She Uses Hours



to twenty-one

dark to her light

start, mid, and done.


At rest, she dreams

Awake, she’ll mix

motions in eeee-s

a quanta fix.


By the clock she

moves a lifetime

with her words she

rues this life’s rhyme.


Talking ticks her

measured passion

leads her witness

with compassion.



24-hour clock          12-hour clock

00:00                         12:00 midnight (start of the day) maybe sleeping

01:00                         1:00 a.m. certain sleeping

02:00                         2:00 a.m. not remembering

03:00                         3:00 a.m. self-paralyzing

04:00                         4:00 a.m. not nightmaring

05:00                         5:00 a.m. tiny snoring

06:00                         6:00 a.m. up deciding

07:00                         7:00 a.m. happy coffeeing

08:00                         8:00 a.m. dishes washing

09:00                         9:00 a.m. at desking

10:00                         10:00 a.m. oh…working…

11:00                         11:00 a.m. word shepherding

12:00                         12:00 noon (middle of day) errand running

13:00                         1:00 p.m. late lunching

14:00                         2:00 p.m. concept thinking

15:00                         3:00 p.m. telephone calling

16:00                         4:00 p.m. task synthesizing

17:00                         5:00 p.m. walking, walking

18:00                         6:00 p.m. snack fooding

19:00                         7:00 p.m. task worrying

20:00                         8:00 p.m. perhaps laundering

21:00                         9:00 p.m. reading, reading

22:00                         10:00 p.m. journal writing

23:00                         11:00 p.m. sleep programming

24:00                         12:00 midnight (end of the day)




In three-D realm

where holding fast

is the design

to make things last…

…this bold intent

and garbage can

two tools to use

in race to ban.

A carrier

a luggage cart

a calendar

a place to start…

…and place to end

when motions done

the muscles lift

an ounce, a ton.

No More Four Free


Unusual times
have brought us here
to live in love
to lie in fear.

So will you play…
or will you stop
to see the signs
that have no prop?

Watch CNN.
Hear NPR.
Smell an ill wind.
Touch from afar.

Ask hard questions,
paradigm bust.
There’s no playbook
of what to trust.

Bee On A Breeze

As a bee

graces every blossom

with its entity—

giving attention

making attraction

gathering material…

so does my soul

vibrate. Abuzz with

gratitude’s vibrancy.


This is a garden

grown solid

with sound—grown liquid

in temporary



Go, dear bee,

telegraph it

and be a

unit of the verse.

Or, radio.


You’re Invited

The scene is planned

a date on point

then a command:

Will you enjoint?


Who wants to know?

Children query.


Waiting. Weary.


Will you? Won’t you?

Ah, ah, attend?

Stand invited:

at guest and friend!


Play by the rules.

Please sil vous plait.

Or put off and

the date betray.MarMuseum



a walk, an eye

a camera

a thought, a poem

oh grammar, ah!


four elements


for energies

go in, gentle…


air day or night

sea fair or rain

fire holds on tight

earth is a brain


a verse of stars

in water drops


in flight nonstops


NOTE: Last night I had the opportunity to visit open desert. I did so with friends equipped with cameras and intentions to capture light in darkness. Success — undetermined. Near the end of our field trip, we happened on a park, a playground, that was being watered by sprinklers. That is what this photo is — water drops projected from a sprinkler, at midnight, being played with by the flash from an iPhone.


Piece a peace crust

slice-cut the bread.

Drink as you must

what fruit has bled.


Syrup cuisine?

Bee of a sting?

A thermal spring?

Meal unforeseen.


Rooster’s daughter

a fine relate

feathered water

to stock create.


Hunger and thirst

the spirit feels

what soul has nursed

and taste reveals.

lost chicken



In the tech fields
plus in trenches
human faces
create wrenches.

Move him up or
pass her over
suspect downtown
close the folder.

Different us
Multiply splits
Versify words
Universe its.

Programmers all
of lives are we
HTM* code

*Heart-To-Mind (missing the L that stands for Love).

For High Cool Heat

 It’s gunite, shotcrete,

fast powder spark that triggers

solid violence.


Licensed to carry

wrong law and fierce lawd put life

asunder. Begun.


Police poetry:

hands in, up, over, out—gone.

Got you, Negro. Die.


F sound follows Gun.

Fear. Force. Fire. Fail. Face. Fact. Fate.




Photo by Matt Banks. Published on 28 July 2011
Stock photo – Image ID: 10051695

NOTE: I usually do not write about injustice, but the video of a black man being shot by police IN FRONT OF A FOUR YEAR OLD GIRL and her mother was a horror for which I had to find words.