Day and night,
Driving home late,
Or rising from the edge of sleep,
Sudden delicate insights
Appear to crystallize,
A fragile architecture
Of words and images surge
in my brain.
Hurriedly,
Visions must be recorded,
Profound communications written down
In a rush of creative energy.
Dice thrown from the corners of the mind,
Spill on the street,
As the urban sprawl traffics rebuke of the
poet’s intent
scattered in black on white
across the page
A jumble of accidents and impotence.
THH
7/26/24
At morning light
One eye opens
A blue-black dog penetrates
With quizzical curiosity,
noses in …
Awake? Yes, yes..
No no…
Unsure if dreams and the cool,
cave of sleep are ready
To flee the night’s rest,
Not sure of doing more than rolling over.
The eye takes in a slow dawning of perspective:
One big friendly face nosing from the foreground,
A dog eyed stare of wonderment,
A sandy beach background and a calm sea floats before the lazy eye to the horizon, numbed to the softening grey, white light
Obscures morning.
A scene for recurring reverie
meets this quiet moment,
brings a gentle smile and
opens the day
before the rigamarole piles in.
At daylight
covers no longer comfort,
Elbow shades eyes from the call of day.
Legs stretch side to side,
Touch the warm edges of materiality,
Feet slide to solid floor
Assure a firm foundation to balance awakening
Step forward in ritual confidence
Time directs appointed events
Patience straddles plans
Tasks engendered by habit align
As the day rolls from routine to meet circumstance.
Break fast with slow intent,
Black tea brews
aroma enchants
Puts off thinking.
Dog pants for bones
Demands attention
Step outside
Greet the summer air wet with dew
Scents offer blessings
Crepe Myrtle dangles bright red, and still,
Black-eyed Susan’s beckon the sun
A new day smiles at possibilities
Soon heat drives all decisions
The sad consequence of human ambition
By afternoon light the day prays for night.
Daylight ends with thanksgiving
Sunsets are toasted with wine and cheese,
Revelry gladdens hearts eager for cool air,
Shirts open to the breeze
Smiles widen as shadows stretch over terrace and lawn
Children swing with glee
Parents nod happily
Celebrating survival of another day’s heat.
Night once a time of trepidation
Now offers relief from poor vision.
THH
7/25/25
The wolf hunts
Not alone
But as brother and sister,
Father and son,
Neighbor with neighbor travel
forests and field seeking a meal.
The wolf feeds its young with prey killed.
All of the pack shares some food to eat
Celebrates the feast howling with relief
The hunter tracks
Follows a trail
Waits for a chance aims, fires and kills
The prowling beast.
His hunt makes a trophy of dead meat.
In the stealth of pursuit or hunt
no difference,
But one we call sport
With a trophy to admire;
One food for life to transpire.
THH
7/24/24
A young man meets a hungry wolf.
He feeds the hungry beast and they bond as friends.
Together they work and play day after day.
One day the man and the wolf wrestle around and the wolf pins him down.
A horseback rider passing by shoots the wolf with his long rifle.
The wolf rolls over dead.
The man in tears of rage
leaps to his feet,
pulls his pistol and shoots the rider dead.
Shocked by loss and full of dread he buries his friend with the hapless rider
Pulls off horse’s saddle and sets him free
Tragedy of just intention; a prevailing symmetry remains.
THH
7/24/24
The rain was a relief from the heat.
It came down like a mother rushing to save her earth bound child.
Now the rain has settled into a persistent drip on my tin roof. The sound reminds of a money changer dropping silver coins one after the other,
Counting the cost of reducing the heat,
For the temperature dropped to comfortable and the humidity bearable and sitting on my little porch I could take in the air.
Unable to walk for two days straight even in early morning without the air sticking in my lungs,
This blessing felt sacramental, even though tomorrow it is certain the heat will return to burn our throats,
For we have reaped the whirlwind.
Storms will lash our homes and the heat will challenge survival, as prayers to idols of air conditioning and the electric grid become loud rites demanding human sacrifice.
