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Poems and Thoughts by Frank Maurer

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Psychology

Aggression and Love opus 24

Love of country.
    Love of Another.
        Love of property.
            Love of possessions.
                Love of a food.
                Love of a pet.
            Love of a sports team.
        Love of a political party.
    Love of a religion.
Love of freedom.

Love of all these things gives one meaning
And a sense of belonging.
But when events are challenged and go awry,
Everything of Love might bring out
The strong human feelings of conflict and then aggression--
Another human emotion which often
Wells up in resulting human behavior:
We mirror the schizophrenic ups and downs of chimpanzees
When we might have evolutionarily followed the peaceful,
Loving interactions of the Bonobos, the Lesser Chimp!

Will we always be destined for an aggressive existence,
Or follow the better supplications for a loving reality?

Ode to my Dentist opus 29

Her soft, warm fingers enter my mouth
And move gently in my orifice.
Warm, in spite of the lovely yellow-green surgical gloves.
She utters soft commands to "Turn towards me"
And "Does that hurt?" And "Now place your partial back in".
And "Does that feel good" and "Is that comfortable?"

Then the partials are finally transferred from her to me.
And I place them on my 'mandible'
And both fit so perfectly, which gives me joy!
When done, she says "I will meet you in the lobby",
But she always arrives and then leaves too soon,
And I am left alone; but with sweet remembrances!

Clothes opus 35

How interesting to think that the human animal
Can change its demeanor by donning different bits of cloth.
To go from one mood to another,
Just by zipping up another style or color.

Of course one knows of the octopus as a change artist
And the chameleon fading from brown to green.
But with greater external effort, humans have mimicked
Fellow creatures to blend in or stand out,
By using cotton or denim; attracting the other
Or, in a uniform, to raise feelings of fear or admiration.

Entomophagy I opus 38

Do you know that, strangely now,
Early Atlantic slaves were fed on the then, undesirable lobster?
Today, with ever-reduced grazing areas on the planet
And fisheries that are pressed with over exploitation,
Humans are now contemplating returning to
A once ancestral desired cuisine of termites and their kin
Which at present are, by many, considered as absolutely horrible.

Bizarre how food choice is determined by
Fashion or need or revulsion;
What's different between a shelled sea creature
And terrestrial beings with an exoskeleton?

Anonymous opus 41

"The difference between an ordinary experience and an exceptional one
is in the details noticed along the way."

USA! opus 43

This is a country which is butchering (harvesting?) its young.
USA!   USA!   USA!
This is a country which is held hostage by the gun industry.
USA!   USA!   USA!
This is a country which may never be able to make the humane choice.
USA!   USA!   USA!
This is a country which, if the guns don't destroy it,
The thoughtless inability to stop the creeping CO2
and methane and flooding will.

USA!    Usa?    usa??

Have a thoughtful Thanksgiving.

Dialects opus 47

Are we really so different--creature and human?
We laugh at or admire the Scottish dialect.
We diminish or romanticize the Southern dialect.
We swoon or feel inferior to the English dialect.

How do we react to the dialects uttering the danger calls of Prairie Dogs?
How do we evaluate the evening chorus of the Red-winged Black birds--
Vocalizing with differing dialects among flocks habitating the East or the West?

Differing dialects; differing tones; different speed of utterance;
Our Reptilian Brain crys: "Us and them".
Even our vocalizations delimit us
Just like "those creatures"!

Lifespan opus 51

There are those who say we must stay longer.
Ah, the secret desired to maintain for each of us a longer sojourn on our planet.
Are there implications for such desires?

There are, of course, vital elements held in each living body
Which in a 'normal' system are regularly recycled to the next generation.
If we increase the length of life for us
And for our dogs and cats and horses,
Will we be depriving the following generations
Of certain life vitals which yield good health and well being?
Consider this as well as the would-be increasing number,
Hoarding space and elements for our own pleasure.

Perhaps we should be considering more deeply the life we have now
And not desperately vying for yet more time.

Foiled opus 59

The unopened roll of aluminum foil lies on the floor--
Was a reminder to have festively wrapped the frozen blocks of meat--
Butchered from a favorite, but old, Swiss Highland steer--
The packages--freezer preserved--in cold stillness in the barn.

Unopened foil, because, out of sadness,
I could not muster the fortitude to rouse myself
And travel to the San Francisco Christmas get-together.

Too many memories.
Too many disappointments.
Too much pain.

The noise of the revelry would have devastated me.

Recyling opus 107

Turned into the yard
With my load of recycling materials.
Metal scraps here, bins there--
Ordered chaos all around.
Retrieved a dolly and receiving barrels.
Dumping now mostly plastic bottles,
Along with their myriad of caps,
Carefully segregated--each in its own barrel.
(The CRV, California return value, specially separate!)
Barrels full, up to the weight master,
Contents, each dumped together, by category.

Oh, a cap fell out on the floor!
"Please retrieve that back into my load."
The Weight Master laughed.
"That is only one cap--no weight!"
"Ah", I said, "but with the other hundred,
A measurable amount of weight does accrue!"
On that note the Weight Master
Not only retrieved my single cap,
But grabbed several other orphan caps,
Scattered and remaining on the floor,
And threw them smilingly into my load!

Moral: One vote really does count.
One aborted, polluting, but unnecessary trip does count.
One purchase of an energy efficient device does count.
One meal with no leftovers thrown away does count.
One cup of water not squandered does count.
One family with a planned size does count.

Yes, even one bottle cap, together with others,
Does count.

A Thought opus 202

Arrogance leads to ignorance which manifests
Misunderstandings, mistakes, and ultimately revolt.
This pertains to individual interaction
As well as between nations.

A Thought from the Dalai Lama opus 203

"Do not confuse happiness with cessation of pain."

Just Wondering opus 209

I have always wondered
Why the Latin Roman Mass
Commences with Kyrie Elyison,
Followed by Kriste Elyison--
Both introductory phrases are in Greek!
    Benedictus.  Ahmen.

I have also wondered why our moon
Seems to never rotate,
Always facing the earth.
On this one I finally learned
That the actual rotation of the moon
Is timed to be in sync
With its orbit in the monthly/yearly
Rotation around our earth!

Realizing the horrible waste and destruction
Which war results from human conflict,
Why have humans generally never learned
From wars' actual consequences throughout history?
Think of the many countries once in conflict,
Which, when all was finalized,
Became allies and staunch trading partners!--
A strange, meaningless enigma.

Lastly, in so many social situations,
Where tasty food, social communication,
And live, musical entertainment commingle,
One of these three often unfairly dominates.
I performed jazz in social situations decades previously--
Always attempting to comfortably 'fit in'.
These days, when I rarely attend such social events,
I am mostly overwhelmed by the horrid volume of music.
It appears that musicians care less about a 'good' performance,
But rather value volume as the means to gain praise and attention.
Of course the result is that the masticating, imbibing conversationalists
Can barely hear each other because of the selfish volume producers,
Oblivious in their own self centeredness.
I compare this present sound pollution,
Literally causing (future) hearing problems of all sorts,
Including tinnitus and, in extreme cases, deafness--
Much as smokers selfishly created in years past,
Resulting in asthma, lung cancer, or even death.

My Text Encouragement to One, Fearful of Caves opus 221

Hello. No need to enter the cave:
Sit, contemplate, and revel
In the beauty of its entrance--
Then learn of its geologic formation,
For an intro-spection!  F.

What is Beauty? opus 239

Humans have wondered for centuries as to what beauty truly is.
Why is it that often after a stroke or brain damage,
That artistic ability often manifests itself or that existing abilities improve?
What goes with our brains and aesthetics--it is not sex nor food!
It is clear humans make aesthetic judgements of faces;
Perhaps described as charming, stunning, or gorgeous.
Even infants (at six months!) gaze longer at an attractive face.

Innately, our brain seems to be evolutionarily organized.
There may be an adaptation for better survival;
Symmetry may be interpreted for better infant health and survival,
An epiphenomenon which depicts a longer, better life.
Faces and natural landscapes elicit these choices--types,
As opposed to architecture and then human art,
Which yield less response.

Now contemplate games--soccer is rated as 'a beautiful game'--
The choreography and elegance of players' movements.
Also consider the beauty of science--E=mc2, mathematics or chess.
An infant's face lights up, having just understood some manipulation.
The satisfaction of knowing beauty can adaptively accomplish usefulness.
There is a satisfaction of taking something apart and then, back together.
What a wonder to contemplate why protons in a nucleus
Remain together and do not repel one another
And to then discover the function of quarks and gluons which help do such:
This results in weak forces when close together
And strong forces when further apart.

Even efficiency is a beautiful thing!
Biological reproduction yields mutated variability,
All of which is selected for survival.
Beauty is not only functional, but useful--
Consider a bee's hexagonal wax cell.
Why can most incomprehensible things in the world,
Be at the same time comprehensible?

But why?
To paraphrase Keats--'Beauty is Truth and Truth is Beauty. That is all'.

Grief Unveiled opus 242

I have experienced grief several times during my 82 years--
A brother John, was only 20, a victim of a hunting shooting,
Where the unknown shooter shot in the air with no backing;
A father, his age at only 57, worn out from childhood rheumatic fever,
Which manifested its final blow from a weakened heart,
After testing high altitude breathing equipment during WW II;
A wife, Maggi, driving exam results from the University
To me in the field for proofreading and correction,
When her topheavy Land Rover overturned on a washboard dirt road--
The collision gently broke her neck, leaving no bodily mark;
A dearly beloved grandson, died in a terribly horrible car crash,
The horror shared with two companion boy friends, also dead;
A wife of 31 years, who died with a body riddled with cancer--
A great loss for me and her surrounding world.

I have never cried or became angry,
But rather have created a hand created marker,
Or created an endowment for students in our names together,
Or written narratives extolling their contributions to us all.
This type of grief behavior has been labelled as instrumental grief.
Intuitive grief is shown through emotion,
Such as crying, anger or outright emotional behavior.
I have, until I learned about these differences,
Thought I had not properly grieved.
It is a relief to now understand that I am not 'cold hearted',
And that many other fellow Homo sapiens, similarly grieve.

Procrastination opus 247

Procrastination might be said
To result from laziness.
But the hesitation to take action
May bring about a pause
So that thoughts accumulate
And yield a more positive result.
To simply abandon something completely
Could be finally credited to good sense
Or perhaps just to cowardice.

A New Perspective on Santa opus 252

This is a saga told to me by my son, Pierre.
Rowan, my grandson, was being initiated
Into the stories of Santa Claus and
From where some presents come.
After a few tales of initiation, Rowan became emotional--
Non-cooperative, crying, and with belligerent behavior.
Both parents were clueless as to why.

After a time, it was slowly revealed
That the concept of Santa coming down the chimney
Created a disturbing thought of a stranger-intruder.
This might be because of all the news
Of violence surrounding us?
This imagined intrusion outscored
The thought of incoming presents!

