Tuesday, September 30, 2014

"What do you want?"
I ask that girl
Who stands and stares
So blankly at me.
But she doesn't have any words,
Any sounds, or any emotions,
Hardly a sign of life
Except for her eyes.

They plead for me
To understand her.
They burn with light
That I can't feel,
But I remember
From somewhere.
It's still there.

And if I stare back long enough,
But not too long, you understand,
I recognize a piece that used to be.
And if I hold my mouth just right,
I can put it where it goes,
And come one step closer
To being the real me.


Pole cat billows across the green
His fur is all a spray
Of striking black and white pinions
That seem to defy gravity
And if he were a Jim Henson creation
We would smile and laugh
Instead of scattering wildly
Across the grass

It doesn't matter,
Your concrete,
Your asphalt,
Your railroad ties,
Your long steel rails,
Sad train whistle.

The wind still blows.
Flowers still bloom in their season.
Sky's still blue,
And I still love you.

It doesn't matter.
Summer sun cracks the terra-cotta.
Dandelions pit the old cracked sidewalk.
But this heart beats
In me
Brand new.

And it doesn't matter,
But I still love you.


Wednesday, September 24, 2014

All of my theories fail in the light of Love
All my philosophies pale at the sight of Love
All of my dogma
All of my creeds
Fly out the window
Fall to the knees
Of Love

Oh you can say what you will or you won't do
You can even say, "Well I never," if you want to
But you don't have a clue
What trouble you'd go to
Til love flows smooth
Through your heart
And your soul
Bows to Love


Tuesday, September 23, 2014

I woke up blind today
Because of foreign oils
That got into my eye
And how I wished
New wishes
Back in time

Shift for me
You mighty hands
Turn the stiles
To match the day
I don't want the things I need
I want the things I had

But come and take me
As I am
For I can't see you as you are
And I will know you
As you wish to be

We pity the fat,
With potted skin
And cauliflower ear,
Collie dog noses,
And teeth that are missing,
Faces reddened by beer.

But will those on bottom
Be on the top
When the world turns upside down?
And will the lessons that meekened them now
Level the playing field?

And those who are last,
Will they be first?
Will the wise grieve over
The living
Or the dead
Or the misshapen?
And where will the last laugh come from?


I see the world.
It doesn't offend my eyes.
It looks like a framed scene.
But when I step through,
The mud and fleas and smelly things
Assault my inner senses.
I don't want them touching
My arms or face.

And then there are things that don't look right,
But they are.
They smell good.
They feel good
And bring a full awareness
Of love and laughter and real life.


Thursday, September 18, 2014

I watch the Sun's path in disbelief.
It seems to whirl
In a great centrifugal jitterbug
With the Earth.

I find myself in the dark ages,
In abject denial that the earth could move,
Though it is what carries me
To a destiny beyond my control.

I didn't want to come to this part of the galaxy.
And I certainly don't want to get out of the car,
So I'll sulk
Alone here in the backseat.

Ah, The universal dance looks fun,
But most of it's just illusion.
Venus seems to be coming near,
Jupiter to retreat in the distance,
But it's just retrograde motion.

And nothing is really as it seems.
We didn't ask to be born,
Or did we?
There seems to be no cause of death.

But someone or something has mated out there in the cosmos
And we are the ones who must go and be born again?

And there is not much choice in that,
So I choose to be a wallflower.
But the universe won't even let me do that.
It picks up my arms and flails them,
Puts my feet on its feet
And hops around
To some cosmic music of the spheres
That I can't hear.

And so I appear
To be having a wonderful time.

Or do I?


I think about you all the time,
Wonder things about you.
How your spirit braids into your cells?
What chemicals fire off together?
What ionic bonds are formed
That make you the unique character that you are?

What are the watersheds in your history
That tip the odds for this or that?
What is it that really makes you tick?

And if I tock occasionally
Will I rub you the wrong way?


Monday, September 15, 2014

As slaves for the Annunaki,
Designed for energy--
We have the capacity to do work,
And the tasks they didn't want to do.

And our DNA complains,
Shames us that we haven't done enough,
That our worth depends upon
Ergs and calories burned.

And yet the complexity of guilt
Compounds from a culture beyond our own,
Demands a seventh day to rest
Because some influential someone did that long ago.

But the Homo of our sapiens,
Native to the grasses here,
Doesn't feel the need to own or strive,
But simply to graze and be and replicate
Some forgotten aboriginal hope.

You could have been nicer to me.
I could've been nicer to you.
They say good fences make good neighbors.
But, alas, we didn't have a fence.
So maybe we didn't ever have a chance.
Maybe we could plead ignorance,
Or just plain laziness,
That we didn't bother to put one up.

But now that I am going,
I see you smile a wistful smile,
And all the time, I'm knowing,
That it will be a while
Before I'm gone.

And neither of us care to count the cost.
We don't look,
For no love has been lost,
And we will take the things that we have learned
And hide them in our hearts,
For we have earned
Both the right to privacy,
And the desire for it.


Sunday, September 14, 2014

The crickets' last hurrah today!
They climb the sunny stalks and say,
"Hooray! Hooray!"
They squeal over the last roses of summer
By rubbing their hairy legs together.
They peal an eternal kind of victory shout!

They sing of an unending glory,
An ever after happy story,
A life well lived, and yet, to be recast,
The best of days saved up for last,
Without a care, a worry, or a doubt.


Larry appreciates a good lookin woman
He raises one eye brow
And winks
Nods his head in agreement
And obeisance
To Beauty

And he's never heard of Emily Dickinson
But he would die for Truth anyhow
Just to be laid up in a cool dark place
And Ivy bringin down the walls

Folks around here think Larry is crazy
'Cause he rattles a mile a minute
And most of it is strictly unintelligible

But I say Larry's crazy like a fox
He knows when to stop in the midst of fast and fury
And tip his hat to some choice lady
And he ain't got time for no ugly women
Who ain't got time for him


Wednesday, September 10, 2014


So, I says to myself,
I can't talk to you no more
Cuz, you don't listen."

And my self says,
I listen.
I do."

So I says to my self,
"Why ain't you hearin'?
Why ain't you pickin' up what I'm puttin down?"

"Cuz you puttin' me down,

I just want to be so beautiful for you
The kind of person you can see yourself in
The kind of Love that perfects your very soul
You make me smile
The kind of smile that boomerangs and keeps you sunny too
And so we turn
In laughter
And great darkness
Knowing the Sun is always there for us


Friday, September 5, 2014

A Room Of One's Own

A thousand grey dragonflies
Hover my feet
As the Sun teases Shadow's play,
And green moss grows
And billows where he touches
The tips and the edge of the lake.

And the banks are full
Of every good thing,
Colorful stones and berries that grow,
But this is her place,
And I must go
And find my own.

And will I hear
The wistful sounds
Of the freight train's whistle low?
The clank of links
That bob against
The gate of your gazebo?

Will I remember the dragonflies
That gently flutter now?
Will I wonder
If you'll think of me?