a short poem about silence
of this moment with nature.
they bind me to other people.
the silence emancipates us.
Miles Davis
straw dogs to the morning sun_
jazz notes and rain drops _
I shall not look past winter
I shall not look past Winter.
Despite the forgetful frost,
Something fertile lies,
coiled buried beneath.
I shall suffer the sacrifice
and savor the sweetness
of Anticipation.
purpose in being is
purpose in being is..
not in the end,
not in the beginning.
anxiety is a meter of end points
Singing a song
not the note
before the first
after the last
Two Poems of Rain
I follow her down
Within every rain drop
is a reflection of the Sea.
through mountain meadow
through rolling river
she finds her way to the Sea
and I wonder if
within the mountain meadows,
within the rolling rivers
If I may also see
the reflection of the sea
I follow her down_
Night Storm
smells sweet
taps tempestuously
follows the thunder
before the breeze
asks for nothing
goes about its business
into the night.
Dhyāna
Here,
In the ceremony of
Ordinary Things,
Beauty persists,
Profundity permeates,
I have forgotten my mind
I have surrendered my body
Now, the world prevails inside.
Seasonal Collision
Something old, Something new
Anesthesia of Winter Blues
Springs Intention have force through.
Fertile thunderstorms howl and boom
Sleepy thorns are now in bloom
Pasts slumbering secrets left untold
A budding consciousness unfolds
pedals of Spring after the cold
Something old, Something new
A life spent in slumbering review
Is pushing forward with flowering A-new.
Morning Glory
*
daylight come roaring up one morning
peeling back the slumbering night drapes
That unveil swirling morning flame
leaping… sill to sill
inspecting the household nook and crannies
like whiskered wandering curiosity
slippery slinky sunbeams
fading fast the darkness
filling fast, the morning
it blooms in its glory.
Self portrait and poem
Who-I-Am-Being
All things are shaped by friction
Growth by by erosion,
the crash of objects against environment
water against rock, man against circumstance,
two crashing into one and other
I am no different,
except for the engine within that propels me
forward, fueled with past experience
with the gift of mind, sensation, and memory
and the awareness of the sparks
created between me,
and the who and the what
that I crash into.
**
special thanks to Picassohead.com for I am otherwise artisitcally inept.
the Great Mountain
What use is
a Great Mountain
if no deer are near
to drink upon
his springs
,
Where stands
a Great Mountain
if no valley is near
to take shelter from
the driving winds
,
How tall is
a Great Mountain
if no misty cloud is near
to anchor gently upon
with kisses of dew
,
What exists
The Great Mountain
he sits Quietly
he sits eternally
he is never alone.
Three Agnostic Poems
Agnostic reminder (sticky note poem)
I will not seek
I will investigate
I will not denounce
I will invite
I will embrace
life’s uncertainties
and appreciate what’s
hidden from my line of sight
I will not give away
my autonomy
I will encourage you
to share your dignity
In loving life so passionately
I will not hide in rigidly
I will swim in peaceful fluidity
Sleuthing
If I already Knew…
I’d Be missing out
on the Adventure of Learning
The stimulation of mystery
The discovering of what
The tempestuous How
humbling error
Invigorating ‘aha‘
And when I see you
you’re always changing
the world is evolving
And I’m always engaging
The adventure of learning
while never fully Knowing.
The Greatest Lesson….
the greatest Lesson that I may learn,
A shameless answer to a question
I don’t Know
Thaw Brushes
salty stream soak urban paths
sun rays warm pedestrian shoulders
pedals shivering on
white gray acrylic
winter colors stream through urban paths
the odors of impending Spring
with warm memory
sweep streets like
brush stokes with
flowing flowering enthusiasm.
Tolerance
Nothing is totally certain.
Nothing is totally safe.
Outcomes are sometimes invisible,
In all our acts of faith.
Risk is sometimes accepted.
Uncertainty often postpones.
Yet difference between trust and doubt
Is measured comfort with the unknowns’
..
(repost)
Still River and Nameless
Nameless ( a poem in the park)
“The Tao is always Nameless”
Sometimes I think that I,
too would give up my name
to fade into the Mesh.
A rock gray Stream
sparkling through humid Air
faintly touching Ash Trees
housing hidden Cicadas
singing to one and other
winged Red Breast takes advantage of all
And I sit a nameless content witness
to the surrounding Nameless.