The Olfactory Mammal opus 256

Crickets to purchase in the pet store.
Wandered by the fish--and then the Betta display.
She had her back to me--she was tall.
I said, "You can train those, you know."
She turned; morphologically lovely.
We chatted about her school, her past,
Her time in our town; I added just a bit.

Not sure if I said something or she,
But there was a blush to her face.
Her prominent nose reminding me
Of my first Armenian High School love.
Then my nostrils were filled with her
Sweet female scent.
A shot went through me and I, the biologist,
Knew I was truly an olfactory mammal;
As she walked away,
Leaving her lingering pheromone.
Indeed, my whole phylogeny
Raced throughout my ontogeny.

6 January 2024 opus 258

Today, the 6th of January is three years from the time,
When we all watched in real time, the invasion of our Capitol.
Today, in spite of the actual empirical evidence,
There are many, potentially destroying our democracy,
By actually denying that such a disruption ever occurred--
"It was only a group of enthusiastic tourists visiting their Capitol ."
Are we on the verge of a crumbling and destroyed democracy,
Where lies become the final truth?
Are we actually in this adumbration of a terrible future?

Lies are always, historically, uncovered and found out.

Is Humanism a Solution? opus 277

Humanism is a thrust towards 'truth' for all humanity,
As is Feminism a similar thrust towards
Treating all human sexes equally.
The dogma that 'we' are the perfect truth,
Or that 'we' must exist because
There are so many adherents, for so long,
'When examined carefully, do not reach
The aspirations of most thinking people.
Humanism is an approach to life for those who wish
To live with intellectual integrity, based on reason,
Evidence, and a desire to do and be good,
Not interfering with people's rights
To their own beliefs and freedom of expression.' *
This is as long as groups are treated with tolerance,
Using no violence on either side.
There is no deity that lies in wait to chastise or punish us.
It is only we who would then chastise ourselves when appropriate.
Humanism also includes absolute caring and consideration for all other life--
To coexist and understand other creatures' actual evolutionary function,
And not simply conclude, without thoughtful consideration,
That some might be undesirable pests,
Thus caring for ALL life to thrive together on our originally very balanced planet.

* The God Argument, A,C, Grayling.

Where does Prejudice End? opus 288

I have held this in for many decades.

I was raised a progressive Protestant
(I am now, as you may have read, a Humanist),
In Newton Massachusetts as a Congregationalist,
A church resulting from the competition with the Prebyterians
Where the 'Congregation' regulates and governs itself.
I rang the huge church bell for services (now automated!);
I led the young people's group to reach out to others--
We shared meetings with both Catholics and Jews.
(I now realize that Muslims were not at all present then in my life.)
I was a tolerant, open-minded young person.

I played music (see previous poems) in school orchestras
And met many other young musicians.
I was in a jazz band led by a Catholic trumpet player.
Because of his 'loudness' (like Mozart who detested the trumpet),
I moved to another trio with a Jewish leader.
When the trumpet player asked, "Why did you go to 'that group'?",
I answered, "Because they are better musicians."
I was open and accepting of people who came into my life.

In High School, I became good friends
With Eddy Fineberg, a French Horn player.
I had a 'tour' with him through his kitchen,
Where he explained that if I ever came to dinner,
(to which, I was never invited),
I could not eat off his 'Kosher cutlery'.
Later, when I was talking with his intellectual sister,
His mother cleared everyone out and began to admonish me
That I was not to interact with her daughter again,
Because my 'people' (ancestors) had ravaged Jerusalem
And contributed to the Jewish downfall--
I was personally thunderstruck and devastated.
On the one hand, I understand just what was going on,
But on the other, as a young person, it was difficult
To bear the pain and the feeling of near betrayal.

Fifty years later while chatting at a High School reunion,
Another fellow student said he had gone through the same situation.

I have lived knowing an Armenian High School girlfriend,
The people of whom had suffered in their own genocide.
My first playmate was a black first grader, in an all-white school--
His name I even remember--Billy Meritt.
I have lived with Blacks where I taught in Southern Africa.
I have taught with the last of the Constantinople Greeks in Turkey.
I have worked in the Civil Rights Movement.
I have also realized that ALL groups have their prejudices.
In that light I try always to remain open.
I have realized too, that some groups
Get more 'publicity' than so many others.

We should all feel the guilt for our subconscious dislikes
And realize that every group, with very few exceptions,
No matter what seems evident,
Has just as many prejudices as any other.
I believe this is why our beautiful blue planet
Is so very divided (with its human populations) amongst itself.

Nikki: A Benevolent One or a Potential Dictatress? opus 296

Nikki Haley is wondrously standing up to Trump,
Even though she forwarns, as he,
Of repressive potential laws to curb women's freedoms, etc.
It is said she met her potential husband, William Michael Haley,
Declared he did not look like a Bill (nickname for William),
And to this day, he was then, and is now, (her name),
Michael!
Should we admire a woman who 'officially' renames her husband,
Or should we fear that she, if coming into power,
Would also be a dictatress 'for a day'?

Are White Camembert and Brie Doomed to Extinction? opus 305

The power and strength and endurance of life on our planet
Is due to adaptation, thus survival, to ever-changing conditions on earth.
The antithesis of this is the desire of humans for standardization--
Sameness and comfort to continual and 'familiar' known entities.
Biologically, this leads, of course, to ever-weakening biological systems,
Which Homo sapiens are managing and controlling for their own pleasure.
How is this at all germane to our cheeses?
Well, we are facing a collapse of microbial diversity.
We have been relying on a single fragile strain of fungi
Which is now at a risk of dying out of existence on our planet.
To create our cheeses, Penicillium biforme has been chosen
To yield the desired colors, flavors, and aroma which the populus desires.
Now P. camemberti, a developed strain, considered a 'species',
Cannot reproduce, and must be continually created
By ever-more difficult cloning methods.
Along the way, other strains of mold have vanished from disuse.
The desired fluffy white mold, which grows quickly,
Has reached a condition which is locked in and not now found in the wild!
With variations of P. camemberti being completely stifled,
There has been an increase of harmful mutational errors in its genome.

Other cheeses, for the same reasons, are not out of danger--
A couple are Gorgonzola and Roquefort.
The single variety of cloned bananas, with an effective pest,
Could be completely decimated.
Variations of wheat strains are vital for survival, now facing the Climate Crisis.
Finally, if diversity within a species is lost, adaptability is lost.
With this in mind, we humans must revel in the pending enjoyment
Of the future variety of slight changes in color, aroma, and flavor!

Some General 'Rules' to Ponder. (Written With B. Franklin in Mind.) opus 307

A large monoculture is a dangerous thing.

Tolerance ultimately leads to peace.

Trial and error in biological systems
leads to continual, ultimate successes.

Following only one philosophy
can lead to the loss of unknown experience.

One must always be aware
of the limitations of the living system.

Happiness is not contentment
and joy cannot be continually experienced.

Restricted standards in biology
can often destroy the required variation for survival.

With only one, DNA based system of earthly life,
how could there ever be one ultimately 'special' life?

Humanism is the understanding and reverence for all life,
without an interfering supreme being.

By destroying your environment,
you are destroying yourself.

Without sex, life would be just a bunch of independent clones.

Without religion, early rulers could not
have well-controlled large groups of 'subjects'.
Perhaps such is still the same today?

A moderated, ritualized competition 'for the girl',
Might lead to a safer conclusion, as with many other life forms,
just as a good parasite should never kill its host.

No matter under what circumstances--
testerone, belief, and a resulting conflict
always lead to human tragedy.

Throughout the universe,
water may be the ultimate limiting factor.

Liquid, steam, and ice are the three forms of water.
How fortunate for many earthly forms of life
that the solid state is less dense than the liquid!

For every action, there is a reaction;
that includes chemistry, physics, and human emotion!

Without language, human emotion
would be expressed without a rainbow.

If heat did not rise, our first modes of flight
would have been impossible.

Without evolution, most niches for life
would have been unutilized.

To a Celtic-Cuban opus 339

Oh, you dear woman who struck me at my first moment's sight,
Merely perused on a Christmas card.
Fire emanating from you, with hot coals flowing down your shoulders.
You are what would be in a long time past--
A leader, on a gallant horse, leading troops of truth,
As did the mounted Boudicca, fighting for the celtic cause
Against the invading Romans.
I know little of your total accomplishments,
But you demonstrate the art of your place
And interpret for us the wonders of your environment.
Your Man, your wee one, and your physique
Tell me as a stranger, you are to be gently reckoned with.
I shall enter your place and environs with
Respectful trepidation and total honor for your traditions.
My horse and I kneel as we enter before you.
May we have mutual and continual understanding
For our earthly accomplishments,
To allow a beneficial environment for our offspring.
Bless you dear lady and I remain in perpetuity
Your servant in kind.

Strong People opus 347

Strong people do not need strong leaders.
When strong people are wounded, they have limited pain
And as strong people heal, they bind up and get on with it.

With this in mind, how many do we really know?

A Pastoral (Bucolic) Sunday Visit opus 350

(An invitation for a Visit to my Ophthalmologist.)

Hello dear Carmine et al.

The weather will be marvelous tomorrow and I am free
To interact with my fellow Homo sapiens.
Please come, the two of you, and enjoy some time together.
You all will be here on Terra Firma in perpetuity,
But I may have just the 'blink of an eye' remaining!
(No medical talk tomorrow--just praising that of having the visual ability
To swoon with the exquisite sights all around us,
Some of which I will humbly interpret for you.)

Seriously, I will relate to no hospital superior
That you have entered my territory--neither mental nor geographic.
It would give me such pleasure to spend a few moments with you
In the freedom of my territory, which I have defended
And made productive for the nation and the world.

I invite you as your devoted and steadfast patient.

Frank

A Mammalian (Human) Territorial Flaw opus 353

Most living creatures, in order to eat well and breed successfully,
Need space, territory, habitat, feeding ground, display area. ...
Humans have gone several steps beyond all this.
Not only do they need area for resource production, living space and so,
But they delve in another mind dimension--that of the holy and revered spaces.
These are territories which, as abstract as they are,
Are to be claimed, maintained, and defended as fiercely as if they were wheat fields,
Without vital seed to eat, but places where one meets a Chosen Entity.
And more, if that space is desired by others,
There is no thought, but to hold and defend it unto death.
A 'simple' mammalian (in our case) functional behaviour to survive has super evolved
Into an abstract set of emotions which continually divide our human world.
If we could only see through this behaviour--completely--
More gentleness and understanding and compromise would prevail!

Any Compensation for Palestinian Lands? opus 356

Much before the creation of Israel in 1948,
Palestine endured great turmoil
With continual internal harassment,
From those anticipating, at last, a Jewish State--
Even to the point of poisoning drinking wells
To remove both human and animal from their homes.
The oppressed side calls it Nakba which it seems
Will never be forgotten, thus perpetuating
The present great unrest.

