Tag Archives: #poetry

Aggro Zen

Aggro Zen,
a short story of pre-visualization.

According to the Urban Dictionary this is
a term that has been used for decades by surfers and other water-headed types to describe someone who is overly and unnecessarily aggressive, competitive, or asinine whilst in the water.

Prolonged exposure to the aggro can ruin even the best session, so “deal” with them immediately (read: choke with your leash then return to your state of zen-like calm once they are dead)

I like the image of chilled out surfers
choking aggressive surfers with their leash
and then

calmly going back to a zen state with the waves…
the breath of the planet…

a particular cat

I recall a childhood memory of Mr. Dooley,
our family protector,
a spirit animal of German Shepherd – Collie decent
always with us, watchful, in the yard.

It is summer.

Mr. Dooley, ever vigilant, resting in the shade,
brother in the sandbox, nation building.
Upside down, I rest in the tree above them.
a particular neighborhood cat

this cat
taunted us daily,
pacing and calling out from the fence top.
nameless, testing, marking, rattling its tail

several days passed in this way…

It was hot.
Texas Hot.

The particular cat sauntering along the fence line
marking the boundary.
Mounting the fence,
walking the usual path
calling out..

On the eighth day,
Mr. Dooley rose stretching his body…
he walked to the fence
In a singular, elegant gesture cleared the top
grabbing the cat by the head as he passed
one smooth motion of his head upon landing,
cat neck breaking,
head releasing;
cat body suspended weightless in backward rotation

and Mr. Dooley…

bouncing back up
over the fence

to lay down in the shade of his favorite tree
ever watchful
as if

and that
is how I remember the zen duet with a particular cat.


It felt so good to yell about the injustice-

I didn’t think for a moment about you sitting beside me feeling like it was directed at you until you rose rapidly from your comfortable pose.

I had relinquished control of the angry mare and she was crashing around the paddock.

One hoof jammed into the water trough.
The fresh, sullied by the muck festering behind the shoe.
An avalanche of anatomy thrashing to the sawdust and powdered earth.

Too late, she struck her cheek on the gate.
Wild eyes calmed by blood and bone,
Marrow loosed into muscle.

Ring of Fire
The things we do for love…

Nauseous Realization:
That trusted soul has come to clear the spent flesh and dung.

Leg lame, she struggles to stand.

Walking? Where? And why.

The furrier is gone.