Desert Pelicans

Once a decade in Australia

a small group pelicans leave their safe harbor

and the lure of fast food from dumb tourists

to fly towards the fiery center of the continent

as if they had never heard of Icarus

They begin before a cloud has even formed

with no guarantee of rain

journeying to a place

that has been parched for nine long years

called by intuition and a deep yearning

As if the flapping of their wings

and the certainty of their faith

could stir the atoms in the air

a thousand miles away

(like the butterflies and their hurricanes)

the first drops begin to fall in the desert

enlivening ancient riverbeds and tributaries

which, contrary to all reason,

begin to flow inland

instead of out to sea

Soon, the transient lake begins to form

and with the magic kiss of rain

the brine shrimp are awakened

from their decade of dormancy

like sea monkeys in the wilderness

They will be food for other types

of Rip Van Winkle marine life

and with perfect timing

the pelicans arrive at the promised land

now teeming with fresh fish

Forget the milk and honey

there's bony bream and saltwater here

and plenty of room to build a nest

to raise a chick and teach it how to soar

how to be wild and free and full

All the while, the pelicans who stayed behind

can't even imagine what they are missing

they are happy to live the life of least resistance

content with wildlife welfare and trash heaps nests

until they have completely forgotten how to fly

Oh that I may always be a daring desert pelican!

Breathing lessons

My yoga instructor

breathes in and out

with the sound of a

rushing Colorado river

when she nods to me

I inhale and exhale

like an elderly man

with a prostate problem

she tells me that I am

holding my breath

that I must let it

flow freely

I try, but it makes me dizzy

and soon I have forgotten

how to breathe entirely

I fear I might drown

with her hand on my stomach

she tells me to breathe

with my diaphragm

not my nose

which makes no sense to me

suddenly I am an alien

with a malfunctioning respirator

and earth's atmosphere

threatens to crush me

could there be anything more

elementary than breathing

it is the first thing we do

when we enter this world

and the last thing we do

when we leave it

and yet here I am

stuck in between

trying so hard

to get it right

as if taking a breath

were like taking a class

and respiring

the newest Olympic event

how do I become a babe again

like before the storms came

and taught me to hold my breath

to survive the unexpected waves

that forced me underwater

tossed me like a stray sock

in a washing machine

I learned to gasp

when I had the chance

quick sharp breaths

for long hard times

and so air has become

a commodity for me

and I am a miser

holding on for dear life

feeling like I am keeping it

when really it is keeping me

the only way to be free

is to be generous

and in letting go, I am inspired

Allergy sufferer's haiku:)

the box of kleenex

is covered in bright flowers

a cruel irony

Timing

The snow melts on contact

all of its icy intention

disintegrating upon impact

I feel sorry for this snow

and its ill-timed birth

just a few short weeks ago

it would've risen

to impressive heights

in all its glittering glory

but today it falls silent

inspiring only annoyance

where it might have inspired awe

what a powerful fate timing is

creating stars from soda jerks

during the lunch hour rush

one day

and sending a waiter

into the black waters of obscurity

because an agent orders delivery

the next

a triumphant crystalline palace

or a soggy patch of mud

all determined by a few degrees

and the direction of a gust of wind

The First

Sir Edmund Hillary

is born anew this day

in the crocuses

that rise against all odds

adventurers blazing a trail

through the snow

while the timid wait

for more hospitable conditions

content with the comfort

of solid ground

but the tiny white buds

push on with the goal of

touching the sky

upward they climb

stretching towards the peak

flags unfurled

and so gain the glory

of the first full bloom

Losing battle

Winter won't go down without a fight

death, it turns out, has quite an ego

like one of those self-important types

who has to have the last word

as if there is ever a last word

what a blow it is to discover

one's impermanence

and so it rages while it can

clawing the sky, spitting with fury

at the troops of buds advancing

with the battle cry of singing birds

desperately it tries to defend its reign

declaring war on the world

and foolishly spending

all of its resources

on a losing battle

too blustery to understand

that death is no match

for Life

Let sleeping gods lie

Oh to sleep how a dog sleeps

all puffing jowls

and limp paws

wholly dedicated

to the most comfortable

position possible

lying on the back

legs stretched long and free

eyes rolled back under closed lids

or sometimes open lids

doesn't matter if the lights are on

doesn't matter if the TV is on

they are deaf and blind

to the whirring world

such dedication is a wonder

how must it feel

to engage in the kind of rest

that is unhindered by guilt and worry

no thought of tomorrow's bills

or the present state of politics

and unemployment rates

rising in the year to come

there is no year to come

there is only this fleece blanket

there is only this moment

and this moment is for sleeping

so here they lie

furry little snoring buddhas

The blessing is with you now

"The blessing is with you now"