Perhaps if established today, in the light of justice,
Might there not be from the start,
A logically created two state solution--
Each side maintaining its national dignity and pride?
How simple and straightforward a conclusion
For the equality and autonomy of both--
And how, so much strife might thus be avoided,
Both in Palestine and for the concerned world at large.

Technological Augmentation of Testosterone opus 360

The hormone testosterone flows strongly in male human mammalians,
Formerly adapted to augment strength, aggression and fearlessness
For self survival and to protect those living in their small bands.

Today, with the invention of more and more powerful firearms,
The strength of testosterone is now transferred from the body alone
To a powerful and over-proportionally functional trigger finger.

The Fall Risk opus 362

At almost 83, I was yet again faced
With an operation complex enough to be put under.
A large squamous growth on my outer left leg.
Arriving at the hospital, concluding a loquacious taxi ride,
During which we discussed passing farming practices,
I went through the normal drill--
Copay, of course; ID, medical allergies, etc.,
And the normal anointing of my right wrist
With the white bracelet, containing the particulars
Which content the medical staff.
Then, gently, an additional new bracelet
Was juxtaposed by the usual white one--
It was narrower and streamlined and bright yellow--
Large, black lettering announced--'Fall Risk'.

Now, I ID and 'label' birds in my pursuit of new species--
Morphology, call, and feathering to yield age and sex.
Just as I have done so for many years with birds,
The receptionist has ID'ed me as a 'patient type'!
'Why this manner of ID?', I asked.
'Well, your age for one, and your cane!'
Unfortunately, she nailed it--no squirming out--
Just as I make 'positive' bird IDs, so had she!
I am what I am, in this last quarter of my life,
And now, just as with my beloved birds,
I have been absolutely identified and categorized and banded!

So Many Choices are Dividing Us opus 365

As our technology continually fragments,
It results in a kaleidoscope of competing means of communication.
How our news is transmitted from many rival sources
As well as what type of means we just 'talk' to each other,
Has divided our society, our politics, our religious groups,
As well as our basic family structure!
'I listen only to this or that--the others are fake.'
'I do not and will not talk with you on such and such a technology--
I use only such and such a means to communicate.'
The old fashioned telephone is now considered slow, intrusive,
And the voice is obsolete!
Faxing, Email, and texting plus others go quickly out of mode and fashion.
With our present many means of learning what is going on (news!),
Or how we just talk with each other,
Has no longer brought us together, but has divided us,
To the point that we just plain refuse to interact,
Merely because of the 'brand' of the means used.
With all this technology, we are being brainwashed
Into separated states of isolation.

Are We Really Following the Correct Philosophy? opus 366

We are privileged with a star, we call the sun,
Which maintains light and temperature to evolve and sustain life.
As a result, we inhabit a 'blue planet', rare in our solar system.
As thinking beings who have developed competing, elevated philosophies,
To attempt to explain our sojourn on our special planet,
Why is it that these elevated thought processes
Have at times done nothing but create conflict and competition?
We need 'reverence', enabling a phylogenetic long-term
Peaceful coexistence of our species.

The Sacred Piano Keyboard opus 369

It is common to purchase a child size violin or cello.
Why is there such resistance to reduce the size of the piano keys?
The piano keys are too wide for the reach of children,
Those with smaller adult hands, and for many women,
Who are naturally, morphologically smaller.
To reach a spread of 10 keys is impossible for many--
Eight and sometimes nine keys are often achievable,
But with the potential that hand injury will result.
Realize that 80 percent of piano competitions are won by men,
While 75 percent of violin competitions are won by women!
Surely, no more evidence, need be presented.
Is there a possibility this is a male dominated 'pianist world'
To reduce the success and recognition of their fellow female musicians?

(On a similar, sexist point, remember, that it has been men fashion designers
Who have continually created high heel shoes, merely to augment
The bulge of the calf, and thus the result being mostly for male visual delight!
This, of course, is at the expense of the podiatry health of women.)

Flying XIII. Emergency Landings opus 370

As my flight lessons progressed, the complexity of emergency test landings unfolded.
As we took off over the runway, the instructor would suddenly pull the throttle,
Which caused the loss of power and the immediate need to land.
The idea was to turn, while not stalling, and quickly land back or beside the runway.
Quick thinking is needed to determine if a plane next in line is taking off,
Making it necessary to land 'on the grass' next to the runway.
Of course, with the change of direction, one is further challenged by landing with the wind.

Another instance, important to learn, is finding a landing spot from a higher altitude.
At three to five thousand feet and the artificial loss of power,
The challenge is to locate a field or beach or highway,
And spiral down, attempting to figure wind direction, terrain,
As well as judging the advantageous spot on which the wheels must touch.
The instructor waits until the last 'perfect' moment
And immediately pushes in the throttle to restore life to the malfunctioning flying machine.
With much relief, one listens for the evaluation of the attempted landing.
Even though these lessons are abrupt and cause elevated blood pressure,
It is all in the game and the higher level of challenge
Becomes more 'normal' and acceptable and a part of one's 'new reality'.

Playful Orcas? opus 371

For a number of years now
Orcas have been ramming smaller boats,
Often targeting the rudders, which are demolished.
Some have even managed to overturn a boat or two!
The question has always been as to why this occurs?
Is it an action of revenge for climate change and the diminishing food supply,
Or possibly the invasion of boats with their terribly disruptive motor sounds?
After some study by marine biologists, a conclusion has been formed--
It appears to be young animals, which are merely being playful!
Hitting these boats is all in a day's hunting technique
And nothing more than roughing up their normal prey.
Remember that cetaceans are intelligent and, like their fellow humans,
Play is part of the way of gaining skills to be used in 'serious life'.

(Orcas avoid jellyfish, so a successful remedy
Is to paint jellyfish on the hull and rudder!
Might it work? We'll see!)

Designing Bandages alla Betsy Ross opus 377

I was with my wound women at the hospital,
Designing bandages to cover various wounds
Derived from several cancer operations.
I volunteered to shape and fit these wound covers,
To be long lasting in spite of bodily movements,
Thus maintaining their protection.
Elyse, the LVN, allowed me to participate
And seemed to be impressed with my work,
Suggesting that I replace her as the 'wound lady',
When she was next on her few days off!
What a nice compliment for me--
Her words were the catalyst which harbored up so many memories
Of my past cutting, snipping and binding together with thread,
My past delving into the world of Betsy Ross.
The clincher to all this was when Britta, her boss and my wound guru,
Smiled approvingly to make it all believable!

Our Diastemas opus 387

When I mention to most people, asking what a diastema is,
The majority do not know--even if they exhibit one!
Of course, it is the space between front upper and/or lower incisors.
I lived with a diastema most of my life,
Until I needed to have partials (deciding that implants were too expensive).
As they were molded, I failed to mention I had a--now non-existent--diastema.
As a result the teeth in my upper jaw are all shifted to the left!
I am beyond vanity at nearly 83, and find it just one more fun talking point.

Having had this condition, I always noticed, especially in black Americans,
That many singers, speakers, politicians who sported a diastema.
My wondering came to an end, after a bit of research.
First, it is an African trait, whites exhibiting one because we are
all basically African!
In Africa (eg Ghana and Nigeria) with European prejudice,
Africans there were not valuing nor enjoying their diastemas,
But with independence, the whole concept flipped into a positive trend.
Today, 95 percent in Africa find MMD's (Maxillary Midline Diastemas)
very beautiful.
Moreover, 95 percent of the diastemaless population wish and actually
want to create one!
Genetically, developmental causes affect as many as 36 percent of black people,
While affecting as few as 3.5 percent in the caucasian population.
We in this country and possibly in Europe
Do not even think about a diastema and its influence on attractiveness,
But now-a-days in Africa and perhaps those in the western world,
Black people are very aware of the little space between their teeth!

The Homeland opus 407

The great flaw of many humans
Is the desire to return to their origins.
Unknowingly, the neighborhood has often altered,
Yielding an early dream into a continual nightmare.

A Deceptive Account opus 410

Three hostages returned from Russia in the middle of the night.
The President and VP were there to welcome them.
After the greetings, the elderly President entered the parked plane.
A myth started that the old President entered an 'empty plane',
Thinking it was his Air Force One.
So incorrect. Obviously he entered to compliment the pilots,
As well as congratulating the seven staffers remaining in the plane.
Unless one does a little checking and uses some common sense,
A completely false recounting might always be believed.
BEWARE!
Falsely misleading one's opponents to gain power
Is continually an increasingly negative phenomenon
We must now sadly live with in an ever-complicated existence of lies.

Solitude opus 425

There are many (most?) of us who feel overloaded with tasks--
And many (most?) fantasize for a schedule with lots or total free time.
Then there are those who have almost all total free time,
And, bored, desperately wish to have a schedule and tasks
Thus feeling relevant and productive.

The real choice is to understand and then be creative, managing one's time.

To No One opus 434

In my youth you taught me your strong ways.
I was tolerant and interested and did not repel you.
You made it clear when showing me your dishware--
If I were to come and share repast,
I would be forbidden to use that dishware.
That was my introduction to your eating laws.

Later and older, I was talking with a female teen,
Who was plain to view, but nicely intelligent.
Her mother entered and cleared out all but me
And announced that my ancestors had destroyed Jerusalem
And I was never to become close to her daughter.
I was shocked, but innocently agreed with what, I was not certain.

Attempting dating, I was snubbed once by other parents
When I arrived to pick up their daughter for a dance.
At my fiftieth reunion I heard the same story from a fellow male student.

(I donated my hand carved stone for the new high school building!)

Much later in my seventies I returned from far away
To the general territory and people with whom I grew up.
I was kindly invited to the home of a now fellow elder.
They kept the laws to which I was introduced so long ago.
When we took repast, I found I was eating off a paper plate!
This to me was another blow going way back to that girl's mother.

Now I watch and have watched since 1948,
The constant battles and the taking of territory
With that reinvasion, 2000 years later.
Yes, there have been great injustices,
But is all this worth it to either side and to their innocent children
Who know nothing of this history and are just taught to suffer and hate?
Guilt is very powerful and sometimes can be misled
To an erroneous and painful conclusion.

Kris Kristofferson -- A Look-A-Like? opus 437

People I met in the 80's and 90's would often say,
'You look like Kris Kristofferson!'
I even had an encounter with a gentleman
Who traversed a large parking lot to verify
Whether or not I was indeed the great star!
All this amused me, but I was never sure just why.
Kris has just died at the good age of 88.
Upon checking on who he really was,
Impressed me beyond belief.
I had thought he was just a film star, but no:
Football player, paratrooper, helicopter pilot, boxer;
A Rhodes scholar, studying Shakespeare and William Blake!
He was disowned by his military parents,
For leaving that institution to write songs.
'His songs were like short stories.'
One of his quotes made me feel great kinship:
"I am a songwriter, but I'm also concerned with my fellow human beings.
And I'm real concerned with the soul of my country."
In the end, he had profound short term memory loss,
Something which for me, would be devastating,
But he persevered and was productive to the end.

