Where footling trees do grow
nature, apologies need not know
vistas look back at you with eyes of snow
stones, high meadows, and silver timber knots

purple lupines and fire-**** that blush pink
held firm in gravel hands meet lichened erratics
where mountain's complexion in eon's blink
altered antonym of greens and browns chromatic

Where footling trees do grow
clouds shoot over passes round
to sprinkle, clap showers or to plow flows
marmots don down and burrow to ground

seeds and feathers take to their wing
branches' memories bend to storm's prowl
with constancy of change born on this wind
brutes in caverns and caves utter growls

Where footling trees do grow
a precipice of nascent springs leap
into; pine, spruce, ericaceous woodland below,
to gush as creeks, washout to river's slow keep

dappled light and streaming ray divides
fall forest floor with lulling murmur flutters
there bridge a span in wood knock strides
where clinging moss rolls bread and butter

-cec

Where do birds go at night?
When winter's silent furies
turn Hawthorns white,
cotton light on ground and grade.

Where do birds sleep till dawn
while pillowing clouds, twice height,
slumber across this evening sky.

Where do birds go to dream?
Swirling, feathered flurries,
to shiver off frostbite extreme.

Then upon a morning light
to round and wakeful nigh
with muffled wings burst into flight
tree branch waved goodbye.

-cec

as thoughts whirl round around
of days to come, when actions go to ground

in fields of unknown poppies
what lies ahead in mystery's Rockies

per chance to meet our buttered fate
or turn this wheel once more 'fore late

beat back raw monkey that clings to will
and spit slime's inertia in this blue pill

-cec

these winds have no chords tonight
drifting over a prairie of loneliness
knotting oozing thoughts of nostalgia
into tumbleweeds of emptiness

weaving darkness follows dusk
as incomplete eyes silently search
canyon phantasma in moonlit cascade
there fairy wisps of fog bank lurch

astride a hairy back enchanted mule
rides this only-monkey's whimpering
Shh-e, Titania, waits there for you
hidden among musk rose whispering

go falling upon thorny-hairy eared cactus
as time does stream disjointed desire
in this wasteland of a singular tactus
caught in swayed affections of heart's briar

-cec

standing straight at pond's edge, cattails—
brown corn dogs on ***** blonde stalks
several with cream colored bursting guts
hang below sky waiting on sail
there, a red-wing black bird clings
as Cirque du Soleil actor's acrobatic feat
trilling its own musical accompaniment

other cattails tilt triangle shapes
reflected side, angle, side complexion
over water's bottomless mirror
colored autumn, by shore's tree leaves,
mallard ducks, and brooding clouds
while black headed chickadees splash out
ripples of Impressionist pigments weave

-cec

All these poems entombed in a dying bog-

their death wish come true
mourned by poets in communion
dead muses in abject thread count shrouds
there lay Brute in his "et tu" tu?
there Cesar bleeds for art and politic
a writer's sword rusts in obscure earth

though here, among Himalayan thorns
blossom greens and early orange berries
plucked by blue birds and titmouse
scratching foot-tiny script onto tree moss
read by a literal sway of conscious antenna
archived in depths of a comatose cosmos

-cec

route number nine
we traveled your spine
over two lane vertebra
an occasional scoliotic stray

pass farmer hands in fields
on tractors of painted steel
labored maze rows to feed cattle:
chattel

windowed wind in evening's chatter
filtered light, komorebi, back matter
natural at fifty miles an hour
time melting spills of roadside flowers

and press of an orange-red moon
you unwrap its butterscotch rune
full of eons of seeing eyes, candy store watch
its popcorn face staring, tick-tock

then high-beams replace the sun's
intervals of lightning bug reflectors
into dark, deer vision, tunnel turns
and newly oiled ticking blacktop

distant into day's finish, night
journey's last braking bights
in memories gloaming sight
of a rural tale spin write

-cec

Walking the dog
is more than a yo-yo trick-
More than a water-logged stick
thrown far into a steel colored lake
Watching as a circling hound
paddling *******, as it wakes
intent legs cycling beneath surface tensions
not far removed from floating penchant
tries to suss out submerged desires
jettison old interest in new branch
mesmerized by miraculous hand magic
amending a perplexed carte blanche
turning in furtive swim back to shore
and wringing out a backbone shake
honest eyed and loyal told
mute but for a movement's bent arch

