GOLDEN ANNIVERSARIES
It began in January,
JFK and Jacqueline, America’s fling
with royalty,
the glam of Camelot.
It ended, December thirty one.
Do you remember
where you were in 1961?
THINGS LAST
Benedict’s monks,
engaged communities
engaging communities for fifteen centuries,
addressed 1961 and beyond
with a Marcel Breuer masterpiece in a Minnesota woods.
Bells in a banner and concrete masonry
anchor a monastery
with a stained glass wall
through which St. John’s Abbey
has brightened fifty years of contemporaries.
FOR AWHILE
From a few active married years five decades ago
little remains of use today, or to endow.
Memory shards play hide-and-seek
in the sun and shade of the leaves
creating effects which neither travel well nor make much noise.
A few pictures and artifacts saved,
and a grave.
The gold, left above,
props open a door
letting in . . . new love
and out . . . me, to grow.
SOMEWHERE.
The most beautiful car ever made
in the eyes of Enzo
Ferrari.
From ‘61 to ’75 the Jaguar E-Type
charmed MOMA, conquered racing venues,
and graced avenues worldwide.
Now enthusiasts keep the tradition alive:
sleek, cat-curvy, stunning machines
maintained now for show
and fair weather drives .
DRK
12/6/14
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
DOWN ON THE FARM
DOWN ON THE FARM
we
grow
capital gains
market value
and alligator back snapping turtles
cultivate
ordinary income
indigo snakes
and gopher tortoises
promote
cropland leasing
and hunting rights
monitor
operating expenses
land surveys
and acreage estimates
lobby for
conservation legislation
while following the latest
easements
and tax credit situations
use best practices
to steward
hill crop trees
wetland trees
native and endangered species
and we grow
DRK
9/13/11
we
grow
capital gains
market value
and alligator back snapping turtles
cultivate
ordinary income
indigo snakes
and gopher tortoises
promote
cropland leasing
and hunting rights
monitor
operating expenses
land surveys
and acreage estimates
lobby for
conservation legislation
while following the latest
easements
and tax credit situations
use best practices
to steward
hill crop trees
wetland trees
native and endangered species
and we grow
DRK
9/13/11
MEETING MANHATTAN
MEETING MANHATTAN
Met Helmwige backstage,
live at the Met.
Our youth,
wrapped in iPod tech
seemed somehow engaged
by the 19th century.
Met Sieglinde at Max Brenners
humming pop songs from the ‘80s.
Same youth,
rapt in chocolate,
could not connect
with the twentieth.
Later met Wagner
live in HD.
Cinema close-ups disturbed
with spit and drool detail.
Met Cathy’s chocolates.
Mothers’ Day
at 69th and Madison.
An Italian mailing candy
interrupted our sampling.
Met no one at Le Charlot,
French lunch al fresco.
Glass walls, open; customers, insular,
not here for the atmosphere.
Eye contact scorned.
Waited at the Chelsea
but Dylan Thomas and Thomas Wolfe were no-shows.
Instead, lunched Greek at Nisos.
That man passing by on the street,
why is he acknowledging me?
DRK
8/22/11
Met Helmwige backstage,
live at the Met.
Our youth,
wrapped in iPod tech
seemed somehow engaged
by the 19th century.
Met Sieglinde at Max Brenners
humming pop songs from the ‘80s.
Same youth,
rapt in chocolate,
could not connect
with the twentieth.
Later met Wagner
live in HD.
Cinema close-ups disturbed
with spit and drool detail.
Met Cathy’s chocolates.
Mothers’ Day
at 69th and Madison.
An Italian mailing candy
interrupted our sampling.
Met no one at Le Charlot,
French lunch al fresco.
Glass walls, open; customers, insular,
not here for the atmosphere.
Eye contact scorned.
Waited at the Chelsea
but Dylan Thomas and Thomas Wolfe were no-shows.
Instead, lunched Greek at Nisos.
That man passing by on the street,
why is he acknowledging me?
DRK
8/22/11
RALLY TO THE SEA
RALLY TO THE SEA
Left the starting gate at noon.
Called back by the starter
on our way out of town --
attempting travel without a camera.
Infraction remedied,
start two was clean.
First order, head for the border
and easy going through Ohio
until sleet greeted us
near
Checkpoint One,
West Virginia’s foothills.
Family rally, day one -- no glory.
Point tallies showed penalties
for late arrival --
Restaurants and pools, closed.
Kids needing exercise had to do supper,
takeout, late.
Day two,
late start warning.
Veered right
on 77 bearing south.
Appalachia’s scenic views
sent us through
the Blue Ridge Mountains,
Virginia and North Carolina.
Tamarack Tourist Center, underrated;
scenic West Virginia encapsulated.