I may have looked like Kris Kristofferson, but in my now older age,
I deeply understand that looks alone are meaningless.
He and I have some similarities in our accomplishments,
But in spite of his great fame, I would have still felt comfortable
To sit with him and juxtapose our philosophies together.
Kris, you are a great example of a human using your full potential, honorably.

Sports - To Be or Not To Be opus 441

I am no great follower of sports.
I see them on the one hand
As a human diversion, watching grown people,
Usually making several million dollars,
While batting a ball from place to place;
Often, in some sports,
To pound the opponent almost to death
And, as we well know,
Delayed death has also sometimes occurred.

On the other hand, the excitement and surge of adrenalin,
May divert the aggression of some people
Which might well avert physical harm on fellow humans--
Although it is well known that spousal abuse
Occasionally occurs following a lost football game.

Whatever might be the correct hypothesis,
Sports are here to stay, making millions for some
And filling some obvious human need,
The huge support manifested by the crowds.

A Marine Fantasy opus 449

In a dream of my long past, I built ships.
We sailed (and rowed!) from one island to another,
Each hidden from view by the curvature of the Earth.
If we were careful in our construction we arrived safely--
Of course storms were often a deciding factor.

To construct such a vehicle there were no nails--
Each plank was cut and fitted to the next.
We made small holes along the planks
And literally tied the future boat together.
(We thus simply sinued tight the planks.)
Along the joining margins of these planks of wood,
We sealed each line of joint with pine pitch,
Ensuring, as best we could,
The future seaworthiness of our vessel.
Our floating creation led us into our unknown future,
Much as all decisions made by each of us,
Lead us into the unknown of life,
Ready to meet the ultimate unknown of eternal darkness.

The Right-Handed, Left-Sided Elbow Phenomenon opus 454

If you have paid attention to someone conducting a public speech,
There are a few who seem to get a little emotional
And the left elbow starts to wave gently in and out.
I am assuming this occurs as a release of tension.
But why the left elbow?--I am deducing the speaker was right-handed.
I have no proof of this, but only 10% of us are left-handed,
So I conclude that I have not yet noted this with any lefties.
I am sticking my neck out with these observations,
But I have seen enough to come to an uneducated conclusion.
To go even a bit further, I believe I have seen the phenomenon
More in women than in men.

OK, check me out on this--
TV announcers and politicians make good fodder.
And please, try to observe something else equivalent of interest.
It is actually quite fun and keeps one's mind
On what could be an otherwise very boring speech!

A Superfluous Opinion opus 458

I received a donation to our student endowment
With calligraphy very bold, plain, but attractive.
I assumed that the male donor's wife was the writer--
This was of course with the assumption
That this was a 'woman's craft'.
I thus questioned him concerning his wife's contribution.
Oh no! He had been a draftsman
And thus his accomplished writing style.

How wrong a superfluous opinion can be.

Zebra Stripes opus 460

Zebras have stripes not for 'normal' camouflage,
But to be more invisible to biting flies!
How do we know? It has been researched.
To jump to an 'obvious conclusion' only
Is not fulfilling the needed human empirical conclusions,
We must all need to study and follow--
In all things.

Attempted Robbery opus 463

We all have seen reenactments of various robberies--
Banks, stagecoaches, in an alley, during war.
But have you actually been a part of and felt what it was like?
Around August 1973, I was on home leave from my African teaching job.
I was half way home in Rio de Janeiro for a stop over,
Spending an evening at the theatre, then walking back to the hotel,
where Pierre, my first born, (three months) and his mother were waiting.
I decided to take a short cut behind the main thoroughfare.
Walking in a lighted, but narrower area between buildings and the river,
I was commencing to pass by two 'guys' leaning against the railing.
As I passed, they suddenly confronted me with a small, silver pistol.
We spoke different languages, but I knew what they were demanding.
I was larger than they, so I talked, holding out my arms to appear large--
Just like Konrad Lorenze (an ethologist) had done, confronting a barracuda,
To ward off the giant fish while scuba diving--
And it seemed to work as they impatiently waved me on.
After saying 'Obrigado' I moved away, but decided on a strategy;
In case they tried to shoot me in the back,
I ran with a premeditated zigzag to avoid a clear shot.
No shot occurred and I was most relieved as I rounded a right corner.

Was I afraid? As I remember 50 years later,
I was seized with adrenalin and tenseness, but not with fear.
It passed through me as an extreme event in life
And not a pending tragedy with possible wounding or death.
No matter what, it still remains vividly in my memory.

Our Gladiator History opus 468

Our early species eventually lived in small groups.
Violence was usually occasional, but real.
Later, male Homo sapiens ritualized warfare in 'theatre'.
Cultures even used heads of the vanquished
As a ball, to play games of sport.
Then came the Romans and the gladiator era.
Often slaves or conquest-ones fought and died for status.
Crowds of fellow humans came to watch their usual demise.
Today, many participate in war games and reenactments.
Also, we delight and enjoy our (generally)
Bloodless but very competitive sports.
And we add to all that the vicarious entertainment
Of films and 'pods' depicting violence of one sort or another.
Why is it, fascinated drivers slow down and gawk at traffic accidents?

I sadly conclude that we are a species which basically and really,
Enjoys even vicarious violence upon each other.

The Beaching Enigma opus 474

Recently a pod of 30 Pilot whales beached themselves on a coast of Australia.
Many human volunteers rushed to the crisis with sheets,
Rolled each cetacean into the makeshift hammock
And floated them back into deeper surf to once again be free.
It is still a mystery as to why whales make this fatal mistake.

As a result of an educated, understanding human population,
Creatures who were hunted almost to extinction,
Now are rescued, with great effort, to continue to live.

The moral may be that an enemy or prey species,
Through education and understanding,
Can become an ally or a non-hunted one.
Compassion and realization and edification can make a difference
As to how we humans might at least relate to the rest of our world.

Pyramid Meditation opus 475

Two followers of the Maharishi of India and 'creator' of
Transcendental Meditation,
Stopped for a day in Istanbul, Turkiye, and shared their craft with us.
I was given a 'mantra' which began my voyage into alpha wave 'production'.
Even hospitalized in Turkiye, I meditated to the point
I 'experienced' levitation from my bed.

Later, on my African home leave, once again, in 1975, I stopped in Guatemala,
Wishing to seek out the ancient Mayan pyramids of the area.
Walking on the trail to the great structures at Tikal,
I noticed large holes in the barrier fences along the trail.
After visiting and experiencing the pyramids in daylight,
I fantasized a night visit to experience a moonlight pyramid meditation.
As planned, I returned after dark, utilized the holes along the way
And quietly climbed the long train of narrow steps to one of the stone
structure's apex.
The steps were formed narrowly, to obligate a climber to remain sideways,
Preventing one from facing straight towards the gods.
Alpha waves flowed freely and plentifully during that brainwave experience!
My memory of that view, flooded with moonlight,
Lives vibrantly in my old, but very crisp past images.

Story Telling opus 478

Story telling is a very human trait.
How a story is told, molds the strength or weakness
Of a person or group.
Families who know and understand their stories,
Produce stronger and better adapted individuals
Facing life's challenges.
So, talk with one another and be stronger (in life)
During your passage through time.

A Note to a Daughter-in-Law opus 481

The murder of my two lovely hens by a dog(?)
Does not at all equal my sadness
By not being able to just plain
Talk with you and with your son.
Strange, I could talk with my two hens,
Even verbally, urging them into their shelter at night.

So, finally, I could talk with two sweet birds,
But not with a 'bird' who is human.

A Positive Point Towards Talking opus 495

When we are actually talking with another,
Rather than via a modern electronic device,
Our heart rate might mutually increase, as well as,
Dilation of eyes, and increased similar brain activity.
Electronic devices do not often elicit these mutual reactions.
Thus, perhaps one might conclude that those who are truly aware,
Will never totally abandon good, and often necessary,
Audible conversations.
Electronic intercourse is not really a part of basic human behavior.

(The telephone still has the voice and its inflections,
So, as a 'needed' compromise, speakers have learned
To exaggerate the voice a bit to get their point across.
Emojis, concerning their attempted remedy,
Really fall short of this emotional communication )

Our National Mindset opus 496

It is not guns alone causing our chaos,
But rather a national state of mind, 'allowing' a source of violence.
As long as we elect leaders who use 'violent speak',
Our national mentality will increasingly shift from a loving, caring center,
To a state of accepting and even approving the violent approach.
(Greenland, to be taken over by our military?? etc.)

A Plural Transgresses into a Singular opus 497

ACTUAL QUOTES:
THEY will be able to do that THEMSELF. (themselves)
WE are already working on that project OURSELF. (ourselves)
THEY should be able to vote THEIRSELF!!! (themselves)
WE don't need to wait until the end of our LIFE. (lives)
If that occurs, THEY will all lose their LIFE. (lives)
No ONE has lost THEIR (for the proper 'he or she') HOUSES (house)
(trying to agree with the 'false' THEIR, when it is a singular subject).

I have heard them all--
Why is it we now use a plural subject
And end with a singular personal pronoun or object?
Is it too cumbersome and laborious
To use THEMSELVES or LIVES in our sentences today?
Have we come to the point where we just must streamline
So much so that we destroy grammatical agreement?
The plural is now transgressing into the singular and vice versa!

Did Neanderthals Have a Feeling of Ownership? opus 499

I have now collected a good number of Neanderthal stone tools,
These from an old collection in France--tools 100,000 years old!
I hold each one, and feel how it might have been to skin a Fallow deer.
Many made of flint or chalcedony
Are more or less attractive in color and shape.
Some seem to have been more efficient in their task.
Some feel more comfortable when held, ready for the task.
From this I wonder if, as we might have behaved,
That there were 'favorite' tools, claimed exclusively for ownership.
'No, that is my tool--do not dare touch it.'
Did Neanderthals have a feeling of personal possession?
We now know they collected objects of 'useless' beauty,
Just for the attractiveness of the shell or stone.
By discerning beauty, did these people feel ownership
Of some of their stone tools?

A Love Dream opus 509

I woke from a soft dream.
I was with a soft one.
The best I had ever experienced.
I was satisfied that, with our blending,
I had given her the best she had ever felt.
All couples should have such mutuality!

