Corona Senryu V

Alone, overweight:
computer yoga class fails
to quell her hunger.

Corona Haiku IX

Social distancing:
The misanthrope, stepping out,
Feels free in the streets.

Corona Haiku VIII

Hell is The Others.
Coughs heard at the house party -
Sartre's words ring true.

Hunger

When we were young upon the earth,
We did not understand the stars –
So many eyes of the gods upon us.

We did not understand the thunder and rain –

So many gods howling their disdain.

But we understood hunger.

And pain.

We were bound together

To seek our sustenance.
So over hills and plains we ranged.

In the time since,

Not much has changed.
Spears gave way to guns.
Stones gave way to mortgages.
Shopping replaced the hunt,
With prey replaced by wages.

Locked together in a barrel bobbing out to sea,

We don’t know if there is food for you or me.
We stare at the foul and fruit upon the table
And ask, “From what ranch, garden, or stable?”

Fish as alien as the stars,

Beef mysterious as the rain,
Sweets that startle as the clap of thunder –
Our ignorance remains.

Independence: A Meditation

We gained our independence from the faraway king,
Only to grow dependent on this new land of dark forests
And mysterious savages.

We gained independence from the wild frontier,
And the fetters of an early death,
Only to grow dependent on television, automobiles, airplanes,
Computers, and other machines of convenience.

We gained independence from God,
Only to grow dependent upon The Next Big Truth.

The myths we celebrate are not our fate;
Independence is merely a date on a calendar,
A folk tale wandered far
From the stare of our impassive future.

America, like Janus, has two faces:
Independence looks to the past;
Dependence looks to the future.

Empires have come and empires have gone.
And after the deeds of history are done
Only the ruins remain and the myths are remembered.

We have too many emails to write,
Too many cupcakes to bite,
Too many flavors to try,
Too many handbags to buy,
Too many bills left to pay,
Or rushed appointments to stay,
Too many miles left to travel,
Or business deals will unravel.

Too many machines of convenience
To remember the birthdays.

Happy Birthday, America!
And as we celebrate your myths,
Perhaps new gods will be born, and walk the land,
Out of the mists, from sea to shining sea,
A new version of the Trinity,
Of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
Of Independence, Dependence,
And Interdependence.

And, America, the boon I wish for you the most:
The vision to see as clear as the moon;
Into the mirror of the Next Big Truth -
That you have become the faraway king,
That we are all gone much too soon,
And that kindness is the thing,
Through which empires must pass
For their greatness to last.

Descartes Dreams

I have learned
In my 400 years
The truth of what many do fear –
That we all breathe alone.

Reality is undeniably
Individual.

For no one can dream your dreams.
No one can feel your fear,
Or your wounded heart,
Or see through your eyes
The light in the skies
On your last fine day.

And yet I have seen
In my 400 years
A truth proud men won’t hear –
That we cannot live alone.

Human life is, quite reliably,
Tribal.

For a child needs his parents in stages.
Industry fails without wages.
And empires come and go
Only through armies of men
That kings may need though never know.

Now, I look on in sadness
At a history spawned by a madness
That ever I dared to conceive:
I think therefore I am,
Failing in truth to perceive
That the mind needs the help
Of the hand
Of the tender mother.

She showed me the simplest truth:
That we all, every day, need each other.