Down the other side
spring emerged
and served
redbuds, wisteria and daffodils
with the warm gentle
coastal lowland air at
Checkpoint Two,
Orangeburg, South Carolina.
Again, late penalties
at check-in.
Hannah and Alyssa,
heroically patient
with travel confinement
and unmet
promises of vacation play,
were rewarded finally
at
Checkpoint Three,
a short dogwood drive down 95
to our embarkation eve
at Cocoa Beach.
Motel Three, not Western’s Best,
but arrived on time
to get ocean wet
and do a poolside
snorkel test.
Morning,
Checkpoint Four,
Port Canaveral and
The Monarch of the Sea.
Again, fined --
eager early,
long slow lines.
First, the rig-a-ma-roll --
parking, passports and luggage tags, health forms, security scans and passes.
Then a few gangplank steps
to a welcome aboard lunch,
search for rooms and initial explore.
Late afternoon, setting sail, arms on a rail,
watching
pelicans dive,
the port and anxieties drift away
with the sea change in our lives.
From the Viking Lounge
up top
a relaxed overview of the sail away party
live music
and buckets of beer.
The young,
presumably soon
on their way up,
were now content
with their first spring break
chance to dance.
Later, traffic delays
on our way
to
Checkpoint Five,
Coco Cay.
Overworked equipment and crew
created a long tender line
snaking through
ship stairwells and decks
awaiting boats to a Bahamian tenderloin --
beached bodies uncovered and oiled.
Alyssa’s eyes -- we knew them as blue --
now showed something new --
the first to see a Bahama Iguana,
she had a knack for
seeing complex venues.
We learned to follow her everywhere.
Rules about fins, vests and safety
led to false starts getting snorkel-ready.
But the glorious sun
made waiting part of the fun.
Beach rocks raised more concern.
Footwear advised,
but our young snorkelers never touched down,
snorkeling to a shipwreck.
Outa sight!
But not out of mind.
It made wrecks of Meme and me.
Hannah, an adept swimmer, now finned,
was halfway to Nassau before we could say
“buddy system.”
Lunch was an outdoor cruise line food buffet.
Then on to an off shore park for water play.
Slides, climbers, rockers and jumpers --
ballooned giants, large muscle exercisers,
exhaustion and fun.
Then a return tender trip to the ship
and an overnight cruise
to
Checkpoint Six,
Nassau.
Morning light showed us docked
five ships abreast.
One, The Majesty of the Sea,
provided a breakfast show,
rotated in the harbor
and backed in next door.
Evening entertainment continued
when we waved it back to sea --
with The Norwegian Gem,
and The Carnival Fantasy.
We chose to see Nassau
touring to Rainbow Reef,
there to snorkel over coral
and colorful fish.
On the trip out, chatted with a Georgia girl.
She had just received a birthday gift chicken hatching kit.
I couldn’t quite picture that
but it seemed like a good Gainesville fit.
Anticipated snorkeling “for real”,
like you see on TV,
but this would not be
Jacques Cousteau.
One hundred spring breakers bobbed in the water
a mile or two from Nassau’s shore
-- with other tour boaters and bobbers.
Meme took our pictures
when she could sort us out.
There were colorful underwater
views of flora and fauna
and while we didn’t see Nemo
Hannah did see an anemone.
On the way back through the bay
more scenic views,
celebrity houses,
Tiger’s, Oprah’s and M. J.’s on display.
A sunny travel day at sea
eased us back toward reality.
Here’s what you do if you’re ten
on a ship with a rock climb.
Send grandma to get her camera.
Reach high with your arms
the higher the better.
For a challenge go up on all blues.
Continue all day.
Unfortunately the wall became too popular.
Older than ten,
my rewards were found
at the coffee bar -- conversing
with a couple from Ireland
whose wee baby
was visiting grandmother
from Kissimmee.
Some of the things you and I missed . . .
a men’s belly flop contest, adult ping pong, last chance karaoke,TV tune trivia,
black jack, win-a-cruise Bahama bingo, and the world’s sexiest man competition.
Not my idea of heaven.
Next stop,
Checkpoint Seven,
Return to port.
The finish line? States away.
Trip back strategy,
race, don’t rally.
Replace “Arrive on time”
with
“Arrive home early.”
The kids’ verdict:
They would have liked it better
had we brought the whole family,
especially their dog, Rabi.
And a larger car would have allowed
shopping for baubles
larger than thimbles.
DRK
4/1/11 -- 4/9/11
8/1/11
Left the starting gate at noon.
Called back by the starter
on our way out of town --
attempting travel without a camera.
Infraction remedied,
start two was clean.
First order, head for the border
and easy going through Ohio
until sleet greeted us
near
Checkpoint One,
West Virginia’s foothills.
