Truth

I just want to meet someone
who knows the truth.

As Socrates discovered
we know about one thing

but not another, and worse,
we don't know

how ill-informed we are
about so much.

I just want to meet
someone who knows
the truth, and, who,

in a kind and generous moment,
will be willing
to share it with me.

Followers

They search for their leader
looking for wisdom
and/or validation...

the kind that should
come from within
but is sought

from outside. Be
it one god or another
it is all the same

titillating our greed
with everything from
happiness to eternal salvation.

Amy and Clayton

Amy has been my
daughter's friend for 18 years.
Tonight was the celebration

of Amy's wedding to Clayton.
Actually, though,
it was the (local) celebration

of her celebration
in Florida
that took place

a few weeks ago.
It was in a boathouse
in Forest Park

(where they moved more
dirt that they did to
build the Panama Canal),

and they couldn't have
found a better venue
for joining family and friends.

I wonder who decides
such things as
who we marry,

and when we marry,
and where we marry.
We sometimes wonder

if computers will someday
think like humans,
but are we so sure?

Aren't we programmed
to make many of the choices
we believe need such long deliberations?

So we have two happy bright
and attractive 30 year olds (or so)
who got hitched (really hitched)

and now are talking
about having a baby
(I can see it in their eyes).

Life was not a breeze for them,
or for any of us,
for that matter.

But now they have reached a pinnacle,
and their lives are in (good) order,
and they will share it (in love)

with some little ones,
and with their family,
and their extended families

who are all still dancing at this late hour.
Best wishes,
Amy and Clayton!

Tigger

If you are wondering why,
not just any why,
but why this is called

Tigger, or even Tiger,
when she looks like
anything but,

it was copied, oh
very precisely,
from a 17th century

Japanese Tigger
painting, which
is not much of

an excuse for how
off she is, except
that the Japanese

never saw a Tigger,
not in the flesh,
as they say,

but only in the
"Art,"
that is. . . .

A Couple of Screws

After days of preparatory work
on the ceiling
it was time to raise

the drywall
and screw her in.
She was heavier that the drywall

that we had lifted
15 years ago,
or are we just that much weaker?

In any case, we had it in place after
a few tries when we discovered
we had to shave it here and there.

And then, after getting it up
and in place (no mean trick),
I realized that the screws

were on the kitchen table,
so Linda ran down the stairs
to find them,

only to not find them,
thinking logically and incorrectly
they'd be in a box labeled screws.

Sometimes I thought
management was hard,
but it is nothing

compared to manual labor,
where you'd give
your right foot

for another hand,
and then,
just for long enough to get in a couple of screws.

Mandala Sand Painting

In Tibet they'd drop
colored sand grain by grain
year by year

until the image
was completed,
only, when done,

to destroy the mandala
in a single stroke,
to shun attachment

and to emulate
the impermanence
of life.

Dark Side Nightmare

I thought that going
from teacher to dean was
a one way trip to the dark side,

only to discover that
there was a scarier
side going from dean to

the ranks of the unemployed.
Apparently I have a double
from the other side

shadowing me. It all started
yesterday when the local
hardware store called to tell me

that I had left some parts
for my pressure washer
on their counter.

They kept referring to me
as the teacher from the college.
I explained that I had been

to the store,
but not with parts from a
pressure washer,

and not with a little boy,
as they insisted.
They didn't believe me,

though I tried hard to
set them straight. Next I
was at the garage to pick

up my car and a man confronted
me and asked why I was following
him. I asked where he had seen

me and he said at an auto parts
store that I had never visited.
Again, he did not believe me.

The strangest occurrence was
how yesterday and today
I could see all the pasty white old

people who swarmed the streets
and stores in the middle of
the day like in the TV serial

"Dead like Me" where only the
dead can see the dead. Yikes,
is this happening to me?

Saying Goodbye Nightmare

Leaving is a painful thing.
As I get farther away,
there is no longer a door–

a way to go back.
I reach out
to touch the place

where I was
and though my hand
is right on it,

I can't feel anything.
I go back to visit
and nobody knows me,

for those
I knew
have left as well.

