November 6, 2017 Kirk

Chef Shiva’s Recipe for Life

   serves all

Ingredients

1 mind
1 heart
1 body
2 tablespoons unsalted humor

Instructions

  1. Remove mind from cultural packaging and place on empty cookie sheet. Let sit until quiet. You will know it is ready when no more judgment of self or others.
  2. Fill a bowl with warm gratitude and soak heart until it’s protective leaves soften. Then, carefully remove the leaves one at a time, being sure not to dig into the tender flesh of the heart. The gentle, warm flesh is all that should remain. You may want to set the leaves aside for later to grill over a ceremonial fire with some olive oil.
  3. Fold quiet mind and open heart back into body. Sprinkle with humor and serve.

Kirk Merlin

November 1, 2017 Kirk

The dragonfly’s shadow rests on a rock

in the creek

twitching beneath the breeze

as if the two were somehow connected.

 

Through its translucent wings

I look back in time

and see eons of granite

placed lovingly in this spot

by winds

by waters

by gods.

 

Its still there as I painstakingly

write

and rewrite

this ode

my only worry

on such a glorious desert day.

 

And now

finally

from zero to sixty in no seconds

it zips into the water

and swims upstream.

 

Kirk Merlin

 

October 31, 2017 Kirk

the same

they say

but each rectangle tells a story.

Though their grandparents built the Great Wall

these here bricks lie prone

timid

unable to repel even a midget Mongol horde.

 

They sit here

beneath my feet

waiting to be trod upon.

 

Their story is a peaceful one

asleep at the Snowbasin

Mountain Resort.

 

Awaken!

Arise!

Commerce cannot sit still.

Sections of it have been rebuilt

re-told.

It’s for tourists, of course.

For education.

 

There’s even an alpine slide

they say.

 

It’s up at the Great Wall of China

they mean

not at the Snowbasin

Mountain Resort.

 

Kirk Merlin

 

October 27, 2017 Kirk

Hat and sunglasses

do not dampen the flare

of the mountain autumn sun.

Over the trees and

beyond the chairlift

it peeks

from behind the clouds.

 

Now it is hot

and getting hotter

as the hat hunkers

down.

 

But just then

the cooling clouds cross again

like the misunderstood emotions

of a new girlfriend.

 

The gondola sits empty.

This bench has but one.

A young man

alone

with his thoughts.

 

Kirk Merlin

 

October 18, 2017 Kirk

Let’s not use the term dive bar anymore.

May I suggest neighborhood bar or local joint.

Watering hole.

 

There’s still a jukebox against the wall

Maybe some pull tabs or peanuts

being eaten by folks not so different from you

getting through another day like a wildebeest on the serengeti.

 

What you call a dive

is someone’s surrogate family.

Someone’s watering hole.