Family rally, day one -- no glory.
Point tallies showed penalties
for late arrival --
Restaurants and pools, closed.
Kids needing exercise had to do supper,
takeout, late.
Day two,
late start warning.
Veered right
on 77 bearing south.
Appalachia’s scenic views
sent us through
the Blue Ridge Mountains,
Virginia and North Carolina.
Tamarack Tourist Center, underrated;
scenic West Virginia encapsulated.
Down the other side
spring emerged
and served
redbuds, wisteria and daffodils
with the warm gentle
coastal lowland air at
Checkpoint Two,
Orangeburg, South Carolina.
Again, late penalties
at check-in.
Hannah and Alyssa,
heroically patient
with travel confinement
and unmet
promises of vacation play,
were rewarded finally
at
Checkpoint Three,
a short dogwood drive down 95
to our embarkation eve
at Cocoa Beach.
Motel Three, not Western’s Best,
but arrived on time
to get ocean wet
and do a poolside
snorkel test.
Morning,
Checkpoint Four,
Port Canaveral and
The Monarch of the Sea.
Again, fined --
eager early,
long slow lines.
First, the rig-a-ma-roll --
parking, passports and luggage tags, health forms, security scans and passes.
Then a few gangplank steps
to a welcome aboard lunch,
search for rooms and initial explore.
Late afternoon, setting sail, arms on a rail,
watching
pelicans dive,
the port and anxieties drift away
with the sea change in our lives.
From the Viking Lounge
up top
a relaxed overview of the sail away party
live music
and buckets of beer.
The young,
presumably soon
on their way up,
were now content
with their first spring break
chance to dance.
Later, traffic delays
on our way
to
Checkpoint Five,
Coco Cay.
Overworked equipment and crew
created a long tender line
snaking through
ship stairwells and decks
awaiting boats to a Bahamian tenderloin --
beached bodies uncovered and oiled.
Alyssa’s eyes -- we knew them as blue --
now showed something new --
the first to see a Bahama Iguana,
she had a knack for
seeing complex venues.
We learned to follow her everywhere.
Rules about fins, vests and safety
led to false starts getting snorkel-ready.
But the glorious sun
made waiting part of the fun.
Beach rocks raised more concern.
Footwear advised,
but our young snorkelers never touched down,
snorkeling to a shipwreck.
Outa sight!
But not out of mind.
It made wrecks of Meme and me.
Hannah, an adept swimmer, now finned,
was halfway to Nassau before we could say
“buddy system.”
Lunch was an outdoor cruise line food buffet.
Then on to an off shore park for water play.
Slides, climbers, rockers and jumpers --
ballooned giants, large muscle exercisers,
exhaustion and fun.
Then a return tender trip to the ship
and an overnight cruise
to
Checkpoint Six,
Nassau.
Morning light showed us docked
five ships abreast.
One, The Majesty of the Sea,
provided a breakfast show,
rotated in the harbor
and backed in next door.
Evening entertainment continued
when we waved it back to sea --
with The Norwegian Gem,
and The Carnival Fantasy.
We chose to see Nassau
touring to Rainbow Reef,
there to snorkel over coral
and colorful fish.
On the trip out, chatted with a Georgia girl.
She had just received a birthday gift chicken hatching kit.
I couldn’t quite picture that
but it seemed like a good Gainesville fit.
Anticipated snorkeling “for real”,
like you see on TV,
but this would not be
Jacques Cousteau.
One hundred spring breakers bobbed in the water
a mile or two from Nassau’s shore
-- with other tour boaters and bobbers.
Meme took our pictures
when she could sort us out.
There were colorful underwater
views of flora and fauna
and while we didn’t see Nemo
Hannah did see an anemone.
On the way back through the bay
more scenic views,
celebrity houses,
Tiger’s, Oprah’s and M. J.’s on display.
A sunny travel day at sea
eased us back toward reality.
Here’s what you do if you’re ten
on a ship with a rock climb.
Send grandma to get her camera.
Reach high with your arms
the higher the better.
For a challenge go up on all blues.
Continue all day.
Unfortunately the wall became too popular.
Older than ten,
my rewards were found
at the coffee bar -- conversing
with a couple from Ireland
whose wee baby
was visiting grandmother
from Kissimmee.
Some of the things you and I missed . . .
a men’s belly flop contest, adult ping pong, last chance karaoke,TV tune trivia,
black jack, win-a-cruise Bahama bingo, and the world’s sexiest man competition.
Not my idea of heaven.
Next stop,
Checkpoint Seven,
Return to port.
The finish line? States away.
Trip back strategy,
race, don’t rally.
Replace “Arrive on time”
with
“Arrive home early.”