Without an Hollywood ending,
I wake up in a cold sweat
and realize that,

indeed,
I have left
and now will need

to be where I am
rather than
remember where I was.

The Kid

His wife told him to make a
picture of the grandkid,
The other woman

pronounced she
likes his poems
better than his drawings.

She was surprised to hear
that he had taught art
for thirty-five years.

Hilary Clinton,
bless her heart,
wants free health care

for everyone,
and the dogs bark,
asking to go out.

The fireworks
lit up the sky
a few hours ago,

ending in a rumble
that must be a minuscule version
of the war in Iraq.

My first day in my new life
was unfortunately and gladly laden
with the same numerous

and similarly convoluted
issues, memories,
and challenges.

Many Roads

After 58 years in
school in various capacities,
I now face multiple possibilites,

all entrenched with considerations
and expectations.
I wonder if we do make choices

or if we are simply led my our
spirit guide who so lovingly
lets us believe we make

conscious choices about
such important dilemmas.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure.

Our ability to
change the course of history
is more limited than we would like to believe.

Crud and hugs

Crud. Freud said
that we leave something behind
because we want to go back.

Well, today was my last day.
Or so I thought. I'd emptied
everything out,

and then sat down at home
in the easy chair,
and put my feet up,

and crud,
I remembered
I had forgotten to empty one drawer

of some personal stuff.
Will have to go back
tomorrow. Double crud.

But the nice thing about leaving
is that everyone says goodbye,
and everyone hugs you,

not just with those
partial hugs where you
hardly connect, but real

bear hugs, where you
wonder if they'll
ever let go

and even a woman who usually wears
a pretty official exterior
was so nice as to smile

and then to throw a couple
of kisses.
What a day!

Social Occasions

As I move from one world
to another,
I notice

that I'm going to
have to interact more
with strangers

than I did in my
old world.
It feels awkward

to meet new
people who do something
different with their lives

and whom I don't know you.
So I grasp at straws
trying to find something

in common.
Very strange, indeed.
Almost like the dating game!

Baseball Card

When I was a kid, I bought
a box of baseball cards.
There must have been

a hundred packages of cards,
or so it seemed,
at the time.

I separated the bubble gum
from the cards,
and put the whole box

on a metal shelf in
our warm
summer kitchen.

All the bubble gum
melted together
and I learned

another life lesson,
as I do
every day of my life.

Back then,
we all dreamt
of being on a card

of our own.
Little did we know
that it was as simple

as having
a little imagination
and a lot of inspiration.

Obnoxious

There is something obnoxious
when you use all the crayons
in the box.

Maybe it is crass
to show off so much
wealth,

or perhaps
it is the
lack of restraint.

Is sophistication
about painting an all black
canvas? Do our

eyes (or brain)
shun sensory
overload

and blaring
loud
music?

Two Questions

Why is it
that you can be so close
to having things

the way you want them,
and then you knock over
a ceramic artifact

and it shatters,
or you cut your hand
with a rough fingernail,

or you get intangled
with the mess-ups
of banks and insurance

companies? Or all three?
Where does the
happiness go when

she is so deftly
replaced with one
screw-up after another?

Concentricity

When I was seventeen
I started painting concentric bands,
hoping always to let

every color and thought show
through, both because
they had "currency" (to me)

since they were once part
of the picture,
and also because

I never wanted to
throw anything away

(especially a color).
Now,
forty-four years later,

I return,
using a
different media,

but the same concept.
The picture becomes more
decorative as well,

giving (me) a feeling of a
Persian miniature
or rug.

My Friend and the Naked Nymph

When my friend went to the
rest room at the Thai restaurant,
I decided to start today's drawing.

Not knowing what to draw,
a bottle of red pepper sauce
caught my eye.

Then
"in my wildest dreams"
a naked nymph

came to the table
to test the sauce
with her finger.

Satisfied,
she quickly departed,
and my friend returned.