“The Tao is always nameless”. -Lao tsu
.
Snow globe and then some
While shaking the globe
shiny tiny visions
shook suddenly through the
crystal covered snow fall
dazzling from the outside
sensuous from the inside…
***
Radical dreamers
Rational believers
sharing their visions
in a sensuous snow storm.
Suddenly Saucer shaped
(Paranormal Blues)
Watching the world
Spinning beyond control
Holding onto the jagged edges
around all the entropy spaces
,
just to feel
feel the fading forces
swallowed by spacey rigor mortis
,
Watching the world
spinning beyond control
,
I’ve become
suddenly saucer shaped
and fly away
,
We want something to believe in
We want somewhere to escape
We want to look past the horizon
,
everyone is suddenly saucer shaped
and fly away
Walking, six feet tall and rising
Walking Lascaux
.
.
.
six feet tall and rising
I am so much taller than my past
I’m so taller than the shadows it casts
,
many have had opinions on what I should be
many have an opinions on whats right for me.
,
I am so much taller than my past
I’m so taller than the shadows it casts.
because I follow my own opinions
of whom I am to be.
.
.
.
.
Walking- metallic Lascaux (a revision)
young lifes legacy (unfinished)
cruel beast with silent horns
you’ve ripped and you’ve torn
In a short life forsaken
a young life you’ve taken
everything you’ve taken
,
You can’t take the inspiring
life affirming, caring, smiling
impacting memories
carried by so many
you can’t take her legacy
you can’t take our memories.
,
Cruel beast of darken mass
you cant move as fast
as a young life’s impact
so stay in the past
and we’ll keep our memories
and she will keep her legacy.
.
for our friend, Denise.
.
Meteor Shower Memoirs and Sillouette
Thrust out
pulled in
thrown down
the atmosphere burns
with the twists and the turns
igniting the black canvas sky
A jealous Moon just sighs
at candle light strokes
that excite on looking folks
reach their hands out high
to grab hot oil stones from the sky
pebbles of sand
that slide through the hands
fall to the ground
without even a sound
beach sands and night sky
lonely Moon, you and I
when All is all done
and everyone is gone
and all is left is the Moon
the lonely lonely Moon.
Thrown down
Pulled in
Thrust Out
Hawk at Hawk point
..
I blaze the airflow
beak towards the river
then ride updraft
wings pushed to the sky
,
I’ll pose nonchalantly
for clicking cameras
hear the envious sighs
from those stranded cliff -side
,
They’ll put their children
on carnival rides
the clicking cameras
watch the laughter so high
‘
I dive so low
I glide so high
I laugh for the cameras
leaves the stranded sigh.
click image for origional photo
Long Day’s Lullaby
Long Day’s Lullaby.
Long days lullaby poem
Rest your head
upon my pillow
Its been a long long day
The sun will rise
again tomorrow
lightening up the way
`
no more thoughts
on why or what
who or when
where it all began
`
rest your head
upon my pillow
we’ve had along long day
the sun will rise
again from shadows
to lighten a brand new day.
subway synchronization
Standing in the subway crowd
Feeling alone
The Winter blues
A touch of gray
Frozen to the bone.
‘
Something is here
I Can’t believe
I haven’t seen before
Although I’ve come
In stood in this place
A thousand times or more
`
The crowd sways
like fields of whey
pushed by crosswind might
Faces gently leaning
toward the doors
likes stalks lean
towards sunlight
‘
Ive come here as
An Army at War
I’ll leave a man of Peace
The lion poses
most majestic
when in a hill crest sleep
‘
The World that seemed
Like a grand place
grows smaller everyday
I stand lion hearted
my face leaning to the sun
above the crowded subway.
Murder Mystery
“Captive Blue-Eyes…Alas we meet.”
- she laughs
`
smoldering cigarette smoke
climbs from cafe` counter to the ceiling
an ashtray tongue licks and breathes dust
curling and twisting outward & upward
like a good story.
`
“Whats your story? “..
- she winks
eyelashes curling and twisting
`
“Everyone has a story”
`
“I’ve had a thousands stories”
—I snarl
`
“they all end with my death”
`
“Time to write a new story”
– she nods
`
Over her shoulder
The door blows open…
Barks and Howls