-cec

Love these worn wrinkle's age
earned in life's forest fire sun
or leave it alone as that dead racoon
its highway flat back, glass eye staring
It's a Thursday stubble face resign
from a razor's kiss no longer matters
A foggy focused boiling whistle morning
thinking of a cup-a-joey for rattle's sake
all jitters and back o'-da-bus crush
Tell, this is not all or much chronicle
but a listen to sun baked cones
snap, crackle or popping verse
Nature's song as increasing ring count
untangling a dance of season's purse
paid Piper tweets in highest branches
straws up this inner sap and sighs

≈ cec

waking morning comes home
arising to dawn's dimmer light
where curtained clouds roam
off maritime journey's might

rattles from tail's end of evening
penetrate this dreamer's calm
prompts morning's early weaning
from slumber acres balm

turn these covers open eyed
let soft fantasies vaporize
tuned to moment's assembling blocks
auguring dayspring's destined docks

-cec

This high desert thirst of solitary longing -
marooned on dunes of sculpted torsos
feelings twisting in dust-devil soaring
attuned to sifting sand's mirage overflow  

In an hour's glass a toast to pairs anywhere
than here in singular uninhabited thoughts
raised voices to a three penny opera choir
that a Deus ex machina will free hearts caught

Quench these passion's villains, angels, human maul
strip this mannequin's stupor, reveal its living form
bring your hands and sooth with scented oil, brow
hold this lover's vow, and keep an evening's warmth

-cec

Canada's Loonie
Royal coin
Gavidae in hand

-cec

Traveling in rising walking strings
you stretch out these soulful sinews
and tune your mandolins of song
of seasons and tall waves on deep
whaling, wailing a home longing
in lungs breathing for both of us
on traditional barks and harbor docks
wanting, waiting, wanting
pickity passion's dancing flocks
of ******'s doves to prompt
voices aimed at golden gates

-cec

This translation machine is broken-
trying to say love and it says hate
put in a phrase of friendship tokens
and it levels one at hell's gate

"New-Speak" and Homeland insecurities
una máquina rota, spells of discontent
What breaks borders other language;
Is it bred of complacent, lazy lengua ?

Languishing in privileged syllables
boiling over rice stew vocabularies
slamming with a hip-go spiritual
trying to make sadza in this crucible

This hairpin empire vomits convolutions
history, her-story, suffer culture's debt
education's deficit mouths a babble revolution
while a classicist argument tattles future threats

Talk a tale of totem's gift in parable or song
spill some beans and climb a stalk up a golden path
Give tongue your peace with liberal speech along
while some may grunt we sing a verdant poem

-cec



sadza - in Shona, Ugali in East Africa, is a cooked cornmeal that is the staple food in Zimbabwe and other parts of southern and eastern Africa. This food is cooked widely in other countries of the region. Sadza in appearance is a thickened porridge.

Warm torrents of rain utter best, eaves broken gutters
in hot summer with rumbling thunder asunder
naked but for cutoff jeans and purple Chinese houses
Let loose rally cry,  a primal voice of joy and freedom
summer has come to heart and bird call nous
slip and slides, running fearless of lightning strike news
Zeus, parts clouds to spy one eyed in appointed winds
aiming at those that would hesitate under Lindon trees
sensing a prodigal fragrance and mother crow's riot
open fields near dense privet hedges defy revelry
baked erratics by cold lakes and deep dives not taken
while a boat's buoyancy sends balance a mysterious cue
water's lumbering Leviathan body ripples to its caress
breezes take up names; sweet, cool, muggy mosquito
and in even' time porch light lowered voices loll

-cec

a smooth stone skipped once, twice
would there be a third kiss more
how that sun beam followed
each ripple's glittering diamond eye
inverting, reverting that perfect flight
to plunge into this day's memories, hallowed
watched by flying fish and twisting mermaids
holding out fin and fingers to touch a miracle
now sunk to rest in depth's lobster dream
following one, two, more, in bottom lines
marching to an unknown destiny of instinct's embrace

-cec

Oh! How beautiful her fair hair–
that these pains now suffer
each groan of this wheel pair
stretch each sinew's spiny puffer

Swift and potent speak in tongue
charmed to have her eat the apple
then lay beside her having sprung
stung, and breach our lady's chapel