It is Sad

Yes, it is sad
that it is hard
to change things.

Sometimes we are out
in a desert and our
axle binds up and

we can't move and
there is no help
available, and

we know that
with just a little
shift all would be well,

but it isn't happening,
so we stand there,
helpless and alone

with our arms up in the air
waiting for a wisp
of fresh air.

What is this?

The Buddhist wondered
"what is this" for ninety days,
and then discovered that

time goes very fast,
and suffering is
just a point of view.

Relieved not to be a Mouse

We all had nicknames
in grade school.
I suppose it was

a rite of passage.
I'm not sure
I remember

anyone else's,
but mine
was certainly

etched in everyone's
vocabulary,
as well as in mine.

"Mouse"
they called me, partly
because my ears stuck

straight out,
and partly
because I was so short,

and then partly
because it kind of
alliterated,

if that's a word, with
my last name,
"Mosley."

The Little Prince

He stood on the
foreign world
for a long time.

It was a place
that was not his,
and one day,

when he went to leave,
he discovered
that he had merged

with that strange planet,
casting doubts
on any hope

that he
could now leave
in one piece

to go off
to his peaceful
kingdom.

Popcorn

Many evenings
the wife and I
watch television and eat popcorn.

It sounds a little decadent,
like we are couch potatoes,
but to the contrary,

we neither watch TV
nor eat popcorn.
She works on jewelry

and I make a drawing.
Sometimes one of us
makes popcorn, but

that is mainly for
the dogs, who consider
it quite a treat

from their monotone color
and taste
daily meal.

The TV is on, but
neither of us can
afford to watch it

because she might
drop a stitch (she
weaves copper wire)

and I might screw
up my drawing.
Here,

Zoe is waiting to
see if this is going
to be a popcorn night.

She had a long day
chasing rabbits,
and would rather

be off snoring in a
dark corner of the
dining room if

the popcorn
is not going to
make an appearance.

Symbiotic Relationship

Crossing a street
many years ago
I told my son

to look both ways
before he crossed.
"What," he said,

"should I do
if a car
is coming?"

Now I have
a better idea,
some would call it

a two headed person,
but I'm happy calling it
a symbiotic joining,

so each is looking
out for the other
to preserve the whole.

Now we are looking for that
specialty clothes store
so we can come out of the closet.

Dr. Stout and Dr. Pavlov

Today we went to
the vet,
the dog and I.

It used to be once
a year,
but now that she's older,

it is twice
a year unless
we have some issue,

which deserves
a special visit.
My dog started sniffing

every inch of the office,
and then started
profusely salivating,

as if Dr. Pavlov
had suddenly rung a bell,
and the food would soon

be coming.
Then Dr. Stout
came into the examination

room,
and listened to
her heart,

and then gave her
an array of shots,
at which point

he commented
on the salivation,
which he said to watch

when we got home.
Later that evening
I made some popcorn,

and,
low and behold,
the salivation reappeared.

Pavlov lives,
may he
R.I.P.

Science and God

Some say that science
is the answer,
that it tells us

where things came from,
why things work,
and when they will

change into something else.
Others say God is the
supreme being.

Still others are not
so sure, and remember
that science gave us

the atomic bomb,
while God gave us
a world with one

disaster after another.
God tests, some say, and
other insist that he

works in mysterious ways.
Art, for me, grasps
the wonders of the universe

in a much more
comprehensive manner,
understanding that the

whole is a more holistic
and beautiful
methodology.

Postmodernism at the Eye Doctor

We were both waiting
for the eye doctor,
she reading a book,

and me
drawing a picture
of her

reading a book.
She seemed to be reading
a book that she never

wanted to be over,
like some people
live their lives.

I watched her
out of the corner
of my eye

read the last
page over
and over,

as if she could
prolong
or

change the
ending
the next time around.

Who'd like to Step on two Faces?

I thought I'd make
a carpet, so I took
two lovers

and put them
smack bang
in the middle

of a pattern.
When I showed it
to my friend

she said,
"who'd like to step
on two faces."

