50

living past fifty

the waves sound differently

children play nearby

idle time

the house is empty

all the children are outside

where the hell is Anne?

Liam

sitting still is hard

playing now with your crayons

world is color blind

One small step

...40 years on, and nothing but a shrug.Neil Armstrong has kept his dignity, while Aldrin will apparantly sell anything to anyone at anytime on an infomercial[did they pick the correct guy to go out first or what?} The general publics indifference is frightening. Here was a geunine moment to celebrate the good things of this country,before the bastards fully took control.And the celebrations were non-existent. How not to celebrate the real mission accomplished to get men on the moon and back safely in the decade of the 1960's.I have used the word celebrate too often here. It was a moment of magnificence,literally trancendental, and now apparantly forgotten. Shame on us

finger pointing

the moons reflection

no need to stare at finger

mission accomplished

Met fan gate d haiku

Finished now
summer days are longer
Mister Met sighing

S&P

Sophie and Pescha

born this day two years ago

smiles everywhere

waste

clouds ephemeral

waste of time people tell me

television on

mets haiku

Jerry Manuel

optimism waning

rain without a cloud

stones and sound

Gratitude:

for my wifes skin soft and magical

the sound of the word daddy

uttered by one of our children

for fireflies,nasty and beautiful

the shoreline,the smell of bread

the taste of tea,of roses

hyacinths and pine needles

for the soup of poems

the luscious music

of freedom

for freedom

the symphony of the city

strange and wonder-filled

the smell of citrus fruit

and onions and peppers

a well worn chair

the perfect weight of a fountain pen

for blossoms all

apple cherry magnolia

almond

for newspapers and bookstores

the smell of the shoemakers shop

the way my older neighbors dog walks with her

for baloons and bright colors

neon tie dyed

anything but pale

limpid sameness

for Van gogh sun and fields

and Pollock controlling

chaos of colors

briefly

wind through leaves

the smell of rain

for clouds

in all variety

and lazily

happily

watching them

on my back on a summer afternoon

for my wifes sighs

rain while listening to Charlie parker

the buildings encroach

the pier juts out at lands end

duck school all swim by

summer

Ah, summer. The laziest, most enjoyable time of the year.The sun made a cameo here for a few days, thereby establishing that it was,indeed, summer.The piers, the parks, the beach,ah,to simply walk the dog, sit on a park bench reading the great Du Fu or Basho is one of the great pleasures of life.

rain

The Northeast has been inundated with rain, i mean serious good old country rain.The sun has been rare,the days not very hot though very humid.The last time I remember this happening was 1988, then 45 straight days of 80+ temps, and high humidity.45 straight days...Being a Met fan is a particular form of cruelty in New York.It's like being the not as good looking near do well sibling.This has been another season of excruciating defeats, injuries, and fan ennui.There was a time when Met fans were acknowledged to be among the sharpest,most intelligent fans.This has past I think.Mostly staid crowds,who are content to cheer mightily when the Yengeez play at Bailout Field,otherwise, the din is a murmer.One of the concessionaires remarked on this to me"You know, if this game was up at Yankee stadium, they would be going nuts.Here, they're talking on their cell phones.What 's up?" I told him I had no idea,though I am starting to wonder if baseball itself is lost on a video as opposed to literary epoch. Could be, things change.