Being Too

“Being Too”

I contemplate our inner souls
and that which lies beyond existence.
I speculate we’ll feel again
that being-giving source by which
our spirits come back through its portals:
each life a new and bright occurrence.



I seem to live between appointments
with doctors of the health profession
who read the omens of my being
and give me counsel I should follow.
And in the case that I resist,
My life expectancy will lessen.



My mother died the year two-thousand
And in my soul I felt quietus
My driving spirit gone astray
It’s been awhile I’ve felt adrift
But now I’m cooking once again
Supported by my inner Venus

Direction Too

“Direction Too”

The physics and the martial arts
I studied hard to find direction.
They satisfied up to those points
at which I ran into hard limits.
And though since then I’ve added new parts
the things to learn will never end.



A spark was lit, a fuse set burning,
a timer set, when we were born—
a kind of telomeric pressure.
Like sailors old in vessels fragile,
we’ve set our course to go a viking
and at the end see what we’ve learned.