Honesty sucks
at ll:30 pm.
Wouldn't it be nicer

to have someone
just give compliments,
or would it?

Wise Dog

I'm not sure why
they say
that the dog

is man's best friend,
or visa versa.
Is it because

men don't
have any other friends,
or is it

just that they're
so darn smart?
I envy my dogs

sleeping
all day, and also
how their ambition

is limited to chasing
rabbits
around the yard.

What would
I have to do to be
reincarnated into a dog?

Perhaps something really dumb
like selling Mary Kay
door-to-door for twenty years.

Confusion

We rush around,
looking for peace
here

and peace there,
yet sometimes
peace is (about)

being still,
looking at us,
as we look

into a mirror
at ourselves
looking back at us,

ad infinitum
laughing and crying
at the same time,

for a brief moment,
when
hit by a speeding car,

or a high temperature illness,
we, seemingly
for an instant,

recognize
that for once
we have touched

a slower and deeper
consciousness
of our universe.

Dad

After a complete life,
he happily laid his head
on a pillow,

listening to the waves
from the ocean,
and yearning

to meet his
soul mate
in the next universe.

Cleaning for the Party

When you haven't
given a party for awhile
you forget to clean your house.

Mess that you can easily live with
you wouldn't want
anyone else to see.

Afterwards it doesn't
look as bad
than before the party began.

Yes, things are in disarray,
but underneath, you believe
there is a thin layer of order.

Little House

Sometimes we get
a little house,
where you don't get tired

moving from the front door
to the back door.
Hell, you don't even

have a chance to pick
up speed as you get
up from your couch

to go to the kitchen
to get a snack.
Your TV remote works

anywhere in the house.
Cleaning is easy,
because you just

have to wipe off
one table and turn
on the vacuum for

a small nanosecond.
You better hope that
you like your visitors

because you won't
have much opp.
to hide from them.

You shouldn't have
much trouble finding
your lost possessions,

for you'll just
have to stand
on a toe

like a ballerina
and spin
around once.

Rows

Rows,
rows,
everywhere.

Grocery, Walmart, and
Excel
spread sheets.

Farmers plant in rows
and killers wait on
death row.

Some
even build houses
in rows, so

our cars have streets
to get
from place to place.

When we have
too many rows,
a tornado or

earthquake comes
and returns Earth to
its natural order.

Line in the Sand

We draw a line
in the sand
when we won't go

any further toward
acknowledging someone else's
perspective or needs.

We say we've reached our limit,
but really
we mean that preserving

our stuff is
more important
than is connecting with another.

On the other hand,
the wisest is the sand herself,
who sleepishly lays down

all day long,
and connects all
the grains on

one side of the
line
with the other.

Too Tired

Eighteen minutes until midnight
and too tired to write a
poem tonight.

I won't tell about having
my teeth cleaned today,
or about the Thai salad

for lunch that had much too
much garlic, or the shoe
store that wanted $20

to shine my shoes, or
$3.50 for a pair of
shoe laces,

or even the crazy people
at work who did this
or that,

not to mention the wonderful
celebration tonight
and gifts of glass

and a neat book
about how everything
works. No, I'll

leave all that for
another day, when
there is more time

to hone and nurture
or nurture and hone
all these words into

clever
thoughtless
flowers.

Big Man, Little Man

We come
in different sizes,
and different shapes.

Some of us are (relative) giants,
and others midgets,
or drawfs.

The little ones
lead lives of quiet
intimidation,

while the big ones
believe they rule
the Earth.

I understand that
in China they get
painful operations

to add a few inches
here and there.
Does the pain

of being short
surpass the pain
of such an alteration?

Wipe your feet, please!

Sometimes they want to walk all over you,
not for any
special malice,

but because they
either don't know
where their boundaries are,

or what is the difference
between a face
and the ground.

Hopefully, in time,
they will become wise,
or at least you,

on the ground,
will get up and
stop being a carpet

for those sorrowful ones,
needing an available spot
to wipe their feet.

