Damage Control


November 1, 2019-

Someone put one over on me,

earlier today,

leading to my getting

a mild tongue-lashing.

Anomalous situations

have not been my strong suit.

I reported the matter,

it was handled at a higher level,

and that was the end of it.

The rest of the day was

mostly uneventful,

but my former co-workers

came by with a tea cart,

which one of the students

was manning.

I purchased a cup of tea

and got a hug from the

grateful student,

whom I’ve known for

eight years.

After work, another

critical message came

expressing irritation

that I have chosen

one activity over another,


There is only one of me,


and the people

on the road I’m not


will fare just fine.

I will, as well,

and the one

who took umbrage,

has also been invited

to the event

to which I’m committed.


and damage control,

are so often the order of life.

I Care Not; I Care


October 25, 2019-

The year,  of which I thought as a pinnacle,

when it was approaching,

now seems a plateau of focus,

as it begins to recede,

into the alpine mists of history.

Here and now have become

more urgent.

Past is  a glimmer,

whose lessons impact

the present stage.

Future is “that time”

of promises,

which only I

can bring to fruition.


appears in my

mind’s eye,

like yin and yang.

In the heat of the now,

I care not for the culture

which glorifies drug use.

The mantra,

“This is better than crack!”,

is the cackling of the ignorant.

I care not for the powers

that pretend to be,

sending their tanks,

flame throwers and

armor-piercing bullets,

against unwitting defenders

of freedom.

I care not for the puppet masters,

who order the innocent

to stand down,

to step aside,

that the purveyors

of death,

may present their wares,

to the foolish and

the deluded.

I care not,

for those who

cry foul,

at being told

that an infant

has the right

to life,

the right

to be adopted,

instead of killed.

I care not,

for those who

start wildfires,

in the hopes

of returning later,

and building


gentrified living resorts,

affordable only to

the favoured few.

I care,

for the struggling,

for the lost children,

kept in a prison box,

with no resources,

save the cement floor,

which they share,

with hundreds,

and with their reluctant


who are themselves


I care for those

who are beaten,

chased down,

hunted like animals

and then,

treated like filth,

by the jurists,

who look first

at the well-being

of those

who beat, menace

and hunt the innocent,

like so much prey.

I care for those

who have given

their all,

and end up

as footnotes,

in the journals

of narcissists.

Give us your tired,

poor, innocent,

that we may find room

in our hearts and

in our diminishing spaces.





October 14, 2019, Arcosanti-

The first sentient being to greet me,

this morning, was my friend Pam.

It was a silent greeting,

each  of us stretching,

across the courtyard,

of the sleeping area,

known as the Vaults.

There were about twenty of us,

some, like Pam and me,

in our own singular spaces,

and responsible for

our own warmth.

Others coupled,

keeping each other warm

against the early morning chill.

Each of us dreamed,

many lucidly.

I resolved an old conflict,

wondering why fault had been

continually found with me,

all those years ago.

The answer came,

in my lucid dream,

and I was absolved,

set free,

with a new understanding

of why a beloved soul

had been so quick to judge,

back then.

It is always pain,

that brings this on.

When the pain is gone,

so is the blame.

The second sentient being to greet me

this morning,

was a peregrine falcon,

whom I will call Percival.

He perched on the rail,

outside the central kitchen,

and took in our shared morning world.

I sat and did the same,

for several minutes.

This, we can learn from animals.

The morning ever brings resurgence.

Twelve Cypresses


October 13, 2019, Arcosanti-

The account of last week’s travels has been pre-empted by revelations that came, duirng a meditation session, this afternoon.

Twelve cypress trees grace the outside of the Vaults.

As I lay in meditation,

gazing upward,

towards their midst,

the middle tree was swaying.

Responding to the breeze,

to the intonation

of a meditation master’s

spoken word,

to the positive thoughts

of those in the circle below.

Soon, the trees on either side

of the intrepid conifer

were swaying,

in unison with their peer.

Soon, I was chanting

in unison with the rest of the circle.

We brought the feeling,

the awareness,

to each of our body’s parts.

The trees brought the sense

that a change was taking place.

in the air,

in the sensitivity,

of those gathered

at their feet.

Those who were friendly

last year,

are somewhat less so.

Others have taken their places.

The twelve cypresses

tell those who are listening,

and watching,

that there is power

in proximity,

even while there is strength

in a short distance.

There is power in unified action,

but uniformity

of behaviour

can detract,

from community.