The kids’ verdict:
They would have liked it better
had we brought the whole family,
especially their dog, Rabi.
And a larger car would have allowed
shopping for baubles
larger than thimbles.
DRK
4/1/11 -- 4/9/11
8/1/11
WONDER WHERE
WONDER WHERE
About to embark, cruise two,
minus the novice --
being at sea about going to sea.
Lightly salted now,
my concern, the loss of novelty
this second time around.
Could the thrill of a cruise south in January
match that of the first heading north in June?
Lots of sea and geography between
Alaska and the Bahama’s Half Moon
Cay, to say
nothing of the Lesser Antilles’
A, B, C islands
minus B
OVERNIGHT IN LAUDERDALE
Breezing through Port Lauderdale -- trip two --
could it match Port Seattle’s lingering fun -- trip one?
No extra day for space at the Needle
or fish at Pike’s.
Our adventure, a dinner place
“within
walking distance”
but over a bridge
without
a sidewalk.
Beware, traffic, our oversized
baby stroller.
Back at the hotel,
Marco Polo in the pool.
The January chill,
no deterrent to
kids exercising their water skills.
Morning brought us down
a few at a time
to a common table --
for breakfast - serial.
ON THE SHIP
No end-of-gangplank wonder.
We knew the ship, the crew
and on-board what-to-do.
But once underway
the wonder evolved
as we settled in
to a week of adult-child tag team time.
Need a kid? We’ve got two.
Moms and dads, take a break.
Share a dinner and a bunk
with those who
make aunts, uncles,
and parents, grand.
Win-win kin fun for everyone,
and at the end of the day,
snuggle time.
Karen discovered
Alyssa’s big blue eyes.
THE POOL
. . . on the Westerdam, nine decks up,
weaved and bobbed like a tall ship’s mast
sloshing with the sea
and “oh-my-goshing”
Senja, Alyssa, Olivia and Hannah,
all brave enough to see
the swimming excitement opportunity.
Blake, not quite one, did the pool edge crawl
while Emily, eventually,
two days at sea
and closer to teen
chucked cool and leaped again
into the childhood pool.
Adults mixed a family brew
of equal parts, kids in the water,
the drink of the day,
and poolside camaraderie.
PROMENADE
Experienced cruisers headed early
for deck chairs, sunny side.
Left in the shade
where air was shared
with a painting crew
and the ship’s cigar,
we continued around,
three laps to a mile.
THE BAHAMAS (Saturday, January 1, 2011)
PERFECT DAY AT HALF MOON CAY
2011 tendered us in to a sandy beach,
our mission, pretty elemental.
First, shade a baby in a cabana.
Then sculpt a castle --
no toys or pails,
just fingers and hands
to scoop and shape
that sugary sand.
Or snorkel out,
it’s crystal clear and turquoise blue,
to scout
an intruder barracuda,
a dirigible, suspended
on the edge of the deep,
eyeing us . . . and the silver fish
around our feet.
Others hiked the beach
and rendezvoused with riders
on a horseback trek.
At noon, a reunion --
-- for shade and barbecue,
shared with chickens
and scattered odd birds
that scurried from the bushes
underfoot.
At the end of the day,
I looked back at the beach
and mused
-- at all we found to do
together
and, yes, wonder of wonders,
. . . without shoes.
Then, back to the ship
for a Sun day at sea.
ARUBA (Monday, JANUARY 3, 2011)
A day at sea brought us to . . .
What do you do
in Oranjestad?
Inefficient tourists,
we walked the chaos,
congested crowds,
shops and tourist marts --
pausing to greet the queen
at Wilhelmina Park,
until a cab to beachfront row
brought manicured grass,
caged birds and paths --
to a beach with pools,
water volleyball,
an enormous outdoor bar,
palm trees, thatched shelters,
lounging areas, . . . ,
and young perfect bodies enjoying a January tan --
maters and daters
confirming Aruba’s beach party forte.
Wondering?
The Peters took Senja to swim.
The report: water, far from clear,
sand-stirred by wind and waves,
but unable to roil their family day.
That evening Mike and Marya took a scenic cruise.
And Louisa learned
to scuba in Aruba.
CURACAO
Tuesday, 1/4/11
Docked at dawn at Willemstad,
Curacao’s capital
beginning to stir.
On the veranda, coffee in hand, the
family gathered for first impressions
from port traffic below.
Speed boats with uniformed men
looking for something to patrol.
A tug towed a tub, the “Istanbul,”
through an opened Swinging Lady Bridge.
Did that ship really cross the sea?
The bridge swung closed and
morning foot traffic flowed
into old town, the Punda,
from the Otrabanda.
We followed soon
and practiced our “Bon Bini” greeting on
those in the shops,
bargain spots,
and the floating market
of day tripping Venezuelan vendors.