A Child's Mind! 1 opus 513

Rowan, my 4-year-old grandson, visited today.
I had hidden a four inch wide metal 'ladybug' in the grass
For him to have a game to try and find it.
I told him it was his to take back home,
But, for the moment, all he wanted to do
Was to have it hidden once more,
So he might attempt to look for it once again!
He repeated this three more times, without tiring.
I asked him again if he would like to take it home,
Or possibly leave it at the farm
To hunt for it on the next visit.
It had a lovely red carapace with seven big white spots;
I thought for sure he would take it home.
Nope, he asked me to save it here
For his next round of 'seeking'.
I am never sure what his little mind will come up with.
We had such a lovely, meaningful afternoon.

Why Do We Talk to Ourselves? opus 521

How many times have you caught yourself talking to 'no one'!
Why do we humans continue such one-sided conversations?
Do children better learn their language and thus it is adaptively ingrown?
Do we repeat something out loud so that we might not forget?
Do we, in a critical and stressful moment, talk aloud to release tension?
Do we, anticipating a date or interview, give ourselves an audible pep talk?
Do we repeat out loud, so this 'self-talk' reinforces our memories?
Do we repeat incessantly to ready for a rebutting response or argument?
Do we chat aloud to just plain calm ourselves down?
Are we scripting to assure ourselves of a necessary procedure?
Are we just having a conversation with a companion animal?
Are we a puppeteer voicing a thought
Through our normally inanimate dummies?
Are we alone and talking to a recently deceased loved one?
Or are we just plain journaling, or externally thinking,
Or simply compensating memory?

A New Gaza Playa Report? opus 523

'Someone' has proposed that the ruins of Gaza should be cleared,
The indigenous population be removed elsewhere,
And the enclave be opened to international pleasure.
Might this violate a few international rules of law and ethics?
Not so sure, but the proposal is out there in the ether!

The Dog That Went Too Far--An Allegory opus 527

Our farm needed a replacement watchdog.
We viewed a homeless, nice looking German Shepherd cross.
We all knew German Shepherds had their reputations,
But we voted and made the choice to give him a chance.
We needed a guard dog, the position high in our farm bureaucracy.
All seemed to go well, but there were glimpses
Of the possible predatory instincts of our nominee.
True enough, one night we returned to find a large open pen
Of communal rabbits had all been thoughtlessly slaughtered.
With discussion, some said to shoot the dog on the spot,
While others said that it should be banished or removed from the farm.
Our rules and governance of the once stable farm
Had been completely crippled and almost destroyed,
Because so many innocent rabbits had been needlessly slaughtered.
We needed to decide quickly so that no more such acts would occur.
Being a humaine group, a nice isolated home was negotiated and found,
And our farm managed to recoup and continue thriving.
Even by running our farm in a procedural way,
We were misled by the initial behavior of this dog.
Our lesson learned was to be more prudent and careful
In making decisions, concerning such an important station,
Supporting the hierarchy of our democratically run farm society.

Overcoming the Impossible opus 528

I had a terrible fish allergy when I was young.
I rolled on the floor, gasping for breath, and no one understood why.
Ahh, finally it was figured out that I had a severe fish allergy.
I went weekly to Dr. Clifford to have weekly injections
And then bits of fish, from those I had caught in our local Crystal Lake.
It didn't work, so months of immunization went down the tubes.
At camp I washed dishes to earn a scholarship;
Fridays were lethal when I wiped the sweat off my head,
And the fish oil in the sink's sudzy water would get into my mouth.
I persevered, hating this allergy, trying tastes of fish defiantly.
Finally at 50 years, my biology changed and I could taste fish carefully.
One day I went into a fish market and asked how this and that tasted.
The fishmonger was perplexed, until I explained about my past allergy.
At last I was free. I had persevered and had beat my biology.
Last night I cooked up a lovely piece of flavored Cod.
In past times, that would have been like Socrates imbibing the hemlock.
My biology did help, but my insistence got me over the goal.
Perhaps that is why the 'impossible' projects I have tackled,
Many times were successful, because I had learned not to give up.

Flowers for Marty opus 538

My friend of many years, Marty, was chatting with a participant about me
At a Quail Ridge Reserve ceremony honoring my work in conservation.
Along the way, Marty was asked how he had originally met me,
Marty outlined a few interesting characteristics,
Explained where he had met me with one outstanding point--
I was the only male who, during all his life,
Had actually presented to him a large bundle of flowers!
(He didn't mention that I raised thousands of narcissus and daffodils
Which I sold in several Farmers Markets,
And also spontaneously handed them out to all sexes, as I chose!)
Now the secret is out.

A Source of Emotion. (A true tale.) opus 539

A father was informed that his son's car had struck a deer.
The father then drove to the son's side to give aid and comfort.
The car was damaged, but drivable.
The son was emotional and even in tears.
Upon calming down, father and son, then returned home.

With analysis, an interesting and in depth enquiry might now be asked.
Were the understandable flow of tears a result of
Self emotion? Compassion for a killed deer?
Or both of these sources of emotion, resulting in those tears?

A Pseudo Peace (For Patrick) opus 547

I have a former acquaintance
Who boycotts me because of my verbal outburst,
Against the government of a certain nation,
The leaders of which are seeking revenge
Based on a ratio of 1200 to 51,000.
My math says that sort of ratio
Is not a 'balanced equation'.
Does one finally scream out
Or hold one's peace for a pseudo peace?

Assault on Democracy? opus 567

So many drastic changes (executive orders) in fewer than 100 days,
Which already concerns and brings fear to much of the population.
In fewer than four years, which will now unfold,
What chaos and disorder might be then fixed in our government
And in the general cosmopolitan population?

A Dream to Freedom! opus 571

I am an aging man of nearly 84 now and for the last two years,
With a right hip replacement which was 'mis-mounted'--turned a few degrees inward--
As well as slowly wearing out from labor and fatigue,
I walk now slowly and carefully so as not to fall.
Last night I had an interesting dream, which I demanded my mind to remember.
I met a couple of 'guys' with whom I began running.
I remember being very swift and mostly in the lead,
As I had been most of the time before 80.
The soil was reddish. There were many pines. We followed old trails,
But often we had to maneuver alongside bulldozer paths.
It was back and forth between the two pathway types.
At one point, the trail led us under a highway overpass--
I remember the several round cement posts supporting the roadway.
As I woke up, images began to become jumbled.
I believe, in the dream, it was getting dark, and I personally wondered
How we would find our way 'back' in the dark night.
At that point, I fully woke and, being so intrigued with the dream,
I made myself be able to recall, even in the new wakeful state.
I have often managed to recollect many details in my dreams,
By training my mind to repeat details in sequential depth.
Of course, my mind was rebelling, using my swift dream-race,
To contrast with my now slow plodding which I must endure--
Merely moving from one spot to another.
Even though it was a dream, I woke, feeling refreshed and fully mobile!

Compassionate Leadership opus 574

There was a leader of a certain country,
Who treated most of his fellow leaders in a demeaning manner.
A certain pope of Italy died and world leaders attended his funeral.
As the leader of that certain country entered with his wife,
The whole gathering remained absolutely silent.
Whereas, as the leader governing previously to that certain leader,
Who was compassionate and caring for his people and his fellow leaders,
Entered and received a loud welcome from those fellow leaders.
A compassionate leader will always be greeted and perceived positively,
Even if not every one of his attempts at governing was always successful.

My Pictish Beast Tattoo opus 577

Among other peoples, I am a Pict--
The tattooed or painted ones of Scotland.
I first saw the petroglyph, 'Craw Sten' of Rhynie
Several decades ago atop its hill--
Angled salmon above and Pictish Beast beneath,
On a standing stone two meters high.
I have utilized the image of this Beast
As a logo on all my literature.
Now, after 10 or more years of pondering,
I am ready to endure a baptismal tattoo
On my own left forearm.
I shall be kilted, with a hippo tusk lying nearby,
Accompanied by a bunched cluster of ancient mammoth hair.
There shall be a Swiss cow bell, as part of my past.
I shall add ancestral Erectus and Neanderthal stone tools,
Formerly used to skin said mammoths.
An attending Turk there, shall represent the Fertile Crescent;
A South African shall represent our African human origins;
And Drew, the artist, returned from 39 years abroad
Will represent my own sojourn in Sweden.
We shall be conversing in Swedish and Turkish and English.
After one half hour, I shall be marked for the remainder of my life.
Just as the new pope was recently inaugurated into the church,
So shall I finally be enfolded into my Pictish fellowship.

This poem shall be read before commencing with the marking (21 May 2025).

To See or To Hear; And Then There is Walking opus 579

Many millennia ago humans evolved to be upright,
Changing the whole orientation of the body;
Thus creating a new dimension and meaning of the verb 'to walk'.
My whole life has been one of walking--
Moving quickly from room to room, or from farm field to field.
My childhood continually involved exploring places by foot.
All my field work for the doctorate included miles of walking,
Checking and attending trap lines,
While studying Microtus pennsylvanicus (voles!).

As a youngster, I pondered many hypotheticals--
Losing my eyesight vs my hearing often came across my mind.
I even considered at one point, learning Braille and working with the blind.
Now that I am almost 84, something else has come to the fore;
Namely, my ability to walk, as I always have--quickly and efficiently.
After a hip replacement, 'installed' slightly 'inwardly',
And the aging factor of just plain slowly wearing out,
I now walk with some difficulty, always observing for possible obstacles.
Falling is now foremost in my thoughts--
Continually attempting to avoid any cryptic catastrophe;
There is also some minor pain, adding to the mix.
So, so much for pondering on 'whether sight or whether sound'.
Life plays tricks on one and, that which seemed paramount,
Turns onto another unconsidered malady!

A Moment in an Elevator on the Second Floor opus 582

I was exiting from my Ophthalmologist exam;
Entered the nearby elevator and pressed the button.
Nothing. No up nor down. My mind started to calculate:
Would I be abandoned here for hours?
I had heard of such--those marooned in these up and down devices.
My mind calmly covered the possibilities.
Checking, I then looked up at the elevator indicator--
A red number '2'.
What had I done to cause such?
I am on '2', wishing to descend to '1'.
But the indicator says '2'.
OMG--'The wrong button was pressed?'
Humbly, I pressed '1' and low and behold, I descended!
Amused and relieved, I exited onto '1' with additional relief
And a joyous feeling, walking out into the afternoon sun!

Exaggeration or Untruth? opus 583

Two political parties recently vied against each other,
Both claiming reduced food prices for their public.
Now the party presently in power have touted
That 'prices are down'; even eggs are now 400% reduced in price!
Actually, egg prices have fallen by only 67%.
Many other food prices also remain higher than they were previously.
Do we, the public, take these continual claims with a grain of salt,
Or realize that there is a continual shift towards a new reality?