was written on the rectangle

of flimsy yellow paper

that the kid handed me

through the window of my car

after I gave him a crisp bill

while waiting at the stoplight

I took it to mean I would sell my project

at the meeting I was on my way to

as if my twenty dollar offering

on a street corner in Beverly Hills

to three black kids with cardboard signs

about their dad being out of work

was enough to buy prosperity

because surely to be blessed

means to be successful

But at the meeting they weren't buying

and in the wake of the ashes of my effort

my mind goes back to that

coupon for a blessing

and I realized I was trying to cash in

that blessing, as if it were redeemable

like a check I could deposit

at a bank during business hours

or maybe I could use it like food stamps

and exchange it for some processed cheese

as if I could turn a verb into a noun

How often have I tried to buy my happiness

not understanding that a blessing

isn't a bottle of spring water

to be grasped and gulped

but the spring itself

The loon

The loon ducks beneath the waves

then bobs back to the surface

reminiscent of an orange ball

on a kid's fishing line

but he hasn't got the advantage

of bologna and cheese on a hook

so he keeps ducking and bobbing

ducking and bobbing

until a rough set rolls in

and he disappears from view

I hold my breath

as if it's a competition

like when we took turns

being timed at the bottom

of Penny's pool

this crazy bird would have beat us all

with his satisfied expression

looking very much like dad's

after he's gotten his money's worth

at the Hometown buffet

and having eaten his fill

the bird turns and swims out to sea

curved and black against the sun

a shadowy Loch Ness monster

in a blurry photograph

Walking meditation

I would like to be the sand

somehow liquid and solid

at the same time

able to absorb the water

and still stay solid

beneath bare feet

soft and movable

with the strength

of ten million rocks

yet never rigid or fixed

inspiring visions

of mermaids and castles

radiating warmth from the sun

reflecting its light

with a wink of magic

I like how it sticks with you

months after you've left the beach

there it is, still in your shoe

reminding you of that day

where the whole world

was at peace

and heaven was within reach

of your outstretched toes

Season of revelation

Prehistoric perfume

bewitches the bees

who are working hard to fly

their pollen pouches

full as saddlebags

weighed down

with powdered gold

while spinach sprouts

from unsown seeds

multiply like magic

and the queen calla lily

unfurls her creamy robe

a royal pronouncement

that the season of revelation

is upon us

The Knee

I keep waiting for a recall

on the knee

with it's accident proneness

and misshapen design

all knobby and clunky

like a crankshaft

on a sleek Aston Martin

it is completely out of place

with the grace of the human form

jutting out asking for trouble

prone to bashes bangs and bruises

painfully attracted to sidewalks

and forever the mortal enemy

of the women's razor

Prisoner of Hollywood

The parking meter makes a face at me

judging me for hiding in a parked car

on a side street in Hollywood

Don't you see

all the pretty young things

in boots and cool jackets

crossing the street to meet friends

they are having fun

why can't you

It chides me while I retreat

feeling weak as rice paper

as everywhere I look magnifies

my puny state

the iron gate around the parking lot

the bouncer under the red light of a club

menacing in his mass

the bright neon sign that reads "WELL"

mocking me with it's inanimate health

the concrete

the buildings

the asphalt

the SUV's

all bragging of their strength

while a helicopter circles overhead

and suddenly I feel the spotlight upon me

the escaped prisoner

but they can not drag me back in

I am free now

free to be weak

in this place where strength rules

I will wear my softness as a shield

Parasite

How did the malaise

get in this time

I double bolted the locks

shut the windows

turned the Welcome mat face down

put a Go Home sign on the door

turned off the porch lights

and yet here it is

didn't even bother to knock

this radon of the soul

seeping in through the walls

unseen unknown unwanted

I keep looking online

for a malaise trapping system

something that hooks up to the sump

to pump the invisible intruder

back out into the cold

but it hasn't been invented yet

so the paralyzing parasite

keeps draining my heat

and sucking my energy

I wish I could burn it off with a match

suffocate it with nail polish remover

twist it counterclockwise

and pull the head out of my heart

Ocean Park Jam Session

The sun weathered trio

plays an impromptu gig

strumming beat-up guitars

and breathing harmonicas

into the salty wind

singing with the abandon

only history together can breed

Old timers in flip flops

with shaggy hair and ripped jeans

today they are twenty two

croaking out some Dylan

'cause chicks dig musicians

especially ones that are freewheelin'

breaking hearts just to mend them

They don't seem to notice

that their audience is a bunch

of pigeons on park benches

and restless toddlers

trying hard to escape

the prison of their prams

and exasperated nannies

It's all about the music

for these dudes

and you can tell by the way

they nod and sway

as they slap their thighs to the beat

that the applause of the palms

is all they need

It's not a cold

A cold is an inadequate moniker

for what happens when your head

feels like a brand new aspirin bottle

stuffed with unnecessary cotton

and everyone around you

sounds like a grown up

in a Peanuts cartoon special

and you yourself sound like

Kermit wearing a Darth Vader mask

if snot were a currency

you would use every last cent

to buy a new nose

you would be poor but happy

because breathing easy is priceless

it's not a cold

it's a bummer

Negligence

The movers say they've got it all

packed in boxes and ready to go

But on my final walkthrough

I'm shocked to discover

that they've left everything behind

The first kiss on the second step

The water stain on the ceiling

that looks like Mick Jagger's lips

The angel trumpet that we replanted

and brought back to life

It's actually blooming now

Then there's that patch of marble

that I was lying on when I learned

about the importance of a good neighbor

And I don't know how they missed

the scratches on the hardwood floor

from umpteen games of fetch

or the steam hearts on the shower glass

I mean how could they possibly overlook

all the Jason Mraz songs in the kitchen

and the sunset view from the balcony

If you ask me, it's blatant negligence

and somebody is going to hear about it