fantastic mechanism for time travel
by freezing the door into summer
then finding and taking credit for
some future invention
it was a Heinlein maneuver
incestuous flashback of all you zombies
built on ploys of a high school boy
for writers interested in prophesy
bet your Dick on breakfast at twilight
it was a Heinlein maneuver
warn us what the end would be like
and bizarre human problems encountered
caused by time distortions
its relativistic dilation for the stars
it was a Heinlein maneuver
the curved world-line Einstein long resisted
of sending telephone signals down the line
to measure the echo of time
by the bootstraps of philosophical desperation
it was a Heinlein maneuver
like laws of logic preventing angle trisections
or squaring Farnham Freehold's family circles
he blasted him future-ward by nuclear direct hit
with popular sexual loops in time
it was a Heinlein maneuver
for the farthest paradox in the zombie zoo
for a science fiction porn-star fan's view
sex with one's mother back in the future
for strangers in a strange land
it was a Heinlein maneuver
Sept. 24, 2016
love a woman who reads not your poems
for poetry is only what she dreams in sleep
let the storm crash and pages be dampened
she hears not a word from you what happened
but punctuates your life with commas and dashes
exclamation marks and ending periods
picking up with you in another verse
pick it apart, it can become worse
love a woman who forgoes reading blogs
with a ringside seat to your circus
she knows your clowns and acrobatics
your frowns and antibiotics
drinks with you the wine of celebration
puts puzzle pieces perfectly juxtaposed
with practical solutions right under your nose
with you in her heart, the journal stays closed
love not a woman for novel ideas
translucent history over the years
with thunderclap downpours reeling you in
and forgiven flashbacks of forgotten times
she passes the chapters that ended in blaze
the pot-boiling heroines that led you astray
untitled, unnumbered, her masterpiece, you
and counts not the volumes binding you two
love only a woman who messages back
with instant cartoons of emotion
wordlessly wandering smiles away
a speechless type of keyboard
void of critique or double entendre
only bedtime stories of unwritten genre
dreary-eyed in an unconscious stream
love a woman who reads your dreams
Sept. 17, 2016
dragonflies hover like mad drones,
searching for terrorist mosquitoes
over a tall, stiff, lawn of rice paddies,
large enough for a field of dreams.
that is what it seems to be,
from a wooden kiosk off the Tan-Zih path,
where a new vista detoxifies me,
from civilization's wrath.
unseen roosters greet the day,
like scooters in the hurried fray.
in free range play they see a light,
a shaft from heaven reaching down
to someone's dinner plate with
rice that swayed in Tan-Zih breeze,
landscaping our viewpoints,
with only us to please.
congressional poets mincing words
at an Am-way convention, expenses-paid.
excitement from the bleacher seat,
one and all the chairman greets.
even winners pay a price,
that losers lost poetically,
from angles they cannot strangle,
recited refreshingly.
bicyclists peddle the lengthy path,
passing time smiling, retired, reaching
tanks and train tracks, jet airplanes,
as alone i sit gazing through the distance,
writing yesterdays of tomorrows as
tail gunners shoot, give me flack.
i prefer facing nature that fills my eyes,
ride further, why, in the end doubling back.
the American Eagle has landed,
this spacey traveler disembarking,
a testament to resiliency and professionalism,
but even that cannot undo poor management,
their only prophet, the bottom line
that does not recognize alien talent
over the hill and through the woods,
new vistas on his palette
tarry not home before the storm.
finish this verse, get back on the bike.
ride rejuvenated through green fields,
palm trees bent and swayed.
stay not long in stranded days,
but ride along her river bed,
feel me coming back instead,
before this poet is famously dead.
Sept. 2, 2016