**** this manic searing ghost
leave these broken bones and loss
bleeding tears of fable boast
pleading for a nimble dōss


Now upon this lying rack
chains clink and crack this back
Alack, to be found in wormwood's hands
plans, impoverished, crushed by mice-men

Oh! How beautiful her hair
to find oneself in this despair
for having false toad tail
from darkest pits and blacken flair

-cec

Son-
Sadness and happiness
in this Land of Liars;
a poem (just for you).
With a head on a *Corduroy Pillow
They Called Her Earth
The 'Greatest Poet Alive';
Surfing a Flying Saucer While Memorizing, Hagakure.
The Scars From Your Fingertips
smacks of a Heavy Metal Romeo:
a Win-win, since
There Are Plenty of fish in the Sea.
flame on; poets//liars-
write your Six Word Story,
Your Chocolate Poems,
Untitled.
Winds of Change
though Always Mama's Baby,
because i still love you,
our, My Life Is A Gift
Casting shadows,
in Summer Rain.

Kismet.

A Carved tree and No Dominion
A Stage; Twice A Week The Winter Thorough-
fair! The Greek Boy, son, Conceptualize This:
A Crush, love, Used, ***** You, and a Siren's Lament.
These are Confessions of A Hope Fiend,
Old wounds that refuse to heal!
Feet in Water, In Need; She Was Poetry in Motion.
The only Consolation, To You, a Goddess amongst humans;
a Headache ...Orion (Faded Stars and Bittersweet Thursday Mornings).
It hurts
"To my darling wife" (Unintended)
this is a Reminder, Motionless Ancestry;
See You in the Next One.
10 things i have learned about myself:
The Gift of reason, aportraitofmylover,
a portrait of my lover.

Poets-
Stay True.
Do it again
Word of the worlds
Hell-bound, eccentric
You call it love - off the back of an envelope
this, You're my Tsunami
with the company you keep
Ripples
of What I thought about you, Unveiled
now in Wintertime
this Epilogue To Asolando
a Panic Attack, Journey,
Ruined by Mistake after
the Autumn Light
Mild is The Parting Year,
to this Silent observer.
Untitled, by love.

-cec

Simply, you are my friend
each cup of coffee and croissant
each lump of sweetness exchanged
distilling down moments of laughter
sadness, and passing silence

When cups are cold your hand is warm
your eyes are always there to see
in whirlpools of questions and conversation
no subject so profound or mundane
that you do not find of interesting hue

There we sit from busy bodies tangle
till sometimes closing night shift
savoring the upside-down time split
of days end and beginning, entangled
in each other's thoughts and chemistry

-cec

Blanc oblivion thinly beckons
where riotous heart requests accounting's debt
in solitary thoughts of Gatsby-born yearning seconds
across lantern's green light ambient water's depth

Mallet's chisel chip lines of marble translucence
ordaining Venus's vague and insubstantial essence
passing on near wings of plovers
shore's dashing burst of smooth liquid love

Spilled words all but mingle in measured metre
fleshing forth anatomy of a mannequin's naked plume
disposed to press black key fugitive figures
sprinting sandpiper legs from sand castle spume

-cec

Saw your light through a darkened window
a flickering ghost of silence and promise
In this night's clearing all things look shadows
obscuring our eyes, convincing our ears
running into dreams of freezing legs and arms
weeping memories of past, past

Know that winter lasts a season's vapor breath
as great wheels of life turn eternal fears of death

Then centered comes our compassed sun
In a field, by a hill, a mare stems with her foal
butterfly dancing 'lites on flowers of gold
as Flicker birds defy their gravity so bold
on Linden trees of scented summer

Turned whispering hours of a newcomer's fare
ventures chaconne's path of daybreak's flare
and harmony of morning chirps in felicities' care

≈ cec

awake, awake, the time grows near
when winter casts its net

awake, awake, this time of fear
where tyrants rule and wreck

in town and village people bear
as mud runs in the streets

our city fathers slink to lair
while villains rage and reap

awake, awake, the time is here
to hand and raise alarm

call out to heroes brave with cheer
to save good ways from harm

awake, awake, the land does roar
will make this sphere complete

our children's calls must give us cause
regain this garden sweet

-cec

A celestial charcoal, steel-blue line of evening, sets
as you, crescent eye, dip with a knowing mystery
over unbounded moss branches holding star buds' nest

this thin twig tree has shed its drifting leaves
and waits upon a midnight's sleep and dream
joyful tears of autumn giving winter bereaves

reaching out crooked fingers into solid night's depth
wanting to hold one more time knotty apotheosis
exploding in super novic streams of Vishnu's breath

