Malign Turbine

This week one of my poems was published by my hometown newspaper. Last Fall wind turbines were installed and are now operational: http://sjrnews.com

Malign Turbine
1 April 2016

For some, turbines mean pollution for the eyes
In an effort to reduce pollution in the skies.

Wind turbines can be seen as towers with spikes
Which endanger flying birds with strikes,

Or they can be viewed in comparison
As graceful spinners turning in unison.

I have memories of the gusty wind blowing
Making it hard to get to where I was going.

The wind became an implacable foe,
Pushing me where it wanted me to go,

Always plucking at my hair and clothes.
Some relief came with sunset furloughs.

The wind still continues in its abuse,
But it’s finally been lassoed into some use.

Those who moan and wail about the view shed,
Won’t get much sympathy from us Monticello bred.

Not Tasking, Basking

Not Tasking, Basking
9 July 2014

Among the abandoned mines,
We look at the summer sky.
Relaxing in the pines,
We watch three hawks circle by.
Sitting on the porch swing
Listening to the birds sing,
Swatting occasional flies,
Not doing a darn thing,
Just swapping true lies.
Together, my friend and I
Watch the evening sunset.
As the time goes by,
Life is good, you bet.

View Adieu

View Adieu
22 December 2012

By a series of jerks and tugs,
The old man awkwardly lugs
His familiar rocking chair
From it's usual spot to where
The best view appears.
Then he takes down the sheers
For an unobstructed sight
Of the winter solstice sunset.
He sits to catch the daylight,
Then he half-stands to reset
The rocker with a final salvo
So the sun is centered in his window.
He didn't always get to enjoy sunsets.
Much of life was earning a livelihood,
One of his best retirement assets
Is having time to enjoy as he should.
Only by glances can he watch the grand show.
On this eve of the longest darkness,
This late in the day, the sun's glow
Hurts his eyes to look at its starkness.
When the sun goes behind a tree.
The light decreases slightly.
Moving at its own stately pace,
The sun slowly slides with grace
Paralleling a palm tree trunk.
When the sun's two-thirds shrunk,
He stands to watch the radiance
Gradually diminish in brilliance.
Finally, the last sunbeams peek
Thru a tree branch's leak.
When the show's over, he tows
His chair back to where it goes.

Actually, he's not like he's made out to be
Because he's really just little ol' me.

A Cause For Pause

A Cause For Pause

25 August 2011

I stopped to watch the sunset

As the sky’s color didn’t stay,

But evolved from yellow, to scarlet

And resolved in a purplish gray.

I was reminded of the saying,

“Stop and smell the roses.”

A full-bodied scent upon inhaling

Stimulates our noses

And excites the whole brain.

I realized anew that many wonders

Are simple and easy to attain.

Perhaps the message thunders,

“Stop!” “In this fortuitous moment

I don’t care what else is going on,

The world is on pause for this scent

Or this sunset that’s glowing on.

For a short time I’ll focus to be

Aware of what’s meaningful to me.”