Is There Really a Singular 'THEY'? opus 586

'THEY'--the third person plural--is just that--plural.
But, know, that 'THEY' has struggled a vicarious existence.
Even you have most likely utilized the singular 'THEY'.
'EveryONE should put on THEIR life jackets now!'
'EACH student loves the time when THEY are free at recess.'
It is a 'borrowed' genderless pronoun, designating anyone.
Using 'HE or SHE' seems really awkward, not falling off the tongue.
Creating and using 'EX or HEESH'--clever, but will never catch on.

And now we have just added a new complication--
'THEY' as a personal pronoun! The 'new THEY'. (More on that to come.)
Many do not wish to use 'HE or SHE', 'HIM or HER'.
Being linguistically able, I could carefully use the 'new THEY',
But I even have trouble turning off the car radio,
Until that last bit of a classical music piece has concluded!

'We-Other' opus 587

Old, later English used to commonly use
The first person plural in an awkward, 'We-Other' or variations thereof
It included 'me' or 'I' and 'all the rest' or 'the others'.
English has pruned that away to just using 'we'.
But--there is a language which still utilizes the old form!
Guess which one? The very much used Spanish!
'We' in Spanish is 'Nosotros'.
Ok, dissect it; 'Nos' = 'We' and 'Otros' = other.
Wow, just always under our noses!
When I broach this complete history with Spanish speakers,
They are astonished that they had never contemplated its meaning.

Fathers' Day (15 June 2025) opus 588

A book recently released, outlined 'The History of Fatherhood'.
During the author's research,
He asked his adult son what makes a good father.
The son's immediate response astounded his father--
'A good father should be funny and give many hugs.'
The author, amazingly, thought for two weeks,
Before he concluded that this described his wife's behavior and character!
Over the years, since the first Fathers' Day, 110 years ago, indeed,
The role of fathers has slowly evolved from a powerful disciplinarian
To a more participating, gentle role of parent.

Can a Monkey Really Read? opus 592

In Hong Kong, monkeys have been witnessed
Destroying something very relevant to their outreach--
Namely, signs which read: 'Do Not Feed the Monkeys!'

Adumbrations of Death opus 593

At the age of nearly 84, it is inevitable, my sensing the nearing of death.
On the longest day of the year, and doing farm chores myself,
I broke the work session into two,
Resting in between the feeding and the overseeing.
(Jessie, my man, was away on his wedding anniversary.)
I was, as usual, slow in my walk and efforts.
At about four, I sat and went through mail,
Enjoying the outside breeze and afternoon diminishing temperatures.
I felt then, I should lie down to rest for a moment,
As my chest felt light and I pondered what was to pass.
I wondered whether or not this might truly be near my extinguishment.
There was no pain, just that feeling of lightness.
I had no fear nor panic; just a soft feeling of possible finality.
I slowly arose from bed and poured a cup of Sake,
Returned to my restful repose, and felt more normal.
I guess I shall survive this wonderment towards the ultimate end.
Well, perhaps this was merely a rehearsal of what it might be like.
I have never panicked concerning my possible death,
This being a gentle preamble to that which is inevitably on its way.

Pugnacious News opus 596

Have you ever noticed on news broadcasts with highlights only,
And in addition, when a USA war is raging somewhere,
That there are two items reported together--
The first is obviously the war
And the second are the 'important' sports results!
The first is the real-life dangerous pugnacity, where lives are at risk,
And the second is ritual pugnacity, where lives possibly might be at risk.
I thus guess for humans needing vital information,
These two subjects will always be at the top of the list.

A Note to Harriet opus 603

From our core values, we create our purpose.
Has one's life been sometimes a empty hole of basic meaninglessness?
Are you concerned about things around you which may cause spiritual unease?
With a drive of life, difficult tasks become fearless and almost effortless.
Be with fellow humans who know more than you,
And always know, when things are too much to realistically bear,
Modify the effort, but do not necessarily give up.
Activity, no matter how small, maintains our will to live
And basically keeps us alive, so that our purpose remains alive.

Another Dream Remembered opus 604

Once again, I came out of a vivid dream, most of which I recounted:
I was in a grassy suburb with nearby buildings.
She--an Indian Asian looking lovely woman--just appeared.
We walked closely and talked together. I felt wanted and at ease.
Until then, I explained, why I had not held her hand--
I wanted to be sure, before exhibiting such in public.
I gently kissed her neck and felt her soft arm.
Then, she left to do something--I know not what.
I walked up and down over grassy hills nearby.
She did not return.

As I woke, I realized the 'She' was Seta, my first high school love.
Upon further thought,
Because of the smaller nose than that of Seta's (she was Armenian),
This must have also been Nora, my late wife.
Both of these women have been indelible,
But have, indeed, forever left my life.

The Weight of Two X Chromosomes opus 605

Could there truly be a benevolent, all-knowing deity creator?
Just compare the relative ease with which men (X/Y) 'sail' through life,
While women (X/X), the absolute necessity for the continuation of human life,
Must go through such relative torment to be bearers of that life.
Large breasts--unlike any other ape-- are permanently formed--
A possible platform for cancer.
Then menstruation, continually forming 'ripe' eggs
(But inconveniently in between the bleeding periods),
Until one is finally nabbed by a sperm to create an offspring.
Birth, often very difficult or deadly,--
And then several years of producing milk to feed such offspring--
Sometimes too much with accompanying pain and other times, paucity.
Then the female is discarded from reproductive abilities,
Through the process of menopause--far sooner in life than her male counterpart.
What makes this all happen,
Is that women are endowed with a longing for an offspring--a child.
And thus, such longing, masks the clear thinking,
Concerning all the trials she must go through (sometimes alone),
Allowing human kind to reproduce and multiply for the benefit of the species.

Recognition of the Skewed Nose opus 609

Being a biologist, I often look at the morphology of humans,
As well as that of fellow creatures.
I am fascinated, for instance, as to how a female newscaster might be chosen--
Certainly the ability to speak and relate the news,
But also, assuredly, from an attractive appearance.
I have a little game, 'nosing in' on the orientation of the other's 'nose-appearance'.
I often see a very attractive newscaster with a quite offset nose position.
Is such a morphology simply overlooked or not even contemplated upon?
For me, this might be one of the important criteria to contemplate.
There are many causes of nose orientation--I am considering those of minor causes.
The type of crooked nose or deviated septum occurs when the septum leans to one side.
About 80% of humans have some degree of deviated septum!
Causes might be with issues of the bones, cartilage, or other tissues in the nose.
In addition, causes might also be from birth irregularities, injury, or results from surgery.
But, most often, a crooked nose is the result of a deviated septum.
By homing in on this feature, I can actually contemplate
One more interesting feature of the human aspect.

An Interview Using the 'Wobbly Chair Test' opus 611

Interviewers seeking good employees may well use the 'Wobbly Chair Test'.
It entails two chairs; one set a little aside which is totally normal.
The interviewee's primary chair by the interviewer has one leg cut a bit short.
This enables the latter chair to not sit straight and to wobble.
The test is, will the interviewee notice and remark on the unsteady chair,
Momentarily stop the interview, and ask to exchange chairs;
Or will 'they' (notice the 'singular they' employed here)
Continue to wobble and uncomfortably continue with the procedure?
Of course the interviewer is interested in whether or not
The one interviewed takes initiative in a situation
And notices something that needs improvement.
Of course, if the person interviewed is shy and does not speak up,
The establishment may possibly lose an otherwise potentially good employee.
Presumably, all that depends on the good insight the interviewer may have at that moment.

The Momentum of Speech opus 612

I have been struggling doing business on the phone,
Especially with young women.
Because they talk so fast, it is difficult to follow at times.
The scuttlebutt is that Gen-Zers talk faster than Millenials,
Because of the former being exclusively exposed
To the ever-expanding, all-consuming, social media.
Also, scientists record that greater numbers of women
Are using a growly, creaky, 'annoying' speech pattern now named 'vocal fry'.
But why, in general, are people speaking faster now?
One study implies that listeners find fast-talkers more persuasive.
Slow speakers can be assumed to be less intelligent or competent,
While very fast talkers might be seen as less truthful or less kindhearted.
In a competitive society, people might hurry their words for fear of being interrupted.
A bustling, competitive or clamorous school environment might reinforce rapid speech;
A child or older student learns to speak hastily to be heard.
If we interrupt each other in society, rapid speech becomes a survival skill.

Social dynamics in our high pressured society
May have a great influence on women's speech:
Women are taking a greater role in the workplace,
Competing with men, who some surveys show, talk faster,
So it is natural that young women compete back by also speaking faster.
The other factor, along with this, is that sexes mimic each other
And just like cultural mimicry with an accent,
Speed might also be imitated so that one better fits in with peers.
High pressure workplaces require quick information delivery.
Fear of interruption in that workplace causes a rush to finish thoughts.
And if there is emotional intensity involved,
This might lead to uncontrolled rapid speech.

At any rate in my nearly 84 years listening to others speak,
I definitely notice an increase in speaking velocity,
Especially in young women, who are definitely
Dominating the telephone answering services.
This is not prejudice, but merely an old guy observing his fellows.

Hope is the Enemy of Courage opus 613

At age 19 while attending Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio
A very intellectually stimulating academic institution,
I came across a book, 'Faith of a Heretic',
Written by a Yale Philosophy Professor, Walter Kaufman, in 1959.
The subject included not to hope, but to get in and do it.
My whole life seems to have followed that philosophy.

As a child I wanted to build a treehouse 30 feet high in an oak.
And I did so.
As a 10-year-old, I had a 'nature club' for 'younger' kids!
It went well, considering my tender age.
I wished to continue my father's abandoned large vegetable garden.
And I did so with my little brother.
I wanted to have a large pond for my huge carp and snapping turtles.
And I dug it.
I wanted to earn a PhD at Cornell.
And I earned it!
During my teaching job in Africa, I wanted to learn beekeeping with the aggressive African bee.
And I carefully learned the art.
I wished, back in the US, to start a polyculture educational farm; the Environmental Education Farm Foundation.
And, laboriously, I managed and did so.
I decided I must save California wildlife land and created the Quail Ridge Conservancy (Land Trust).
And it, with lots of effort, manifested itself, eventually becoming part of UC Davis.
I learned of the languishing of the creation of legislation for a California State Grass.
And after four years it was passed.
I worked in Wyoming to protect 7,000 acres of wildlife acreage.
And after 20 years,it was accomplished.
I learned I was a Pict of Scotland and established myself as a stone carver.
Lots of effort and work to do so!
After Nora, my late wife passed, I decided to create and manage a UCD Student Endowment.
And, believe it or not, it is functioning.
I wished then to create a 'Poems and Thoughts' website for my children to remember my life.
And now it consists of 580 plus poems for their, and others' thinking.

What I am saying is that the old philosopher's words were always there for me to manifest;
From childhood to near death, I have attempted to meet the challenge of my passions.
My advice to the next generation is to do such--
Never demur in your true passions and accomplish what you desire and must do. May it be good.