Showers sent us into stores, under doors
and to old Fort Amsterdam’s porticos
as the rain did its wash.
Ankle deep water rinsed the streets, toes
and clothes of those
insisting on views up close
of Curacao.
Carole and Louisa piqued my wonder
with a gutsy mother-daughter splash and dash
to hit some shops
and museum hop.
I, to regain dry, would opt
for a virtual tour from the ship,
ten decks up,
a crows’ nest display
of post card Willemstad’s
hills, colorful buildings,
tropical trees, flowers
and bright tiled roofs.
BACK AT SEA
Were you among those who
shopped the ship,
tasted the wine and heard
the Dutch sommelier’s tips
for pairing it with food,
led cheers for our champion
choreographed swimming team?
Could you stay awake
for the late night
pool crawl,
chocolate dessert extravaganza, or
crows’ nest gab sessions?
Take a bow.
I wondered at the magic
of the prolonged evening dinners,
the slight of hand entertainment
by the table-side crew,
Blake’s onesie dinner tuxedo
and, of course, the group tee shirt pose by the pool.
Two days back to Ft. Lauderdale
then exit the cruise,
a fitting stage
for our SRO family play.
DRK
6/11/11
About to embark, cruise two,
minus the novice --
being at sea about going to sea.
Lightly salted now,
my concern, the loss of novelty
this second time around.
Could the thrill of a cruise south in January
match that of the first heading north in June?
Lots of sea and geography between
Alaska and the Bahama’s Half Moon
Cay, to say
nothing of the Lesser Antilles’
A, B, C islands
minus B
OVERNIGHT IN LAUDERDALE
Breezing through Port Lauderdale -- trip two --
could it match Port Seattle’s lingering fun -- trip one?
No extra day for space at the Needle
or fish at Pike’s.
Our adventure, a dinner place
“within
walking distance”
but over a bridge
without
a sidewalk.
Beware, traffic, our oversized
baby stroller.
Back at the hotel,
Marco Polo in the pool.
The January chill,
no deterrent to
kids exercising their water skills.
Morning brought us down
a few at a time
to a common table --
for breakfast - serial.
ON THE SHIP
No end-of-gangplank wonder.
We knew the ship, the crew
and on-board what-to-do.
But once underway
the wonder evolved
as we settled in
to a week of adult-child tag team time.
Need a kid? We’ve got two.
Moms and dads, take a break.
Share a dinner and a bunk
with those who
make aunts, uncles,
and parents, grand.
Win-win kin fun for everyone,
and at the end of the day,
snuggle time.
Karen discovered
Alyssa’s big blue eyes.
THE POOL
. . . on the Westerdam, nine decks up,
weaved and bobbed like a tall ship’s mast
sloshing with the sea
and “oh-my-goshing”
Senja, Alyssa, Olivia and Hannah,
all brave enough to see
the swimming excitement opportunity.
Blake, not quite one, did the pool edge crawl
while Emily, eventually,
two days at sea
and closer to teen
chucked cool and leaped again
into the childhood pool.
Adults mixed a family brew
of equal parts, kids in the water,
the drink of the day,
and poolside camaraderie.
PROMENADE
Experienced cruisers headed early
for deck chairs, sunny side.
Left in the shade
where air was shared
with a painting crew
and the ship’s cigar,
we continued around,
three laps to a mile.
THE BAHAMAS (Saturday, January 1, 2011)
PERFECT DAY AT HALF MOON CAY
2011 tendered us in to a sandy beach,
our mission, pretty elemental.
First, shade a baby in a cabana.
Then sculpt a castle --
no toys or pails,
just fingers and hands
to scoop and shape
that sugary sand.
Or snorkel out,
it’s crystal clear and turquoise blue,
to scout
an intruder barracuda,
a dirigible, suspended
on the edge of the deep,
eyeing us . . . and the silver fish
around our feet.
Others hiked the beach
and rendezvoused with riders
on a horseback trek.
At noon, a reunion --
-- for shade and barbecue,
shared with chickens
and scattered odd birds
that scurried from the bushes
underfoot.
At the end of the day,
I looked back at the beach
and mused
-- at all we found to do
together
and, yes, wonder of wonders,
. . . without shoes.
Then, back to the ship
for a Sun day at sea.
ARUBA (Monday, JANUARY 3, 2011)
A day at sea brought us to . . .
What do you do
in Oranjestad?
Inefficient tourists,
we walked the chaos,
congested crowds,
shops and tourist marts --
pausing to greet the queen
at Wilhelmina Park,
until a cab to beachfront row
brought manicured grass,
caged birds and paths --
to a beach with pools,
water volleyball,
an enormous outdoor bar,
palm trees, thatched shelters,
lounging areas, . . . ,
and young perfect bodies enjoying a January tan --
maters and daters
confirming Aruba’s beach party forte.