Those who led me to

a positive sense of self

are moving away.

Those  who are with me now,

are the beings

who will be at my side

for a  stage of growth

which I am only beginning

to understand.

The twelve cypresses

make clear,

that the flexible

yet firm

will endure.







September 27, 2019-

Reflecting on the tendency of many, to place blind trust in a celebrity, or other person of renown:

You, so blameless, in the eyes of the like-minded,

cast aspersions on the character of others,

at odds with yourself,

who, themselves are viewed as blameless,

in the eyes of those of similar mindset.

They, in turn, cast aspersions on you,

and the cats chase each others’ tails.

The resulting hole,

hole in the ground,

rabbit hole,

gets deeper,


until none

but those with

the keenest of vision,

can see any glimmer

of light.


you gaslight,


blame cast

and enlist

legions of  legalists,

talking heads

and eager apologists.

You are on the Right,

or on the Left.

It makes no difference

since you see yourself

as above it all.

How far you have,

to fall.



Heaven’s Rain


September 23, 2019-

A Tropical Depression arrived today.

It’s been named Maria.

I know a few women by that name.

None of them are depressing.

This Maria brought some rain to us,

and is hinting at more.

Any rain in an arid environment

is Heaven’s rain.

It is beloved by the living, sentient beings,

by the cacti, succulents and trees,

by the rocks,

and even by the sand,

as it, too, likes a departure

from the sameness

of each day’s scorching Sun.

We, the stewards,

treasure this falling sustenance.

As it happens, I spy the figure

of a mouse,

looking down from its perch

among the clouds,

confident that the gift

of the storm,

on which it rides,

will sate the collective thirst

of us below,

if only for a day,

or three.

The storm knows

that some are inconvenienced,

by the floods it has brought.

It knows, too,

that some of these beings,

may do the same things,

the next time a storm

brings the gift of sustenance.

Not all, but some.

Heaven will send its rain,


The Flow


September 6, 2019-

On any given day, I wake between five and six.

On any given day, I tap into an energy flow,

which tells me what I must do that day.

At any given moment,

there is a task,

which may, or may not,

involve payment.

At any given moment,

there is a sense of urgency,

for what is best done then and there.

With any given person,

there is a special element of his/her presence,

that calls for a certain degree of my presence.

With any given person,

there is a gift that is imparted,

that calls for my own gift, in return.

Tonight, I visited with one whom I regard

as my best friend,

and exchanged the gifts of heartfelt discourse.

This week, I have spent time with

members of my circle of honour,

and likewise have given and received

abundant presents of the Spirit.


The Baby Skunk


September 5, 2019-

Last night, as I was heading to my car port,

a baby skunk got there first.

I don’t know whether baby skunks

have the same lack of control

over their magic weapons

as baby rattlesnakes, so I held back.

The wee one took about six minutes

to check out my carport.

then was chased off,

by one of the feral cats

that live in the back yard.

Cat didn’t smell,

this morning.

So, I guess baby skunks

are not quick to

spray perfume.

Night of the Crescent Moon


August 30, 2019-

I know you are supremely confident

and making this choice,

still I fret and will look,

tomorrow, to make sure

you made it safely home.

You sang your heart out tonight,

and captivated everyone,

just as you surely won the hearts

of those for whom you gave your best,

last night, a thousand miles away,

and will tomorrow,

on the other side of this land.

Some would say I ought not worry,

but it’s my nature,

to want the best

for everyone who has my heart.

Your muses are many

as are your allies.





Speaking of……


August 21, 2019-

An invitation came in the mail.

It was to the wedding of the youngest child

of one of my best friends.

Quickly, and joyfully, I replied,


An invitation came, on my phone messenger.

It was to a college event, on Friday.

I quickly responded,

“Certainly, if I’m not working that day.”

A call came for a Red Cross meeting, today.

I cleared my calendar,

and drove over to the site.

We got a fair amount accomplished.

A caterpillar was inching its way

across the road.

I said. “Good luck to you”.

It kept on its way.

As I sat, watching the sunset,

atop Acker Hill, yesterday evening,

a lone jogger came by and said,

“Isn’t that a great scene?”

I said, “Positively!”

My neighbour said, “I’m moving out!”

I replied, “Sorry to hear that.

Hope it’ll work better at your next place.”

A school sent a request for my presence, tomorrow.

I said, “Amen!”

All this, alone, is reason enough to get out of bed,

and dedicate the day’s praise,

to honouring what lies in store.