Austin Poet

Thanksgiving 2025

11/30/2025

Poets tell us that life is a treasure
If we're lucky it might be sublime
I am grateful for love beyond measure
And my place in the passage of time

I am thankful for kindness and caring
Simple gestures can make life worth living
I am moved by the custom of sharing
And the habit of generous giving

I rejoice when the strongest are gentle
And when wisdom is given its due
Never mind if I sound sentimental
I revere all that's noble and true

I give thanks for the next generation
Boys and girls who'll be here when I'm gone
Though the future may cause trepidation
They're the promise that life will go on

Blissful Silence

10/18/2025

Blissful silence, you alone
create my perfect comfort zone
A refuge from the constant chatter
of the world and all its clatter

Give me the silence of the tombs
before the din of crowded rooms
I envy monks their quiet cells
away from all those decibels

Modern living's noisy ways
are ubiquitous these days
TV screens on every wall:
Do we really need them all?

There is no more soothing diet
Than hours on end of peace and quiet

My Elders

9/14/2025

One by one they slipped away
Whittling down the generations
After years of holding sway
at our family celebrations

Always there at every turn
Nudging when I'd misbehave.
Sadly, I would never learn
the tales they carried to the grave

Now those family tales are gone
Vanished like a shooting star
Whittling down the lexicon
we use to picture who we are

I wish I'd asked them, one by one,
to tell me everything they'd done

Pocitos Beach in Winter

8/21/2025

The low grey sky cast a cold grey light
on the coast where I lived in my teens
The air in July had a wintry bite
that froze my legs in my jeans

The lonely beach was a perfect place
to puff on a damp cigarette
Where the onshore wind would sting my face
and my shoes would be soaking wet

The stormy sea was a fearsome force
The shoreline flecked with foam
I watched as the tempest ran its course
then finished my smoke and went home

Please and Thank You

6/15/2025

Please and Thank You, in my estimation
Are essential pillars of civilization

When I ask for something and I say please
Metaphorically speaking I'm on bended knees

When my wish is granted, it's my contention
That a word of thanks is the right convention

Not everyone, I suspect
Sees this ritual as a mark of respect

So if you have lemons you'd like me to squeeze
I'll do it with pleasure if you'll only say please

But if, when I do, you forget to say thank you
I'll put you over my knee and spank you

I'm Retired

5/18/2025

It's Monday morning and I'm still in bed
I don't have Covid and I don't feel dead
I'm not malingering or unusually tired
It's very simple: I'm retired

I just turned eighty and I wondered why
I kept on working as the years sped by
Was this the destiny that I desired?
Without further ado, I retired

I've been so lucky to be self-employed
Doing the kind of work that I enjoyed
I'm not laid off, I have not been fired
No, none of that, I'm just retired

It's Monday morning, time to rise and shine
To embrace this time that's mine all mine
I've kept my marbles and still feel inspired
It's a whole new beginning: I'm retired

Little League Game

4/20/2025

Blue shirts on the bases
Red shirts on the field
Who will win this baseball game
Is yet to be revealed

If my home team should be the one
Of course I'll be over the moon
Till then I am keeping an eye on the light
As it fades in the late afternoon

If I could choose I'd prefer not to lose
But fate will decide who wins
And meanwhile evening shadows fall
As the slide toward twilight begins

Balls are hit and runs are scored
And one team takes the crown
A ritual for devoted fans
To watch as the sun goes down

Who We Are

3/16/2025

Come now, take my hand
and let us wander through the streets
Through the narrow winding alleys
where the women hang their sheets
On the avenues where traffic roars and rumbles
Where a stranger smiles and mumbles
And twilight time engulfs us as we roam

A splash of light that splits the dark
The sound of laughter in the park
Windows open to the evening air
when the summer heat's too much to bear
And mothers call their roaming children home

Here we can stroll or we can pause
to peer through partly open doors
At quiet rooms filled with bric-a-brac
And grandma knitting in the back
Boys playing marbles on their knees
Girls playing jacks in twos and threes
And someone making music with a comb

No need to wander very far
to see what made us who we are
No matter what we've done or seen
we're always who we've always been

Speak to the Stones

2/23/2025

When no one understands me
I go to the river to speak to the stones
When the wind carries my words away
I go to the graveyard to speak to the bones

There, in the spaces between the graves
The past is laid out in simple rows
Telling ancient stories our tribe no longer knows

What will become of us, my princess,
when our language is lost?
Who will describe the wild foothills
where the spring water flows?
Who will recall the spirits that dance in the meadows
but no one sees?

Stones are the bones of the mountain
They remember more than the trees

Tell Me

1/22/2025

Fill my days with sunny skies
Fill my nights with stars
Tell me once again
that we are on our way to Mars

Fill my mind with fantasies
Fill my head with dreams
Tell me you are not averse
to going to extremes

Fill my flute with pink champagne
Fill my cup with wine
Let us drink our fill of each
then tell me that you're mine

Fill my pouch with precious stones
Fill my purse with gold
Tell me we'll forever be
together, growing old

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