Wondering?
The Peters took Senja to swim.
The report: water, far from clear,
sand-stirred by wind and waves,
but unable to roil their family day.
That evening Mike and Marya took a scenic cruise.
And Louisa learned
to scuba in Aruba.
CURACAO
Tuesday, 1/4/11
Docked at dawn at Willemstad,
Curacao’s capital
beginning to stir.
On the veranda, coffee in hand, the
family gathered for first impressions
from port traffic below.
Speed boats with uniformed men
looking for something to patrol.
A tug towed a tub, the “Istanbul,”
through an opened Swinging Lady Bridge.
Did that ship really cross the sea?
The bridge swung closed and
morning foot traffic flowed
into old town, the Punda,
from the Otrabanda.
We followed soon
and practiced our “Bon Bini” greeting on
those in the shops,
bargain spots,
and the floating market
of day tripping Venezuelan vendors.
Showers sent us into stores, under doors
and to old Fort Amsterdam’s porticos
as the rain did its wash.
Ankle deep water rinsed the streets, toes
and clothes of those
insisting on views up close
of Curacao.
Carole and Louisa piqued my wonder
with a gutsy mother-daughter splash and dash
to hit some shops
and museum hop.
I, to regain dry, would opt
for a virtual tour from the ship,
ten decks up,
a crows’ nest display
of post card Willemstad’s
hills, colorful buildings,
tropical trees, flowers
and bright tiled roofs.
BACK AT SEA
Were you among those who
shopped the ship,
tasted the wine and heard
the Dutch sommelier’s tips
for pairing it with food,
led cheers for our champion
choreographed swimming team?
Could you stay awake
for the late night
pool crawl,
chocolate dessert extravaganza, or
crows’ nest gab sessions?
Take a bow.
I wondered at the magic
of the prolonged evening dinners,
the slight of hand entertainment
by the table-side crew,
Blake’s onesie dinner tuxedo
and, of course, the group tee shirt pose by the pool.
Two days back to Ft. Lauderdale
then exit the cruise,
a fitting stage
for our SRO family play.
DRK
6/11/11
DISNEY WITH BETTY
DISNEY WITH BETTY
So you won the Super Bowl!
Set to go to Disney World!
Sorry, but . . .
we beat you
there
and here’s the best --
as Betty’s guests!
A Super Bowl trip to Disney World?
Just another loss if you should miss
arriving by back roads.
Betty chauffeurs to avoid the crowds,
prepping you with the latest news
about what’s been added,
taken out, refreshed,
or moved to a new venue.
No wait at the gate
wading through the ticket muddle
wrestling with the vagueries
of re-entries, park hoppers,
birthday passes and
employee comps.
Betty handled it
. . . months ago.
Not spending your day,
nose in a map.
Betty whisks you here and there,
acquires fast passes
and squires you past
slow lined up masses.
For lunch in a cooled space
she’ll take you to
exotic restaurants
in what should be far away places.
She knows the shows
including which seating rows
will get your kids displayed in
The Lion King parade.
Out on the trail
she knows where
the costumed characters appear,
how to breakfast with the stars,
get autographs,
and what to say
to get to see
the human feet
of Ariel.
Her I. D. works.
Gets you in with the cast,
where they park and change
then lets you shop their perks.
Enjoy one of her favorites --
an evening in Polynesia
including foods from the islands
and a fireworks spectacular.
Bring along
some kids
to do
the conga line.
If the end of the day
coincides with the end of you
then such sweet sorrow.
You can recover on the morrow
in Betty’s pool.
If you insist -- don’t want to miss
this tour-de-chance-
of-a-lifetime
we’ll see what we can do to
get you on her list.
Just don’t assume that one time through
is a Disney do.
She’ll be pressing you
to win a few
more Super Bowls.
DRK
11/9/10
Oct. 18, 2009
So you won the Super Bowl!
Set to go to Disney World!
Sorry, but . . .
we beat you
there
and here’s the best --
as Betty’s guests!
A Super Bowl trip to Disney World?
Just another loss if you should miss
arriving by back roads.
Betty chauffeurs to avoid the crowds,
prepping you with the latest news
about what’s been added,
taken out, refreshed,
or moved to a new venue.
No wait at the gate
wading through the ticket muddle
wrestling with the vagueries
of re-entries, park hoppers,
birthday passes and
employee comps.
Betty handled it
. . . months ago.
Not spending your day,
nose in a map.
Betty whisks you here and there,
acquires fast passes
and squires you past
slow lined up masses.
For lunch in a cooled space
she’ll take you to
exotic restaurants
in what should be far away places.