-cec

Laying within the tallest grass field–
That yellow star's daddy long-legs
grazing with a warm solar breeze
playing shades of hide and seek
into a child's mind, full waxing
waking to an offset world
more than small discovery
that farms in grains of time and space
where ants prepare empire
beetles' carapace form beep their horn
navigating, root bound, primal paths
ignorant of overt oblivions to come
go with candy eyed curiosity
prostrate in solace on an altar of life
waiting to be found

-cec

Your paintings out of desperation, flowers
while your humanity reaches eternity's gate
sate with a knowledge and secret as you meditate
on final outcomes and abstract reds with yellows

Blues resound among your garden feathered friends
Jays near Peckers climb for daily victuals wend
and families of squirrel sense a coming winter's wait
whispering to a morning dove of mortal staring fates

This wind now clears green dying leaves that brown
upon the forest floor where footsteps use to own
as millions walked this way at dawn and breaking days
we stroll upon these grounds graced within life's ways

Those beaded pearls embrace your royal skin
and divine nature shows the luster light within
each moments worth is much as in a year
each gloaming hour falls within a twinkling of a tear

-cec

Skype died yesterday-
assassinated for Dialing M-for ...
broken packet lengths
severed heads and tails
pixalated mumble-jumbo
a photo swirling mess
Its popping tune buttons
scattered floor waxed bounces
your contact under a refrigerator's pan
gathering dust and spider eggs
waiting to hatch a time-machine message
a Pleistocene missive of steamy goo

-cec

MISTER BONE SAW —

black bearded with carnivorous teeth
lurking in palatial shadows
unfit for the news that make him
biting the hands that feed, Him

Mister Bone Saw

yesterday's trail leads to you
like a wounded animal's blood
dripping on an already red carpet
where you sit licking a fat photo session

Mister Bone Saw

presidents suckle your Old Scratch ****
while snorting sulfur with thousand dollar bills
up their snouts, twisting their tales of greatness
again, and again, and again like sixes in a row

Mister Bone Saw

time will shear your hairy back alleyways
place a sign and seal upon your lies and deception
even those minions who worship your coin
will find a sword of justice between their *****

Saw Bone Mister!

-cec

Eos woke an Argus-eyed iris
to start this day in birdsong
that pierced a sleeping silence
then sang all risings long

Square window panes did brighten
with light's momentum strong
a symphony, wind heightened
in poltergeist chimes which hung

As cool breeze entered gently
to kiss on petal's lip
while wings buzzed intently
took drink of morning's dip

In jumbled greens and pigments
this garden's watercolors glow
in natural dance of prisms
sharp thorns yield up to rose

-cec

this next month you will be dead
again, one year so far, far away
though still within this sanguine heart
you stare your love as always

your colored pencils drew an arrow
pierced a hole, one deepest yet
a life of colors formed its white tip
searing memories within its depth

recalled in fields where wild-roses sway
there catch past scent of once bouquet
cacoethes tears reside within the morrows
in dear reveal with eternal cheeks of sorrow

-cec

This dimmer light, morning star
far tells of journeys to come
across vast interstellar forests
and life aloft a streaming cosmos

Left behind those mists and mud
to climb upon a gibbous back
scale to heights' resilient blood
view myriad curtains of  jet black

To seek in depths of infinite space
a place, a home away from home
and if return does not retrace
then let these gypsies' heart safe roam

For in our nursery lessons learned
of anger, fear, greed, mistrust
their opposites must need be earned
as nature slings its stars to dust

-cec

Each day to live as though a last
sounds a crystal wind chime's blast

Moments, atom grains of silica and lead
melt into hour's memories bliss bled

Humbled into submissive psalms of love
dragging homeward bound this bag of bones

Alone, only in this day of next reflect
how imposing polished this mirror's affect

