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The Miracle

Christ didn't plan to come back as Himself.
He knew that the people would some day reach His level
And the people wanted so much to understand
That they made up a miracle
So we would never forget
And we would know Christ when He came.

Dare To Peek

Just so is a magic saying,
One we cannot really know.
Mystical, it seems well hidden.
What's the way to find "just so?"

Let the thoughts now be unharnessed.
Lightly darting to and fro.
Sights and sounds flow in unbidden.
This is how we find "just so".

Somewhere from way deep inside us,
Seeing is an outer glow.
Suddenly it does become us.
This is how we find just so.

What a magic world of beauty.
Capture rapture mind can't know.
Neither coming toward nor going,
Join the merry chase and maybe here and now and where you sit
Is where you may have found eternal loveliness, and murmurred, "Ah, just so!"

A Thought

It helps our attitude
To change pride into gratitude.
Proud people make apologies beautiful.
Selfish people make giving divine.

A Coy Warning

Size shape or extension non-existent
Elemental, detailed, explained to a T
A point can be also a place of departure
So, please. precious darling, don't point it at me.

Jive Talk

Well, who do you think that I am!
You really think that I can't bam?
Guess I'd better start to cram
And let you know I give a damn.
So I'll just skip the old flim-flam
And really start to shake a gam.
Maybe I'll become a ham
Then we'll all be in a jam,
And have to take it on the lam.
So pardon me, and thank you ma'am,
And let's all thank those boys from Nam,
Who got the shaft when things went "PAM!"
And really took it like a ram.
Please don't play that again now, Sam.
This girl would have to don her tam,
And do a jig--then bop you. Wham!
Turn you into a candied yam,
And send you off with a big shazam.*

*I wrote this in the mid-seventies when a black friend had accused me of not understanding black music rhythm or how awful Viet Nam was. (He was a VNV.) We've been good friends ever since. (P.S. I'm half Irish)

The Crossover Poem

Someone is being a tree.
I think it is Aunt Charlotte
Someday the tree will die.
And Aunt Charlotte will have to be something else.
If you really want to live a long life
Be a Giant Sequoia.
I'll be one, too.
We can watch our seedlings grow
From century to century.*

*I wrote this when I lost my favorite aunt. I identified very closely with her, and her loss was to me my own.

Mary Jane's Woks

How many woks has Mary Jane?
Enough for twelve platters of Lobster Cantonese
Cooked and served in four minutes.


Being unpredictable isn't so bad.
It's just doing what one wants to do,
And getting away with it.


Is it that i say it too fast for him to grasp it,
Or that he grasps it a bit later than I say it?

Pictures and Understanding

When I was young
And thought I could read
I made pictures in my mind
Of the words before my eyes,
And sometimes I still do,
But--sometimes I understand them.

September Morning

Through the mire they walk,
Their boots caked with mud.
Made soldiers by torrential rain
Are old summer blankets
Forgotten on the line

Sitting In Zazen

Here it is!
My cause for new effort.
An itch.



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