She knows the shows
including which seating rows
will get your kids displayed in
The Lion King parade.
Out on the trail
she knows where
the costumed characters appear,
how to breakfast with the stars,
get autographs,
and what to say
to get to see
the human feet
of Ariel.
Her I. D. works.
Gets you in with the cast,
where they park and change
then lets you shop their perks.
Enjoy one of her favorites --
an evening in Polynesia
including foods from the islands
and a fireworks spectacular.
Bring along
some kids
to do
the conga line.
If the end of the day
coincides with the end of you
then such sweet sorrow.
You can recover on the morrow
in Betty’s pool.
If you insist -- don’t want to miss
this tour-de-chance-
of-a-lifetime
we’ll see what we can do to
get you on her list.
Just don’t assume that one time through
is a Disney do.
She’ll be pressing you
to win a few
more Super Bowls.
DRK
11/9/10
Oct. 18, 2009
MOBILE HOME
MOBILE HOME
You can’t go home again;
the people have all gone.
Even those who stayed behind
have moved their lives along.
Those at home
watch Fox News,
call you liberal.
Or is it
the other way around?
You can’t go home again.
Old places are
somehow not the same.
The lives in which they figure --
have unfamiliar
names.
Even your old school
does not remember you.
It’s a museum now,
with other things to do.
You can’t go home again.
Nostalgia muddies memories
of what was, or who,
even you.
To be homed, I recommend,
build now and tend
those cherished places,
memories, friends,
the near and the dear.
Keep them close
as you wend
your way ‘tween there and here.
DRK, 3/28/11
You can’t go home again;
the people have all gone.
Even those who stayed behind
have moved their lives along.
Those at home
watch Fox News,
call you liberal.
Or is it
the other way around?
You can’t go home again.
Old places are
somehow not the same.
The lives in which they figure --
have unfamiliar
names.
Even your old school
does not remember you.
It’s a museum now,
with other things to do.
You can’t go home again.
Nostalgia muddies memories
of what was, or who,
even you.
To be homed, I recommend,
build now and tend
those cherished places,
memories, friends,
the near and the dear.
Keep them close
as you wend
your way ‘tween there and here.
DRK, 3/28/11
THE BURIAL MOUNDS
THE BURIAL MOUNDS
Downtown there is a city square,
a park.
We hold our celebrations there.
A bandstand in the center
gathers the musicians
while up and down the walks
vendors hawk their wares.
In two corners sacred mounds are circled ‘round
with yellow ropes and a sign request:
“PLEASE RESPECT
THE BURIAL MOUNDS.”
These indigenous rest
in a town they didn’t choose.
We are now their home.
To show respect
we mow their grass --
that -- and don’t trespass.
I saw a group at River City Days --
with pan flute, guitar and harp --
playing beautiful music, South American style.
Our natives must have music makers
who could celebrate the mounds
and keep our spirits raised year-round.
DRK
4/23/16
Downtown there is a city square,
a park.
We hold our celebrations there.
A bandstand in the center
gathers the musicians
while up and down the walks
vendors hawk their wares.
In two corners sacred mounds are circled ‘round
with yellow ropes and a sign request:
“PLEASE RESPECT
THE BURIAL MOUNDS.”
These indigenous rest
in a town they didn’t choose.
We are now their home.
To show respect
we mow their grass --
that -- and don’t trespass.
I saw a group at River City Days --
with pan flute, guitar and harp --
playing beautiful music, South American style.
Our natives must have music makers
who could celebrate the mounds
and keep our spirits raised year-round.
DRK
4/23/16
DO IT WITH ROPES AND A SADDLE
DO IT WITH ROPES
AND A SADDLE
Romance . . . It’s in the air.
Are you of a mind
and body
to seek it there?
Saddle and rope it
for an old fashioned thrill
-- hands on
-- low tech flair.
Here’s what I mean.
Too much tree?
Sling a hard hat musketeer
through the breeze
to sculpt your backyard treetop tapestry.
He’ll ladder up the locust,
drape ropes down,
loop one end up and around,
then,
saddle-cinched at the waist,
winch up, swing free
and swashbuckle
through your tree
-- boots in search
of the perfect perch.
Target in view,
stretch for the angle . . .
bra-a-a-p
notch from below
and cut from above.
The ground guy guides it
down and around the neighbor’s cedars
to the truck through a chipper.
Meanwhile, the tree guy,
with chain saw buck-trapped to his saddle,
a rapier dropped and lurching free,
thrusts with a hand saw
and parries with a pruning pole
out toward the periphery
sending it all
with dead wood
down.
At the end of the day
romancing . . . leaves . . .
a place for the light to play,
a balanced tree
and intact canopy.
