I learned many things from him ...

That the trackless path
is gifted
to those
who believe
That the distance
between thoughts
can only be connected
by words
That the idea itself
is worthless
without the thing
it expressed
That tomorrow
is no more important
than yesterday
or today
That the bullfighter
must never die
with the bull
still alive
That revolution
is the truest place
where death
is reborn
That real courage
is only measured
by the one
sorely lacking
That to love her once
is better
than to love
her again
That you must
when you must
until the bugles
have stopped
That worshipping
oneself
is life’s fatal
devotion
That the jungle
we chase
is the jungle
we live in
That the willingness
to say it
frees a willingness
to act
That each great new
adventure
begets a greater
new ending
That in the tears
of a stranger
bleeds the heart
— of a friend

(Key West: January, 1994)

The curse of the writer
woo’s angels and devils
Chasing the daylight
far into the night

Each phrasing an omen
of hope or foreboding
With lines that entangle
— in lost delight

(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)

There’s a lingering shadow
that follows us all
Counting each breath
each step till we fall

Its pall ever darkens
while just out of reach
Its voice heard to whisper
through mountain and beach

It sees every moment
both joyous and sad
Recording our journey
the good and the bad

And then on that day
when our fate meets the end
Its arms wrap around us
— our very last friend

(The New Room: June, 2025)

Through struggle
one can justify life
Losing the battle
enhances the view
Blood on the rails
all markings assured
Death as the prize
— recurring anew

(The New Room: June, 2025)

Writer’s write
Speaker’s speak  
(and never)
— the twain shall meet

(Ketchum Idaho: August, 1983)

Too much
of too much
— is never enough

(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)

Lighting Tomorrow

Memory’s
lantern
near empty
unfilled

Each night
in the darkness
to flicker
until

Your eye
without warning
a flash
unexplained

Forever
relighting
and fanning
— the flame

(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)


Shamal Winds

Lost
in the deepest
recesses of myself
And happier
than I have
any right to be
The hidden
regions
my newfound oasis
A Bedouin
convert
— home among the sands

(The New Room: June, 2025)

Infestation

The American Dream
becoming
a nightmare ...
Conscripted
by strangers
new thieves in the night
Usurping
our freedoms
embedded among us
Invested in nothing
but
— what they can steal

(University Of Pennsylvania: June, 2025)


Leaving The Noise

He came into
silence
like fish
take to water

The only thing
constant
his being
alone

To wander
the alleys
of quiet
reception

The noise
and confusion
for others
— to drone

(The New Room: June, 2025)