Our glasses (hourglasses)

I read in front of them.
I was reading anyway.
They never read.
Even behind my back.

I waited to be sure.
I was never sure
I waited too long.

Liars, thieves, and cheaters
are three of a kind.
I had them all
in hand,
and made a row of bushes
with the tangled vines
for Privacy.

Alone with ourselves
imposes ego as though
we should learn
from mistakes.

The golden rule
is soft, diamonds are forever
handed down
and the rain, perpetually
planting seeds.

The fine print, or return policy
for such a random act
sounds like wind strangled
in narrow channels
but is your paper receipt.

I figured it out
wrong but somehow came to
the correct conclusion
all the same.

There is a kind of
influence, with open palms
that holds no harm
to heat but crystallizes
in salt.

As far as
we can see,
All is in front of us,
there was no plain day
that would be lived this way.



Painting by John Dickson Batten, 'The garden of Adonis' c. 1887 in [Public domain].

Monk-ee-See

The Dalai Lama traveled to talk
at the University, and it was good
to hear it was no celebrity.
He spoke of "dialogue"
let me repeat-
He spoke of "dialogue"

Not many of us wonder
or need to know
our full thoughts

The way we treat
Others
could be better-granted
territories are gone-
None go out of their way or think
of crossing invisible lines

Surprised to see none like me-
not unique-just unanimously rejected
for some thoughts of me
I didn't see
coming or going

Not knowing our position
we listen to Others
who guide us to Do Unto Others
as if we knew the same treatment
worked wonders on Others.

Conversely,
speaking drowns out listening,
when we worry about what we will say
when it is our turn

The Dalai Lama was dripping like a wet sponge
in the high humidity here.
He was not yet acclimated to hear
his humid reception,
and the excessive
precipitation of June gloom.



Painting by Peder Balke (1864) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Cool as a coloquillialism

Art is no job
do what you love
and the rest will lead you astray
To Art is human
Thou Art That
I think
therefore

I project
and put out there
the Golden Rule
and a silver bullet ricochets
silence is gilt

words will never hurt
but sorry makes the hurt
go away, they say

don't look back
at the distance that enchants
your view

where dreams come true
when dreams do become
better than you imagined

save for your future, spend wisely
save your wisdom for a rainy day
spend your future, it expires today
experience is the mother of wisdom
wisdom is the child of possibility

Don't be penny wise and pound foolish
count your chickens at the table
a pound of pennies
are thoughts all the same

and endings must come,
good or bad are just
consolations
for you and me
soon to be
ancient art-
i-facts.




Painting by Giovanni Boldini [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.