Liquid

We are land creatures,
but envious of
birds and fish,

who move through their
domains effortlessly,
(or so it seems).

We rarely return
to that primordial state
when, in our mother's womb,

we floated in the
amniotic liquid
like there was no tomorrow.

Yet, in these moments of fear
and passion we can no
longer look at our

ourselves but rather
become immeshed in the
event itself,

only, upon recovery,
to be reminded
that we are mortal and conscious.

Light at the End

As I get closer
to the end
of the tunnel,

I'm blinded
by a bright light,
as intense

as the full moon
against the darkest
of clouds.

I wonder
if the new
landscape

will be as
rich as the last,
and question if

my new life
will approach
(in any ways)

the beauty
of what
I have left behind.

A Challenge

He told me that
he liked my profiles
better than my frontals,

to which I replied,
guess I'll have to
do more frontals.

Then he wanted to see
if I could do a dog
"face-on."

I described that
I'd do the nose with
concentric circles

and he said
it wouldn't
work.

"Maybe, someday,
I'd give it a try,"
I thought.

My son believed
that he got stronger
carrying a heavy bat.

We push ourselves,
even when "good enough"
is ok, just because...

Buyer's Remorse

Should I or shouldn't I?
it is all so simple
in the midst of passion.

Then, later, I turn it
over in my head,
over and over again,

wondering if I
should have paid less,
or picked a different

specimen, with
rationalizations
battling with realizations

until finally something
else comes along
to occupy my cluttered mind.

Numbers

The exasperation of numbers,
showing one side,
and a moment later, another.

There are always multiple
convenient
truths

depending on one's persuasion.
Years ago I read,
How to Lie with Statistics,

yet, I'm still often persuaded
by one strong argument

while another sits
so quietly
on the sidelines,

waiting to come out
just at the right time
to embarrass and harass.

Home Again

"So, are you going
to travel when
you retire?" they ask.

I feel like a lump
when I tell them
how much I like it at home.

I keep trying
to travel,
and keep appreciating

more and more
just being home,
and traveling

in my mind,
and not,
in my body.

Interest

It is hard to know
how interest rates,
and interest of the more curious sort

are related.
The curious interest
lets us know

that we are still alive,
while the other interest,
as in rates,

let's one person help another.
One could say
that both the

money lender
and lendee gain
from the transaction,

though the lendee
appears to be in debt
for most

of their life,
while the lender
goes home each day

with a wallet
that grows a bigger
and bigger pot belly.

Yikes!

Making a big decision
is always
scary,

though
I've done
a number of them.

I feel like I'm on
a high diving board,
and at the point

of no return where
my feet have left the board
and my weight is over the water,

and then I think,
oh, my god,
do I really want to do this?

Invisible Man

The man who wasn't there
posed for me
when noone else would

(because they weren't around).
He didn't like to stay still,
and finally he vanished altogether.

House Hunting

She read about one
on Speedway,
and decided

that was the
one for her,
but upon seeing it

in the flesh,
found that her heart
was elsewhere.

Still more days
to play the field,
we'll see where her

heart ends up...
though
I doubt

Speedway
is still
in the running.

Little Man, Big Man

When I was little,
I couldn't wait
until I was big,

yet I didn't
really believe it
would ever happen.

The wait seemed endless,
only to find out that
bigness wasn't especially

an age thing,
but rather
a state of mind.

If only
I had known,
I could have

flipped a switch,
and towered
over them all.

Color Again

Color again,
the sun shines,
the light at the end

of the tunnel,
he said.
The end is near,

so he reached
upward,
warming his

hands with the sun,
and wondering
what kind of

permanent damage
the rays will make
on his happy face.

Son (sic) Unworshiper

He was blinded
by the son (sic?),
so much so

that he could not
see light
from darkness.

Each day he
would hide
from him,

only to forget
by morning
his daily rebirth.

He needed him to
see his reflection
in the stream,

yet who was he
without him,
except

one
who struggled in
darkness.