Bright & Luminous

Their Fiery Lives

Their fiery lives and waning decline
Mimic the very mortality we inhabit

A mass of incandescent gas under pressure
Forges the unstoppable force of life
See how they shine
Bright, luminous, warm as a womb
Projecting heat and illumination
Into this cold, dark world

Limitless galaxies, they define
Our very essence
A smorgasbord of neurons
Spinning seemingly without reason
Propelled by fuel we may never know
To create
To build
To grow and retreat
It may have been a big bang
Or a bolt of lighting
But these atoms make us whole
Comprising the building blocks of life
Creation becomes possible
For a while

Who's The Boss?

Fire or Farce

In a collective bargaining dispute
One assumes a bit of give and take
Would yield an acceptable solution

Not in Tinseltown!

The hidden persuaders are up in arms.

The Writers Guild of America has asked
Talent agents to sign a new code of conduct
Ensuring that they get their clients
The best deals possible

The response from the association of talent
Agents is somewhat
Off-putting and out of whackThey have indicated that they will
Not be signing any such code
Because the WGA is not the boss
Of them!

Whatever happened to good faith negotiation?

Writers are firing agents
And agents are compiling lists.


Much Like Rashomon

Our lives fly past
In a perspective-laden process
What we see depends
On where we stand
A crusty curmudgeon pontificates
On the past
Concerned chemists convene
And kibbutz on carbon
Sinking into the very air we breathe
Demagogues and democrats
Duking it out for the soul
Of society – A transparency
Obscured by dollars
And the settling dust
Into which
We all sink



Spreading Light

And in the spreading light that becomes
Southern California’s swan song
We revel in the fast shuffle
The spiel, the syrupy song
And dance, the call now
Operators are standing by
The blogs, the bits, the bravura
That has seemingly transformed
This free enterprise flotilla
Of markets and innovation
Into a slap-dash, bright lights
Compendium of hucksterism, shells and secrets

Torching the truth of Hamilton’s legacy
In the deluded belief that our prize will glow
In a world not now peopled with strivers
But animated by the burning desire
To torch the house
And the hope that holds it!