That was me,

the one they show in the video

falling at Normandy

right into the surf.

Each time you see it,

You wonder.

Whoes son was that?
Whoes father, brother?

And we go by it.

A portrait of death.

I can’t bring him back

I can make breath

fill him again.

That portrait

is the door hanger

at the death gate.

Here it here,

ring and enter

where faces end,

where humor ceases

the blest leave

And belief?

Well, we could hope

make a wager

no matter how meager

that he would have some share,

Who knows? Who knows?

But that photo war ghost

plays over and over,

the waves washing the body

the gate and the door

living among ruins.

27 June 09

When I walked this morning,

you slept.

I brushed wild flower skirts

played with their hair-

greeting the morning sky,


You pulled the covers closer.


I watched the busy bees

sweep the golden tops

looking for treasure,


Cheering them onward

snapping photos,


You rolled over again.


I felt the soft earth,

buzz of the mosquitos

looking for a quick drink


Walking slowly.

When I returned

smiling,  relaxed,

You didn’t know I was gone.


27 June 09

I don’t understand it.
Those tolerant aren’t
Continuing to attack
continuing hate
they blame others for.


And those wishing life?
Wish it for every thing
except newborns
(They don’t count)

What phase is this?
Will I awake on the
non-digital side?
See the slowing clock
light slowly turning red,
and wonder why
the edge of the universe
is so close
all along.

Maybe I’ll see it,
maybe that non-digital
is filtered different
and life really counts-
all life.

20 June 09

My hands are in the garden,
waking flowers and yards
of old rotted leaves
left over
for bugs
to hide.

Some are eyelash soft
darting away in a hurry
others simply blink their eyes
and look at me-

no coffee?
what’s the rush.

But regardless,
I’m waking
and tipping the coffins
of deceased plants
pulling their little bodies out
and dropping in my morgue bag

their last resting place
my trash.

What ever secret they knew
is gone now,
what ever whimper of sadness
their leaves might know
how water made them laugh
and wind whipped their children
loose to fly-

yes, it’s vague and strange
mixing this soil with
the sudden red blood
from my hand.

3 May 09

After dad died,
I opened it-
that rusty red lid
with the tools screaming for attention,

The ones dad yelled about
leaving out.

Yes, the same.

they know his hand
the way he held hammer’s head
and struck,
every curse for the blow
to tender thumb.

they heard them all.
The pliers tightened it jaws
and the level bubbled with joy.

Except it was me.

I kept them, yes,
in the garage,
next to the others.

They got to know them.
those smells and dry air.

And occasionally
I used them,

till my hands felt
the pressure,
same pain.

but they were never
never mine.

3 May 09

月の霧 彼女の露出した体のまわりのカーテンを通したスリップ。

Those natural numbers seem lonely
sitting there counting upward
but never irregularly
or like a prime-
One number
can’t divide
except itself

I’m prime and natural
irregular and rational-
sometimes not.

But wanting to count
I’m chasing those numbers
looking for equations
that equal peace.

Passing Venus,
I’m checking the moon,
covering herself,
flashing her eyes

as her mares slip by
slipping, covering

but only for a moment
just that moment
when light flutters
into darkness

and voices slip
down to gutterized

So, I’m staring
at you.

On Values:

I taught a course on Safety Culture last year for a grad school course. One of the things I learned was that Values are built from our beliefs. Therefore, as our beliefs change so our values. The model for behavior looks like:


So, to change behaviors, we don’t target the attitudes- that makes a ’submarine’ behavior ie, they behave the way we want while we watch. But a true change in behavior occurs when learning takes place and learning when the values and beliefs change. Therefore, we ask questions about values and beliefs, we learn to help people understand those and the behaviors change as a result. Does that make sense?

In the field of safety, we learn to teach the value/belief so that the behavior changes. In Christianity, we do the same. So, the value: People matter to God is a Belief, the value is People are important, the attitude is love/care toward people, the behavior is the caring.