(epi) log:
.
Feeders restored,
harassed cardinals
cease their sass
to explore
their new spartan furnishings.
A squirrel ponders
summer’s new trimmed out skyway
and new strategy.
For the trees on the street
they used a bucket truck.
DRK
6/13/11
4/15/10
AND A SADDLE
Romance . . . It’s in the air.
Are you of a mind
and body
to seek it there?
Saddle and rope it
for an old fashioned thrill
-- hands on
-- low tech flair.
Here’s what I mean.
Too much tree?
Sling a hard hat musketeer
through the breeze
to sculpt your backyard treetop tapestry.
He’ll ladder up the locust,
drape ropes down,
loop one end up and around,
then,
saddle-cinched at the waist,
winch up, swing free
and swashbuckle
through your tree
-- boots in search
of the perfect perch.
Target in view,
stretch for the angle . . .
bra-a-a-p
notch from below
and cut from above.
The ground guy guides it
down and around the neighbor’s cedars
to the truck through a chipper.
Meanwhile, the tree guy,
with chain saw buck-trapped to his saddle,
a rapier dropped and lurching free,
thrusts with a hand saw
and parries with a pruning pole
out toward the periphery
sending it all
with dead wood
down.
At the end of the day
romancing . . . leaves . . .
a place for the light to play,
a balanced tree
and intact canopy.
(epi) log:
.
Feeders restored,
harassed cardinals
cease their sass
to explore
their new spartan furnishings.
A squirrel ponders
summer’s new trimmed out skyway
and new strategy.
For the trees on the street
they used a bucket truck.
DRK
6/13/11
4/15/10
TIME TRAVEL AT THE CENTER OF SPACE
Travel to Canaveral,
and Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge
for rockets and more.
Land turtles, creeping basketballs,
inch their way to the bush.
Gators in the summer heat
retreat to the woods.
Stop for a picture?
Snake bait.
I suggest, for
images to share,
explore
the Kennedy Space Center legacy.
A shuttle crawler, low, shuttered in its track
recalls
slow steady steps into space
awaits
the last shuttle, now in stall
anticipated payload in prep
for one last space station haul
and wonders.
What’s next?
Apollo 8 on display,
its mission complete --
sent a crew
to orbit the moon
and return.
Experience it with the original cast
and control room technology --
IBM, NASA and Boeing.
The world, awed
at first-time views.
Kids, this is where it all began
on a clear day, December 21, 1968
Apollo 8 took a picture of the U. S. of A.
and your mom’s and my wedding in Lax, GA.
DRK
7/16/11
THE RULES ON THE BUS
THE RULES ON THE BUS
were,
make a guess,
for our safety
and made clear
by the tour guide
driving us.
The rules on the bus
were soon forgot,
turtled by a critter
when we left the lot.
The kids of course
just had to see.
Amazingly,
The scrambles on the bus
both kids and rules
did not keep us
from completing our tour.
DRK
2/17/11
were,
make a guess,
for our safety
and made clear
by the tour guide
driving us.
The rules on the bus
were soon forgot,
turtled by a critter
when we left the lot.
The kids of course
just had to see.
Amazingly,
The scrambles on the bus
both kids and rules
did not keep us
from completing our tour.
DRK
2/17/11
DELTA RESCUE
DELTA RESCUE
Reined in while riding through the Delta
by the hard riding Delta Gang.
Sensing gold in our baggage
they decided to rob another stage.
On the trip out, our bag,
just another bag;
for the trip back, too big.
They would take our dollars
-- seventy nine --
to reduce its size.
But Hannah in her Tilley Hat
and secret bracelet survival strap
rode up
to cinch and shrink our errant pack.
Faced with this loss of cash appeal
the gang, scheme failed,
rode away
to scam another day.
We ride nowhere now,
business or fun,
without Hannah on
shotgun.
DRK
9/8/11
Reined in while riding through the Delta
by the hard riding Delta Gang.
Sensing gold in our baggage
they decided to rob another stage.
On the trip out, our bag,
just another bag;
for the trip back, too big.
They would take our dollars
-- seventy nine --
to reduce its size.
But Hannah in her Tilley Hat
and secret bracelet survival strap
rode up
to cinch and shrink our errant pack.
Faced with this loss of cash appeal
the gang, scheme failed,
rode away
to scam another day.
We ride nowhere now,
business or fun,
without Hannah on
shotgun.
DRK
9/8/11
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Getting my feet wet
Welcome to my new blog. I will probably use it to try out new ideas for poems. But not to worry, I will not inflict anything on you that has not been worked over pretty well. Don't know how these blogs work so I am very open to any advice, suggestions, feedback. Should you read a poem here, that could be one more person than read the last one, so thanks in advance!
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