Man with coin trick

Securing his bike,
He smiles at my feeble joke.
(No, I really wont steal his bike.)
We stop at his request.

He removes a gold colored coin
From his pocket, and makes it disappear,
Then has it reappear
From the back of his neck.

Rose barks and I clap.
Our performer, an old man, with thick lenses,
And a wrinkled cherubic grin
Is my reason for offering kindness today.

Annie

“I have a good idea”, she said
In a way emblematic of her 8 years.
Antipodal to both mother and father
Annie is unapologetic for her existence.

Her father would assume
He was sitting in someone’s seat,
Her Mother thought it inappropriate
To ask for a raise.

Annie travels lighter,
Carries much less baggage.
A place at the table, an ear of a friend,
A less tortured path.

Foolish and absurd
Is the 70 year old
Who speculates on the trajectory
Of a child’s life.

I’ve tired of monopoly.
Having more property than another
Is a pathetic way to judge your existence.
It excludes your humanity.

Rather notice the joy of
A dog racing nowhere,
Or Annie, enjoying the day
And her latest good idea.

Mr Clean

Standing with wife and carriaged baby girl,
A clean shaven young man
Told the union rep
“Without Walmart groceries would cost 3 times as much”.

Mr Clean stood at the edge of the ocean beach walk,
Behind the Del Coronado Hotel,
He was in his element,
Looking earnest and sounding hollow.

Another enlightened soul
Secure in the safety of his latter day Teddy-bear,
Wife, baby, hotel, beach,white.
Maybe he thought the conversation meaningful.

If the union rep, a much bigger guy,
Had entered Mr. Clean’s space
And put his foot on the smaller man’s sandal
An argument might have ensued.

For then the safety net would have been penetrated,
Subsumed by the question confronting him.
What wisdom could he speak to his antagonist,
On a field he need play without armor?

Might he realize that his lie was not big enough?
Could he imagine something else might matter more?
Had he not noticed the destruction of community?
Without “the other” what would test his pristine certainty?

Words

Your thoughts, silent and invisible, cannot be judged
Yet your words not merely predict action,
They are in themselves action,
And reaction tells of their value.

Is my “good morning” pleasing,
Does it suggest my recognition of your presence
Or do you hear a voice
Prerecorded in a meaningless sound bite?

If I express doubt,
Is it a preamble to an inquiry that we both may share
Or have I fired the first volley
In a war that may rupture any attempted dialogue?

I may exhort followers to destroy the temple
And watch the fires burn.
I may plead for a good man
Not knowing he will rise and consume me.

I may tell those I love
Of my desire for their happiness,
Without bringing a present,
And expect to be believed.

Rid yourself of “you know” and “well”.
Recognize the silence that needs filling.
Know too the one that speaks truth.
Above all, offer compassion.