sound waves in my ears
winds wave across leaves
the sky is epic blue
Equality — humans struggle with it.
Queerly we prefer vertical ranks and
Underlining achievements.
All of the time we are
Looking for praise.
Into Self more than others.
This could be our demise,
Yet — many refuse to notice.
Winter’s
white &
frost flowers
petal.
The first
stars
were poems
alight out
of no-
where.
1/10/2010
I don’t want to hear your opinion,
please just let it be.
Your opinion is wrong,
plus boring and long,
Now everyone listen to me.
No one is perfect.
Walking on clouds,
looking down,
over broken glass.
What matters is how.
Mending with love,
versus walking back
over broken glass.
I’m ready to move on.
Bickering sickening everything and everyone.
Hush.
Can you hear the calm?
Smiling releasing dopamine and serotonin.
Breathe.
I am everything and everyone.
Oxygen, carbon, nitrogen and hydrogen.
One.
Why don’t some believe?
Religion, superstition, denigration, and greed.
Done.
a bug slowly crawls
one leg partially gone
the sky is super blue
Patchouli smoke billows into the sky
Like a day is to a life
At times it floats upward calmly
Other times it frantically fights
Regardless, in the end,
It returns to basic elements
Just as you and I will too
dark green and light green
leaves change in sunlight
the wind dances across them
In the stillness of this solitudedreams clinging like rain to my blood soul
I did know a caressing of invisible hands
the presence of some monster unformed
spoke, giving me reasons to pray
and finally, invariably
allowing real freedom-
fear which brings me nothing
pallid death riding like a virgin in the dark night
all matters of wishlessness or anguish
rush toward the stems bloom
a mindful tomb opening in the light of
this first spring.
We are the wellspring of ancient desire.
Through the mist
I see orange hell fire
the age old contempt for man is burning
I am lonely
we are alone until
this place anoints the bleak fire
burning our soul’s gestation
Know your way to God.
Winter 1993
Revised
6/16/2016
The box of Cabernet is empty
I stare at the box with has forsaken me
How could you run dry?
I’ve treated you so well
I saved you from the grocery store prison
Yet your vital liquid vanishes
Why?
I am looking forward to seeing you today.
It has been a six years this past may.
Pictures flood into my head,
From the day I left your bed
The first time only to return
Over and over again.
Anxious decisions are abound.
I pray at least one good one is found.
Seeing you again could restart my heart,
Or it could cause what’s left to fall apart
Like parts did the first time
Over and over again.
I see you walking towards me
And my mind stops working.
A struggle is within my heart
Do I speak out or not
At least imperfect speech is a start
Words have the power to tear apart
I do not know a lot
A struggle is within my heart
When I do speak out I’m not trying to be smart
I’m not trying to hurt those I’ve sought
At least imperfect speech is a start
Not speaking would be not doing my part
But speaking could make the prejudice hot
A struggle is within my heart
Perhaps I shouldn’t worry and throw the dart
Before peace and love rot
At least imperfect speech is a start
And so wisdom I will attempt to impart
I will lovingly give it all I’ve got
A struggle is within my heart
At least imperfect speech is a start
one thing is certain
as I breathe deeply
my worries fade away
Darkness
Outside not in
Inside light keeps me up
Light seeps through my eyes to my soul
No sleep
this is the second
invited by my friend poe
another bad one
What symphony of sound do you bring on those beautiful days?
What is a reality continuously ending;
the Winter’s silence may not be heard
but the miracle of your coming to choose us
is a soft running inside the shadow’s pleasure renounced,
this conversation leaves me empty…
I’m no longer telling you anything that you
can’t
guess
about ourselves…
Winter 1995
Revised
2/23/2016
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