A Story of the American Bullfrog opus 618

American Bullfrogs (Lithobates catesbeianus, used to be Rana sp.)
Were introduced into California in the late 1800's (1896?).
The main thrust was to form a basis for a new food industry!
In addition, thoughts featured the pet industry and recreational purposes.
During the Gold Rush, miners ate up to 80,000 Red-legged frogs (Rana draytonii) a year.
This nearly wiped out that native population of frog,
Thus, the concept for a new food industry in the State.
But hungry miners are not a model to be used for a less hungry general population.
Frog legs were commonly consumed pre-1900 and thousands of pounds
Were even annually harvested and exported throughout the US.
When the demand for frog meat was not realized,
The captive frogs were released into the wild, causing ecological havoc,
By disrupting the delicate balance of California's ecosystems.
Female Bullfrogs lay clutches of up to 20,000 eggs, twice a year.
These frogs consume a wide range of prey, including
Aquatic eggs, insects, fish, birds (including young ducklings) and small mammals,
Some of which are native species, already threatened or endangered.
Bullfrogs are carriers of chytridiomycosis which has devastated amphibians worldwide.
Their presence has led to changes in nutrient cycling and water quality.
Bullfrogs are so adaptable, that it is difficult to manage control.
Just the cost to the State attempting control has been very expensive.
On a positive note, these frogs are now used in research,
Studying developmental biology, physiology, and ecology.
When introducing a non-native species of any kind, one must always be aware
Of the unintended consequences which may result.

(Note: I first looked into this introduced species,
Suspecting that the Calaveras Frog Jumping Contest
May have been the source for this introduction,
But the Contest was just part of the whole phenomenon.)

To a Fellow Human opus 629

Isn't it interesting that
Two of the most intelligent on the planet,
Decided not to communicate,
Leaving a void of thought
And an emptiness of potential human interaction.

Time may show from pure reasoning,
That that is never a good way to go;
Juxtaposed reasoning and thought may yet prevail!

Watching a Wild Turkey Harvest Seed opus 631

While working in my office, the center of my little universe,
A wild turkey was 'grazing' within sight.
It was working on grass seed from a two-foot-high plant.
As I observed, it was plucking seed from the tall grass,
One seed at a time--repeating this over and over,
When, suddenly, it grabbed the stalk in its bill
And pulled upwards, stripping many seeds at once!
This is how I, as a human, gather groups of seed with an upward pull.
I had never before seen this harvesting technique with a turkey.
I was quite thrilled. See how little things in the world get me so excited.

An Elder's Views on Aging, Learned While Living as a Youth, With Men Mentally Crippled from War opus 633

One of my Antioch Co-op Jobs was in the Ozarks of Missouri,
Girdling old oaks to improve the forest with a subclimax of pine.
Every day I went out and 'doubled-axed' my way down each long ridge.
Winter's snows came and went, then Spring and I saw my first wild lizards!

I lodged in a boarding house which catered to several men,
Mentally crippled from WWII and Korea-- all unable to cope in society.
On weekends, I would spend some time with each,
Conversing and interacting as each was able.
I built up friendships and learned something about war's effects on them.
It made a deep impression on me as a twenty-year-old.
So much so, that in graduate school at Cornell,
While the brutal Vietnam War was raging, (1966),
I declared myself a pacifist, registering with the US government.
I was then voted in as President of the Quaker 'Young Friends' organization
And led a protest walk across the US/Canadian Peace Bridge.

Those men in Missouri, expounding their stories and plights,
Have affected me to this day, in the ways I conduct my life's activities.
I shall never forget them--I can still picture the face of each one.

It's All in Your Mind opus 639

Our foods have, for centuries, been brightened with dyes--
Cheeses made more yellow, margarine dyed to better compete with butter.
Alternatively, many are truly concerned about artificially brightening our food.
Caving to pressure, General Mills stopped dying Fruit Loops,
But soon relented back to dyes, resulting from a barrage of complaints.
Humans, and especially we 'Americans', must just ingest colorful food,
Claiming with no actual proof, that colorful food just 'plain tastes better'!
This is another example where things might all just 'be in your mind'.

Yet Another School Shooting opus 640

School shootings are becoming regular affairs.
For a twisted mind, killing children 
Has a similar lustful draw as to that of pornography.
Those in Congress who refuse to vote against guns of any sort,
Do so, simply, for fear of the gun industry
As well as for losing votes from constituents
Who interpret the Second Amendment 
Far from what the original writers would have allowed,
With a State Armory to hold state (not private) weapons.
We are frozen in a tragic, deadly deadlock.

'Daddy' opus 644

My, there he is, sitting in his own egocentric self portrait.
Civil War hat and black shirt, with burning Chicago painted behind him--
One of his many cities, he was as president,
Benevolently to nurture, guide, and care for, as all before him.
'I love the smell of deportation in the morning ...'

I remember we voted in a president; lowering food prices;
And one who would not touch our vital Medicare;
One who aspired to earn a Nobel Peace Prize.
In reality, just what have we unleashed upon ourselves,
And all of the world around us?

Solitary Confinement opus 648

California prisoners protested to eliminate solitary confinement.
This, for a human, is the worst punishment of all.
As in a family where purposeful isolation is employed,
The punishment results in anger and rebellion.
Humans should not be ignored nor isolated.
It results in nothing good.
Try to compromise, understand, and talk things out.
So many family rifts would be lessened to nothing.
An international example is the Palestinians 
Being robbed of their lands and originally isolated in prison camps--
Now, isolated in an open air prison with limited rights,
Along with warring persecution, all in the name of religious history.
Equal treatment would have lessened the problem to nothing.

Relationships opus 660

Hello G,

I have thought about your text.
I am not totally sure about your pondering,
Concerning your inability to respond (to me).
But so, you understand that you might have no concern with me--
On my part I do attempt to keep a 'silent' relationship alive,
By occasionally sending a 'hello' or 'I am still here'.
You should know I lost one wife in a terrible car accident in Africa
And a second from an agonizing cancer death.
In such cases, one always wonders
Whether or not one could have done more or said more.
I guess in my situation now, I just feel I must be sure,
That if separation of some sort occurs, at least the 'other' knows
I was not trying to kill a relationship through silence,
And that I was reaching out, caring for that relationship.
You see, I must psychologically still be assuring myself,
That I could have done or said more.
Thanks, Frank.

(G responded with a compassionate, understanding
explanation, concerning her position and situation.)

Wisdom Out of Africa opus 668

'Out of hatred for the cockroach,
The ants voted for the insecticide--
They all died, including the housefly
That didn't vote!' (African Proverb)

Today, we might say--
To throw the baby
Out with the bathwater.

Quiet Counter Revolution opus 669

The evening is quiet; wishing for a call.
Left several voicemails for a few--
That they might call to break my solitude.
Chores are done--all is still.
Suddenly a ring--it is Richard, my webmaster.
Another Trump AI concoction has come out.
"I need another poem for this idiocy he has concocted."
We chat and plan and it breaks the evening monotony.
Who knows how I may 'poemize' his madness?
Those of us who know better,
Are dismayed at what we have all come to!
Will our democracy survive this usurpation?
These are truly dark times for our Republic.
We are pressed to understand 
What might be the possibilities.

The Monarch opus 671

There has never been a monarch who ruled with manure--
Not verbally nor physically. Until now.
This one has learned to fly a jet,
Which jettisones liquid faeces upon his people--
Not knowing whether or not one of his cabinet is in the crowd!
Or perhaps a 'supporter' or two?
Disgust now reigns in his kingdom.

Does a Building Height Depict Who We Are? opus 672

When high buildings were first able to be,
The church steeple was the most blatantly high.
Then powerful families erected the tallest towers,
Manifesting their political power over the masses;
Followed by our modern times,
When corporations competed for height and capitalistic ego.
I, as a Humanist, am not advocating a return to the past,
But perhaps we all should take a pause
To contemplate where we are and from whence we have come.
Perhaps we need more of a sensible balance
In our pursuit for the meaning towards our honest existence.

To Julia opus 682

You joined my family six years ago,
Pledging enigmatically that you wished only very limited interaction.
Now these years later, I basically do not know who you are--
Your desires, your goals, your concerns, even your philosophy of child rearing!
It has pained me greatly to be so involuntarily distant from you,
Even after many years of gently and, admittedly, not so gently
Ways of breaking through your enigmatic facade,
I remain a stranger to you in my own family.
I fear this will never end, after much trial,
And you and I shall eventually pass on to the next phase of life,
Never having mingled our thoughts in what might have been
Mutual augmentation of our potential joyous selves.

The Visionary opus 686

The visionary is so far ahead,
That he or she is always behind.

Facades opus 688

We are now sadly surrounded with facades of untruth.
Even now, to the point, we must warn our children
To beware of that which appears 'to be too good to be true'.
'Don't take a ride offered by a stranger.'
'Don't be seduced by that handsome, tall, dark man.
Humans almost always seem to wish advantage
Over many of their fellows no matter who.
We are continually, however, under suspicion, in perpetuity
And the truly honest ones will never be trusted.

An Ambivalent Scooter Owner opus 696

My grandson, Rowan, is now an 'older' five.
He has graduated from crawling, to walking, then running,
To his present stage of discovering the wonder of wheels! 
Wheels came into his life vicariously through toy trucks and other play things.
Suddenly, one day, he was presented with a small, three-wheel scooter,
Which he mastered and controlled, especially on his way to school.
Each morning his Dad followed him on his way to the halls of education.
He loved and enjoyed his little scooter, becoming bonded.

Then, I, his grandfather, contemplated something more 'grownup'.
It would have only two wheels, an adjustable handle control and brakes!
Well, it arrived in a big box, left unopened until Rowan's arrival.
While we were munching on burritos, the box, unopened, nearby.
I was explaining a few features about his potential new scooter.
Rowan was hesitant, saying he really liked his little three-wheeler,
And did not really want this upgrade in his life.
One exception became evident when he asked if there were any LED lights.
And no, there are no such upgrades on this model.
Out of the box it came, now being assembled by his Dad.
Gleaming white, large tires, and a fancy brake system.
Rowan viewed it with a little less reluctance,
Not wishing to betray his relationship with his first love.
He stepped onto the platform, handles firmly gripped,
And off he slowly, then more rapidly glided onward,
Left foot powering the sleek vehicle down the drive.
He never looked back, (until he returned),
Beaming with a newly discovered joy.
No ambivalence now, successfully having taken that unknown step,
As we all have done, leaving that familiar past,
Gliding into an exciting new, unthought of, until discovered, new world.

When Do Children Play? opus 700

When I was a child, some 75 plus years ago,
We were sent out to play, with or without lunch,
And were expected to be in before dark (winter)
Or by supper time (summer).
To add to the verbal agreement, my mother rang a large ship's bell, 
To make sure we knew that the hour of return had arrived.
There was no worry nor even a thought
That we children were in any mortal danger.

