Peace of the flowing river to you.
Peace of marching vegetables to you.
Peace of red maples in the Fall to you.
Peace of our little town to you.
Lead us from falsehood to truth,
Lead us from despair to hope.
Lead us from fear to trust,
Lead us from hate to love,
May peace fill our hearts,
our town, our world.
beginning with our spoken word.
May peaceful poems be heard,
replacing darkness with light.
beginning with us tonight.
In the best poem ever writ
by me or anyone besides
the first sweet couplet brings
tear drops to sooth dry eyes
awed by the awesome alliteration
folks forward it to Facebook friends
they’ll all agree with little hearts
loving the best poem ever seen
gone viral as an online meme.
The words become an urban myth
the rhymes put greeting cards to shame
preteen girls write it in passed notes
politicians stump with misapplied quotes
to introduce fund-raising URLs
it’s on resisters’ protest signs
bumper stickers and billboard heights
anthologies begin and end with it
rap artists trade their bling for rights.
The best poem cuts through fake news
like an ever-sharp QVC butcher knife
after reading it together, divorcing celebrities unite
reciting it out loud can change an unhappy life
college professors write theses and more
relating it to every poem gone before
it is the best poem ever writ
and I must admit, this isn’t it.
It is folly to name the stars,
recording size, color, coordinates
as watchers do bird sightings in Spring.
See yourself from the birds’ point of view.
Map your location relative to the Big Bang.
May a flock of unnamed spiraling spirits
spin around your inner core,
remove the blinders from your eyes,
turn it all into sweet medicine,
then release you to soar.
Once upon a time there was a kindly old Storyteller
Gentle people, hungry for a great story, amassed
In peaceful times on the soft cool grass under Summer-blue
To hear his story told in the best way he knew.
That story, perhaps with slight variation, always started thus:
“Once upon a time there was a kindly old Storyteller…”
Of course we walk the walk by walking.
This is not ancient wisdom,
recorded by Lao Tzu or enshrined by Confucius.
Happy are those who live life by living
is not one of the Beatitudes.
It’s a linguistic algorithm;
the interplay of noun, verb, and gerund;
Thing, action, and the rubber-road doing.
Profoundly ponder proximity to the central truth
We plant plants by planting.
We carefully care by caring.
We love love by loving.
But there are limits.
Do we poet poems by poeting?
If you give me a chance, I’ll cheer you up.
Lo! between the Pickle and the Cheese
O Daddy, is YOUR bread grateful?
How often have you doubled over, have you?
I’m gonna rock on down to electric; haven’t you?
Lo! I am your father! Look!
To be or not to be when the force is a farce,
I don my bright humor cape.
Can’t you stop stop laughing?
What rhymes with laughing?
Lo! it’s giraffing!
(one drum beat)
Can you dig it, Daddy O?