Soon to lay among stars and worms
perchance to dream a rooster's morning turn

-cec

Fire, Water, Earth, Air
Suspended —
between red and black
arousing over horizon
as dusk sparks crimson dreams

-cec

A solo crow's morning flight spoke
of castaways and solitary nights
on its wing tip hurried flight
and its mid-air broken croak

Recounting storms as eagle talons
wet in feather drenching dreams
cuts and glide through current's seams
drops to land on earthen patterns

Seemed within its bird-brain canon
day's release from hunger's pang
a weary eye on sturm und drang
to covet worm and bolt on cannon

-cec

"and death shall have no dominion"

Though dominoes
build philosophical ladders
with numbered dots
and endless time
in summer heat
long shots of root liquor
and an eye for
winning over love
death looks over one's left shoulder
and whispers a next tile

-cec

Their faces distorted
while bodies contorted
soon are deported
transported to hell

Painted dysfunctional
classic untouchable
labeled as fractional
migrant they dwell

Pharaoh's adorn
pharos do warn
these masses forlorn
narrow politics swell

homogeneity
sprung from Greek deity
democracy with fealty
a perfect union knell

-cec

Heart, be still your desire
she does not know her wait
you delay in longing hours
in consummation of this fate

each and every loving gesture
days observed of them and one
seals in searing branded texture
of a wound that rivals sun

self inflicted desolation
looking for a golden fleece
through these trials and tribulations
steeled to wander for that kiss

-cec

kindness bent its wing
to shelter those in need
in doubt of proper things
with speed of mending deeds

stones are smoothed by water's days
winds mountains do lay low
acts heroic pave the way
stem the tides of evening's woe

as sun does set to rise anew
these timely frets will cycle through
as night comes sure like morning light
so to eagles of our vision's flight

-cec

Rain upon this heart your love
a cloudburst of sighs and giggles
lifting up with windy kisses
wrapped in arms of thunderbolts

-cec

Winter-

Winds howl outside on this house
a frozen dream's stormy wasteland
Inside, an oven door squeals open
warm bread mouth-hums from taste-hand

Spring-

Melting snow rivulets thaw on roof
echos of wet hollow gutter sounds
unfold branches by way of raveled roots
where sparrows tweet-twitch 'bound

Summer-

Pine cones crackle a buttery sun
spilling seeds for silent ant brigades
while cicadas Doppler-rattle day's spun
bees' low bumble pitch in flower glades

Fall-

Dry flush leaves charging over others blown
crunch brittle ******* under boot foot fall
soon to silent rot in squishy mats prone
alone, beneath a thunderous rain squall

In Between-

In quiet dawn and daunting vesper's gloam
creeks and crows, grunts and moans
city screech far from nature's tones
with ear to ground, and round to home

-cec

Home sweet mountain greens
alone in thin atmospheres of love
sowing awe on heart's wing
soaring low near peaks above

Breaths to heal internal strife
a salve of pine upon the sores
chirping timbre within woods life
exchange a quiet laughing score

Surprised to see a dragon fly
so high upon this forest side
its plume in air do ease these eyes
soaring low near peaks of sky

To climb these rocks and roots of trees
scale these heights on morning's breeze
It's raw in life as life's crawl screes
and near end's top at rest in beauty

-cec

love gave one more kiss
it lingered with ardent lips
bone passionate jaws

-cec

She heard a noise bone deep
low, as a whale hums suspended
in space where direction is absent
sound traveling fast in currents
as her pen across a paper ocean
translates inky fathom denizen
into ears much as Denmark's old king
who wails his fate in nameless horrors
driving her to 'rocks in the pocket mad'
to stand and deliver her requiem prose
and passion for life in watery depths

-cec

Adeline Virginia Woolf (née Stephen; 25 January 1882 – 28 March 1941)

Beetles laid a nest of onion seeds
sprouting generations of wiggling tear drops
all metallic green with a daffodil hunger --
maybe it was spring's cold to feed

-cec

Some made oft' with William's skull-
Richard's feet in shallows, grave;
forced to lay a crooked neck-knave
by Will's deliberate quill and mull.

You'd think these men of infinite rest
would sate our time to jaw-bone
about cruel pranks and kingly jests
before alls' fate to join prone.

We raise a cup to toast our dead
though throw them in like baggage
and bide through age unfinished dreads
before ourselves are fed to maggots.

-cec