Face it! The climate has changed:
Seasons have reversed polarities of human expectations,
Summer tortures,
Autumn hints at relief,
Winter whispers chills and the prospect of snow and icy cold days,
And spring tempts with a short reprieve before
Our world begins to smell like smoke again, and we retreat once more to air conditioning.
THH
6/2524
My ship doesn’t float oceans or sail seas.
My ship takes on no water,
But sinks quickly if bearings are lost,
And I can no longer see the real me.
My ship is buoyed by smiles and with friends often catches the wind,
As I converse with them.
My ship plies frank currents where I’m free to steer according to stars I see,
And when I take the helm, and by dead reckoning avoid the doldrums and heavy squalls,
I try to keep an open heart,
without fear in the strange eddies I navigate,
Especially if a good friend helps trim billowing sails on my uncharted course,
and so prevents keeling over,
Then offers safe harbor for me to weigh anchor and gladly dwell for awhile
until I disembark from the comfort of their loving spark once more.
THH
6/19/24
Today returning from an early morning walk a stick lay in my path,
With a swift unthinking kick I tried to brush it aside,
But it spun in place, moved not at all, and as I kept walking, it seemed to be mocking my lackadaisical style,
Your impulse won’t take you far, effort and stubborn intention move the world,
But if you hope to sway entropy your direction,
you must at least take time to give a damn.
THH
6/6/24
At times my center is pain: a tiny pebble dropped carelessly in a pool
made from on going rain,
Sinking to the grey bottom, concentric circles of the dead and gone float above my head, none wave hello or goodbye.
Suddenly desperate for air, I sit up in the pool made of tears, flaying in anger and fear, I wrap shaking limbs around the hardness of alone, then wonder if Job wants a new friend,
Living alone stokes memories of happy times once shared and of plans that now will never be,
Deserted by lovers and friends I mourn their loss
And grief comes home with me.
THH
6/5/24
I remember times our passion flowed stronger than wine
After the dance standing close in the kitchen I felt this slow blooming need to pull you close
The moment we touched it was ignition
Clothes dropped to the floor,
Kisses with complete submission
Time stopped but not us
We struggled like children full of glee to make to it to the bed and protect our knees
We couldn’t get enough and you completed my surging intention
You gave away everything like Halloween candy
You met me without condition, save a gentle reminder our contract was for ten with options to renew, and we made thirty four
Your disease forced me to care for you like a child as you became docile; I supported your needs without giving into passion
And when after years of loss and much confusion you drifted away I only regret the time we lost to explore each other more
Relief from the meanness of your ugly condition came but I will never forget our joyful passion.
THH
6/5/24
Fired by loss, sadness sears my heart, and makes itself at home in moments of solitude.
Sadness comes like rain, a drizzle at first, then a downpour rushing my brain, blocking avenues of escape, demanding full attention.
Sadness comes unannounced, whispers behind me, as I sigh ‘…oh, you again’.
Sadness darkens my face and sends tears to rule, upsets the routines in place.
Is it the thing wished for, left undone,
Is it the dreams left to simmer in the back of my mind, finally boiling over,
Are my habits and practice exercised with decent intent, wearing thin,
Dreams left too long on the shelf, planned celebrations too long deferred, haunting expectations.
A life chosen to support family, a duty taken seriously, while fate took a heavy toll,
Obligations given priority, believing the future would make needed room,
Not play a thief and steal vigor as I grow grey.
I learn so slowly.
The onion peels layers of time, and tears of regret form droplets,
Even listening to favorite tunes buried under heaps of on going reverie resurrect sadness hidden inside.
Does it hide behind my unending list of things to do? or like rain,
Hang out in unhappy clouds biding time until spilling over to chill a sunny day.
Sadness resides off stage, behind hope filled eyes,
Smiles of a welcoming heart,
Earnest performances intended to promote harmony,
Covering memories of so many supposed to be opportunities,
Wanting to be picked, no longer deniable,
But then the past has claws to hold me in place and each day seems another scene, like the one before and before that,
The routine provides a comfortable home but sadness crouches waiting for its chance,
As disappointment displays wonder in the opposite direction.
For sadness is part of the imperfectible nature of this man.
THH
6/1/24
Thoughts Have Hands 