PR-44
Like Happiness on the High Horizon
Do I
Have time to pursue rainbows?
Who knows where they end
And there are rumors they recede
Like happiness on the high horizon
But my God
I just love rainbows
I do
PR-287
Our Fascination Lies
Moods have hues:
It’s like that game
Someone says you’re getting warm
Or you’re getting cold
Just so happiness is warmth
Angst and doubt are cold
The warmth the happiness
Is an indicator like red litmus paper
It’s not an end in itself
And what we need to know isn’t
The presence of the indicator
Instead it’s what was indicated
But seeing our fascination lies
Only with the messenger
Only with warmth
The message departs.
And the indicator changes hue:
Turns blue
PR-290
The Candle Cat of Happiness
“It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.” –Eleanor Roosevelt
The trouble is darkness
Cursed gets mad
(Wouldn’t you?)
There’s a lying dog named darkness
(Let sleeping dogs lie)
And then the candle cat of happiness
(On little fog feet)
Can glide ignitely by
PR-473 (Published in Ascent Aspirations)
The Rules Are Cut and Dried
These are the rules:
A found penny is lucky heads up
Two found pennies together doesn’t matter
Any nickel or dime or better
Doesn’t matter
The rules are cut and dried
But I conceive a primitive
Experiment in power: for instance
If I turn a tails penny over to heads
For someone else to find
That makes now
Heads in charge
And so my hypothesis
Is that one has the power
To create luck for someone else
You may say but you
Will never know the result
And so it’s a worthless experiment
To which my reply:
Au contraire mon frere
(Establishing a tone of camaraderie)
I already know
The rules are cut and dried:
Happiness is the given
You work backwards from there
New PR-306
A Rehearsal for Some Beautiful Sunset
I should have more faith
In the clouds.
(When they lift
They do a lot of heavy lifting)
Each time they sucker me in
With their gloomy way
Of hide the sun
But it always turns out it’s just
A rehearsal for some beautiful
Sunset
PR3–130
Quite Beautiful, When You’d Got Done with It
I call it happiness practice as perhaps
Finger cymbal exercises
(Work better when you dance)
And the wonderful thing is
Sour moods abound indeed
Found in fact with ease and in your face
Veritable fodder and raw material
Because by God over-hexed and
Just around the corner comes
Some brusque some out and out
Of the blue mistrusting encrusting
(But blue was exonerated)
Thing like a spiderweb or accompanying
Arachnid and instead of fed up
One plays a game of pretend
(And this is where creativity comes handy)
Yup–all you need is a story line
Where some apparent surface thing
Really was something quite beautiful
When you’d got done with it
