further into the wilderness
power at the spine base
low vibrations of water over stone
aqua skin-green singing opening
pink flowers dance in the garden
opening and breathing-  undulating
the slow breathing of the earth Mother
rush of waterfall and river
over stars and lovers
pink eyes open all around us
we walk forward and gently **** the future
kiss the goddess and she turns severe
in the river she sweeps you
the unmoving pillar is quickly toppled
into the cold embrace of the rush
lessons from the water goddess- levels and cycles
undivided soul reaching up for connection
we are flowers in the garden of delight
we are children of the fire and of the light
the sun kisses the water-  lovers embrace in the open air
we are the sun and the water
we are balanced in the womb of mother nature
we are order and chaos
we are life celebrating life
we are the universe making love to itself

Black coffee
2 eggs looking at you
buttered Wonder bread
morning paper
horn rimmed glasses.
neatly pressed short sleeve summer shirt, with a Fruit of the Loom tank.
work trousers and oil resistant black shoes
Old Spice, and Brylcream
Howdy Doody in the background
the screen door slams
a white Ford Farlane 500 starts up and pulls away

awaiting the sound of the Ford
wash up for dinner
pork chops, sauerkraut
applesauce
green beans
evening paper
maybe the Flintstones or Dragnet, but always the Friday Night Fights
late night visits to the fridge for a sip of Malox.

My Father does not believe there is a heaven, or hell
he says when you die, you just die.
But I don't believe he ever knowingly lied to me.
He voted for George Wallace, but he also Voted for Barack Obama, twice.
He served in the Army during World War II, and still cooks hash brown potatoes every Tuesday night for his local American Legion, where he also plays poker and most of the time wins. When I asked him how to win at poker, he'd smile and say... "Luck." When I asked him how do I get some Luck, he said "count your cards."
He doesn't want a funeral, no music, no wake, no one to say anything about him. He wants to donate his body to science. And cremate the rest.
He says, "shut up and let people tell you who they are."
"Everybody is OK son , most don't know it though."
"Never count your money in public."
He has a small tin on the kitchen counter full of twist ties, hundreds of them.
There are shelves in the basement full of canned food and paper goods.
Depressionites are always ready for the next one.
When my Father and Mother go to their class reunion, they are the only ones left in their class.
I asked him what was the hardest thing about being 95, and both of them said, "all of our friends are gone, all of them."
My Father is 95 this year.

Happy Father's Day Dad

*Thank you for letting me ramble here, I feel so much better. I am ready to have my eggs and coffee now."

ignore all possible concepts and possibilities ---
ignore Beethoven, the spider, the damnation of Faust ---
just make it, babe, make it:
a house  a car   a belly full of beans
pay your taxes
****
and if you can't ****
copulate.
make money but don't work too
hard --- make somebody else pay to
make it --- and
don't smoke too much but drink enough to
relax, and
stay off the streets
wipe your *** real good
use a lot of toilet paper
it's bad manners to let people know you **** or
could smell like it
if you weren't
careful

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

Drifting through my mind, resting, dust particles no one notices sitting on the shelf. Observe life through a fuzzy spectrum. Slam your feathered pillow under my falling brain. Cushion this sky dive with your silk hands. Don't conduct this silent choir. Things work fine without your general commands. Just watch. Watch the leaf fall, dew form, clouds cumulate. It happens so naturally. Us. Natural. Pure. Exemplary. This course is self taught. Traveling at a speed of self worth and Discovery. Fumble down your righteousness. We all have dirt under our fingernails. Lets play in the dirt, sand, snow. Get lost in our time zones. Playing the same notes to find a symphony behind your eyes. Lovely is the way you see this world. Come see it. Float like the boat crossing the canal. Taking days to cross a minute. Storms and coves unknown to any. Your arrival is so important. Come rest in the lions mane. Enter this habitat of slips and tangles. Intertwined in me. Be fierce in your passionate subtleties. Float with grace and comfort. Lets float.

If I could say just one thing to you
[and believe me, I am]
I would tell you to stop looking "out there".
I would tell you that you have everything you need.
I would tell you that you are everything you need.
Nobody can add anything to that.
and be **** sure, nobody can take anything away.

But you must share yourself with those around you:
your body, your mind, your words, your heart.
They are not for the PICKING. They are not for the TAKING.
They are for the sharing.
They are for someone to enjoy with you.
But lovely lovely love stop looking, please!
Release the pressure, drop the anxiety, ignore the stress.
It does not serve you.
It is merely in your head,
not in your bones.
Not in your flesh.
There is no "doing" in worrying.
There is only worrying.
And beautiful, that's not you.

If I could tell you one thing it would be this:
There are no rules that you do not make for yourself.
There is no time that you must do anything,
only times when you can do something.
Just opportunities that cyclically arise and fall away before you.
Did you miss one? That's ok.
Will another one come? Of course it will.
Let things come of their own accord
and you will end up happier than you could have dreamed.

There's nothing on the other side of that door.
In fact, you've already been there. You're there right now.
There is no lock holding you back.
No lock keeping everything from you.
You've got a pocket full of keys, and no locks.

Oh, if you'd only let me tell you,
I'd tell you everything in the world is alive in you.