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Sticky NotesBits of paper and sticky notesSurround my desk in frantic hopeThat someone will read the memosBefore the painful fatal uh-ohsOf missed appointments, the criesOf deadlines gone by, the whysOf why didn't I see the notesBefore I failed and lost my hope.But then there are the mental notesThese dreams surround unwritten hopeThat someday these prosaic listsWill be replaced by something thisImportant: work that needs no notesThat makes itself the treasured hopeThat is itself the reason whyAnd any ohs are happy cries.Till then the interminable slogNeeds reminders for that day jobOne day I'll toss these sticky notesAll the tasks will be my own.
Beautiful StrandsThe new blanketWas muted orchidBeautiful strandsOf bamboo and cottonThe regularityOf intricate weaveCreated soft orderIn a sharp worldUntil the cat discoveredThe joy of a fresh bedThe smell of clean sheetsThe new blanketUnder the simple strokesOf four paws and many clawsThe soft order becameNicks and pulls and knotsHow often we sacrificeThe beautiful strands of lifeTo the warp and woofOf other ends.
Silence is the FeatureWhat if silence is the featureAnd not the weakness,Silence is the substanceAnd not the absence.What if all other creaturesCombat the bleaknessWith their quiet danceFor strength and endurance.Disquieted brain seeks teacherTo reverse the stressOf years of noisy rantsAnd lost personal essence.I employ silence as my futureTutor for what's less.The novel quiet grantsFirst surprise, then second chance.
Worship the SilenceThere is too much silence, he complains,The universe never speaks. My brainIs so tired of questions it strainsTo answer. There has been so much pain.I ask, Do you want constant chatter,At three degrees Kelvin the matterAround us is a constant clatterThis silence was long ago shattered.No, he says, I want to hear God's voiceOf course the natural world has noiseEnough. I want to know the real choice.His silence has robbed me of all joys.Don't you suppose his voice would shatterYour ears. But what if the real matterIs not the silence but your chatterHe speaks, be silent, stop the clatter.
The Uses of SilenceYou can use silence to hurtNot sure why something as softAnd easy-going as silenceCan slice and chop but it does.You can use silence to healSo very difficult to believeThat doing nothing can heal a boneOr a brain or a heart but it does.You can use silence to destroyNot sure why something as passiveAs silence activatesAll the bad people but it does.You can use silence to uniteSo simple you underestimateThe power of listeningTo make a friend but it does.
Anger Like WeedsAnger is like weedsSo common, isn't it too badWe can't eat them.The fallacy surfaces frequentlyIt tries to convince me with its logic:That anger can win.Win what? The argument,The superiority, the race,The justification, the grace?Anger is the Martin LutherOf emotions, its sola scriptura:Go for the neck, kill him, kill her.The fallacy regurgitatesThe only things it kills:My love, my self, my will.
A Solid Lovely BodyJustice used to haveA solid, lovely bodyShe always covered her eyesVoluntary blindness she feltImproved her impartialityI always told herThat was a liabilityPeople who did not respect herCould sneak upGrab her or worseI said, "J., you've got to careful,Not everyone is as nice as youIt would only take a fewTo overpower you, toppleThe delicate balance."Sometime in the pastJustice had a bodyThen she had a handNow she has only a fingerShe points as vigorously as she can.
SubjectiveI see nowYour enthusiasm about meWas really your enthusiasmAbout yourselfYou were effusive butYou misunderstoodSubject versus objectSimple grammarYou are the subjectI was the indirect objectI was the present progressiveNow I am the past
ProverbBetter to have a bad day making artThan a good day at the officeBetter to have a graham crackerThan a piece of cakeBetter to have a friend who listensThan a lover who never hearsBetter to learn from todayThan relive all those mistakesBetter art, cracker, friend, todayThan office, cake, lover, mistakes