Today, such unsupervised freedom would never even be contemplated.
Children are walked (driven!) to school each day and then retrieved--
I was perhaps walked to school on my first day of first grade.
With so much concern and fear by today's parents,
Why is it that the same concern does not exist
For their children, when using social media?
It is also a great 'trouble-maker' for children's well being.
Some, even going so far in a troubled way,
To take their own lives because of great distress.
Many of such young ones do not even contemplate going outside
To enjoy and be calmed by the original Nature from which we all evolved!

Seeking One Who Has Gone opus 705

She has been violently taken from us in her school.
So cruel, so uncaring, so unknowing whom it would affect.
Where does one go to find, even a part of her?
Where does one go to witness once again her youthful accomplishments?
Where does one go to partake and inhale her sweet scent?
Of course the room she rested in, and studied in,
And dreamed of what she might eventually become--
Her castle, her music room, her sleeping chamber.
So many youths have been taken from us all,
By mostly young males, restless, confused,
And spiteful of their lack of accomplishment and success.
Are they allowed to slip past, because of a misinterpretation
Of the Second Amendment, originally written 
To no longer be victims of a possible king?
Have we lost the intent after three centuries of ever modified interpretation
Towards the attempt to maintain freedom--whose ever that is.

The Rearranged Tearoom opus 724

As a child, my father frustratingly delayed buying a TV.
I had to go to Woody Kaplin's house to watch Howdy Doody!
It didn't occur to me at such a young age,
How 'organizing' TV was, once in one's life.
This became absolutely clear when I started working in Turkiye.
I often, after teaching, would frequent a tearoom to socialize.
There was no TV in Turkiye when I taught there in 1969.
All the tables and chairs were arranged randomly, as one would expect.
Actually, I never really even contemplated such arrangements.
I completed my teaching job there and moved on.
Many years later, about 2000, my old boss and his wife
Invited me and Nora, my wife, for a Turkish reunion.
We arrived and thoroughly enjoyed visiting old friends and haunts.
One mid-day we went to see a then quiet, old, familiar tearoom.
When I entered, I felt immediately something was strange--even wrong.
All the chairs around the tables were facing one way!
My gaze went in the direction of the chairs and one wall.
What was there, but a television set, sitting quietly on a shelf.
This was new for me in this country and a bit of a shock.
I could feel the loss of visitation, conversation, and gaming,
Feeling the starkness and dominance of this machine.
Coming from 'another world', I could understand,
But was saddened by what I knew was a loss of innocence.
All these devices are taking over the time and minds 
Of both our children and adults.

Surveying a Pond Base opus 733

After my dear mother died, I inherited her house on our farm.
It was smallish, but tidy with a few solar embellishments.
The four huge wooden house rafters extended eight feet outside,
Creating a rustic ambiance.
The roof (and ceiling!) and beams were absolutely horizontal.
As well, the tiny main porch was unimpressive with a concrete flooring.
This was all nice, until we had our first severe rains--
The badly sealed flat beams guided water inside to leak in the rooms.
The porch guided water back to the inner house wall,
Because some idiot had not checked the slope before pouring concrete!

Each time I cope with these 'flat' problems,
I am reminded of my fish pond constructions and surveying.
I created ponds from deserted quarry mining,
Shaping, molding and carefully building each pond, 1/2 to 2 acres.
Unlike the builders of my mother's house,
I carefully surveyed the floor of each pond,
Allowing not less than a three inch drop,
From the furthest end, to the opposite drain pipe area.
I built the ponds long before my house inheritance,
But now, with each rainy California winter, as the house has its minor floods,
I recall the diligence I mustered to slope my ponds just right,
And continually wonder why the builders of a house for humans,
Couldn't have been as careful as I, constructing a home for plain old fish!

The Good Book--Book of Wisdom opus 734

This is my second try at the Good Book,
The modern secular bible with a Humanistic approach.
I have had this book sitting near me for several years.
I liked the title, but it took forever to open it.
Now that I have, I am quietly overjoyed.
Speaking of wisdom, as a boy and now as a man,
I was always disturbed by, especially young men,
Who declared that they 'hated school'.
I occasionally, even now, meet grown men saying the same.
School for me was the place 'to find out'.
I have often said to my students, that especially in higher education,
We here, accrue and organize facts and knowledge
In order to add to possible human wisdom.
Rejecting school to me was rejecting exercise for the mind,
As rejecting 'phys ed', as many also did,
Was rejecting the vital need for exercise for the body.
Without these things, we can experience obesity and blank minds.
This book has much to say and I give you a touch now
With Chapter I, accompanied by a few verses,
Simple in the beginning, and waxing with more complexity: 
(Each Chapter of Wisdom is echoingly finalized with this verse 21.)

1.   Give your ears to hear what is said
      and your heart to know what is meant.
2.   Let what is wise rest in the casket of
      your mind, to be the key to your heart.
3.   He whose works exceed his wisdom,
      his wisdom will endure.
4.   But he whose wisdom exceeds his works,
      his wisdom will not endure.
5.   The mighty man is he who
      conquers himself.
6.   The rich man is he who is satisfied
      with what he has.
7.   The honorable man is he who honors others.
8.   But the wise man is he who learns 
      from all men.

21. The question to be asked at the end
      of each day is, 'How long will you
      delay to be wise?'

At the conclusion of perusing (here meaning 
'To read over attentively') the Book of Wisdom,
I understand more in depth the difference
Between knowledge and wisdom.
So now in these trying and difficult times--
'It is time for all of us to do the good that is needed.'  

Will K Cars be Our New Coffins? opus 742

Having returned from Asia, Trump declared his love for the tiny, economical K car.
Prominent in Japan, would these tiny cars fit into this country's traffic?
Offsetting economics, they are small and slow;
Placed into a rushed society, having many accidents.
A huge trailer-truck attempting to slow suddenly behind a smaller, slower car,
Could most likely result in a catastrophe of a crushed car with its driver.
Our high-speed freeways might introduce a new category of death.
With such decisions, we must consider the adage of water and oil.

The Depression of an Elder opus 744

After a longer interval than usual, as we spoke together,
Marianne, my Swiss German speaker somehow came up with 'Trost'.
Her children were off to ski in Switzerland
And she was depressed not to be there with them.
At 83, she was basically unable to travel so far.
I attempted to comfort her as best I might.
"Your children--you have raised and nurtured them,
And now they are on their own, for better or worse."
"You were the bow and they, the arrows, 
And they are discovering their new goals and targets."
"The bow, by definition, remains at the starting place,"
So the word 'Trost' came up to her, 
But she could not remember its definition.
Together, we derived the meaning and found it most appropriate,
In that she longed for solace, comfort, or 'Trost'.
As we age, we are not able to follow so well.
We are slow and delay things.
Our limbs are weaker and less steady for holding upright.
We do not ask, but wish for 'Trost' from somewhere.
The young are full of themselves and do not understand.
The baby cries and wordlessly attempts to reach out.
The elder cries out, but the young ones continue,
Not hearing nor understanding the human directly beside them.

The Softness of the German 'Trost' opus 745

I was chatting one evening on the phone with Marianne,
A Swiss-German speaker; her mother tongue.
Somehow the word 'Trost' came up and 
She could not remember its English meaning.
After some discussion, we sussed out its meaning.

COMFORT -- general relief from distress.
CONSOLATION -- for something that alleviates.
SOLACE -- a formal poetic term, 
                   finding peace in religion, nature, or art.

When spoken, this word is soft in its feeling and sound.
There are those who claim German to be harsh--
Not true and if spoken from the heart as if to a lover,
Elicits passion, and depth, and solace to the listener.
This is a word to be spoken by any and many
And if correctly understood, would bring peace 
As well as compassion for the world.

Does This, My Dream, Reflect the State of the Present World? opus 751

I was parking my white Ford van in which I travelled,
At a remote area by a large lake to explore.
I started hiking and soon was in an oak forest,
But destroyed in swaths with the harvesting 
Of surface sandstone boulders.
As I explored in the moonlight, I was hot, so unclad myself,
And left my clothing in a pile to which I would return.
I had left my car keys, driver's license, and credit cards.
I explored farther in the forest areas, and then the ruined surface areas,
Which had torn-open deep, red, rich soils open to the sun.
I tried to return to my clothing, but they were not there!
I searched farther and farther away, but to no avail.
I passed small shacks, some tumbled down and others inhabited.
I passed workers who were not outgoing, to help me.
I had somehow gotten onto a lower, lakeside road,
Whereas I had formerly been traversing a higher, middle-level road.
I just could not find my vital keys, enabling me to leave.
I woke at 0640 Hours and for a transition-moment,
I felt I was coming out of the 'real world' and into another.
I lay there confused and attempted to gather my thoughts.

Was the large lake a symbol of Lake Berryessa around which
I had worked so long to preserve its neighboring habitat?
Was the open red soil a reminder of the highway of my youth,
That caused such destruction where we fished as children.
That my distraught and tears caused the family to go home?
Were the silent workers symbolic of how divided our world is?
Were the shacks symbols of our world poverty,
As well as depictions of all the ancient ruins I had witnessed?
Was I lost, mimicking the mass of homeless people around the world,
Caused by needless war, and territorial gain and control?  
Were the loss of my keys and my crying out, demonstrating my lack of ability
To help solve the surrounding enigmas that stubbornly manifest?
I dream in color, which makes it all the more realistic!

Dangers of Following an Undesirable Leader opus 752

The leader of a nation who is gentle but strong,
Is a leader with the most citizens who are gentle and considerate.
The leader of a nation who is angry and vindictive,
Is a leader with many angry citizens who care little for each other.
Voters of a nation, must always consider and judge
A potential leader's personality and character, among key categories,
So they are not poisoned by negative leadership.

Five-Year-Old MN Child Used to Lure Parent opus 757

So the story goes and reports expound,
Federal immigration agents used a five-year-old boy 
Liam Conejo Ramos, as 'bait', to lure a family member
Out of their home during an arrest in Columbia Heights, Minnesota.
The ICE agents approached Liam and his father
In their driveway, upon returning from preschool.
By one account, the child was used to lure out his mother.
The father told the mother not to open the door.
The scared mother thus did not take custody and is blamed.
Both the child and the father were transported for detention in Texas.
This sad story contains several conflicting claims.

However, as a biologist, I am reminded of other such historical incidents.
During the whaling period of our country and the world,
Whalers would use a similar tactic on another mammal.
They would harpoon the calf and wait for the mother
To get within range to easily kill her as well.
Female and often male mammals defend their young,
And predators in the know will use this behavior,
Starting with a tidbit and ending up with a complete meal.
It appears that both humans and cetaceans react similarly,
Much to the potential detriment of both generations.
Such, as judged by humans, is one of the cruelties
In the struggle for survival and political advantage.