white pettles on ground
heavy trees with rain present
path i now do walk

i see you in gold
intrepid on the mountain
and a person now

i saw a man waiting for a rat
to come out of its hole
so he could eat it

the snow was menacing but i
did not notice i passed by
no avalache ever came

standing naked on a small ledge
thinking waiting to drop hard
i masturbated and left

there is creation
of meaningless words and is
tempest manifest

the call of mountains
in my mind i perceive them
so much a coward

"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend VI "


I've told you of my many mind changes
Not just the surface dross, but the living
Core of the root. The blurred symptoms bending
My sight to destruction, the hate of ages
Thriving within, the tainted defenses
Of ego that burned pain with their weak soothing,
This I told you and more. The thorned purging
Of childhood's conjecture, the strength that is
Formed, sturdy and deep, in one days effort,
The acceptance of self, which slow but true
Did lift, this I told you and more. And the vast
Labors of molding the light and dark shape
That frames my world, now glinting a soft burst
Of love's color, this I've told you, and more.

escape the matrix
of your construction
a sad honest truth

the pure hallowed souls
of tribes children behind us
we stand resolute

they say and therefore
we are imaginary
blind money makers

reality the fictitious
truth moment by moment
evolutionary

electric current
of soul spirit energy
we influence it

with thought

i am the dog that
sees and wonders to the end
and writes it all down

i am rich now
see dog squirrel and rabbit
huddled together

pain and problem fall
into mind separate slow
we realize truth

i saw a small bird
it did not see me at all
i superfluous

you cast the writings
in the mists of time space mind
you are reflection

globules of satan's blood drip into
     our souls

(the lies we tell ourselves are
     part of our consciousness )

Habits, are not the self
Customs, laws, nationalities
       are not the self
Conventions, language, vision, taste
       are not the self
The rolling Georgian hills, the Himalayas
The western Rockies, the eastern Smokeys
The northern forested Canadian home of the white bear
The White Cliffed Isle, the frozen Red Gulag
The cities clogged with motion, the empty vast stretches
       the round, wet, green, globe circumferenced, the stars
       are not the self
The perishables
       are not the self

i hear you young them
i know not where you are at
i am one ear deaf

i did not know why
but i felt pain ignorance
equals hemorrhoids

if if only is
imaginary why not
stop playing the game

Why were the men of old wrong?
were they ignorant
No! what did they do that was different?
Nothing. Customs ah yes Customs.
What was is not, here is now, okay
i live here, if i lived there
Nothing would stop me from protecting
My woman. Nothing would stop me
Now. Nothing. I live here and there
i like it.

i see the stars in
your eyes as i dream of you
again my sweet love

what can never be
arrives in mind a brightness
and is seen by one

the best way to sabotage
success having unrealistic
expectations

tell me something old
as dirt and mountains and blue
sky    i might believe

when ever soft love
graces the ground of this mind
sweet rest so happy

i see a pattern
ten thousand years old
new colors new voice
same oh same oh
nothing new is here now
same oh same oh
see the past here now
same oh same oh

"The Body Eclectic"


Sons and daughters of the cosmos we stand
       touched together light vibrations
       adherent
Space emanating consciousness
       consciousness emitting space
       one cause
       without contradiction
Effect arises and becomes
       co-creator shaper
       and shaped
       roiling to laws
       self born
Gravity not other separate but
       one side view of me      you
       rock      the heavens
       coiling together emptiness
       to forms transient
       moving no stopping
       of the process flow exists
       wonderment continual
Words but crippled leprous fingers
       pointing tool only don't get lost
       seeing the path as
       God Journeys End Reality
Metaphors i write crafting melody
       perhaps some may hear
       this effort for my own progress
       to i don't know where
       a here now out
       of the mirror
In the beginning naught
       but the naught void
       not even rays
       clear light
       no need
       all is all in all
What is past present comprehension
       happens none the less
       human views unneeded
       for genesis gnosis
       that which is began
       begins
       omniscience fading fast
       under wavelets minuscule
       almost not
Bump bump cling bump bump cling
       physics births itself
       space time sentience
       primordial wisdom
       one step down up sideways in
       ten directions expanding growth
       nothing happening
       out of the ordinary
Miracle a name for beauty
       not comprehended
       i you we fish elephants
       star
One by one no such thing
       separate a myth
       invented
Oscillations stream genes
       now are
       before weren't
       again will not be
Particles particles
       ever new particles
       fabricate particles
       waves
Us the body eclectic

the beginning of
soul your question the strength of
soul is your answer

as a dead bird drops i fall into a silent place
with echoes upon echoes of mind moving itself
and i scream with the effort to speak of it
to retrieve a speck of the chill fire
to recognize and pronounce it a word
or shape of word      or confusion of word
to bear it into a semblance

the cold winter bite
i am tracking the prey close
bear killed i shall ****

what golden meaning
perceived when in this moment
is but reflection

there is nothing wrong
with human nature this is
just the way we are

large dead red dog road
flow the tears on cold young face
rain on dark slick path

"One Small Drop"

I gave one small drop
Of help, to someone
I don't even know.
To someone, I don't
Even want to know.
To someone, I don't
Even want to sit
Next to on the bus.
But that one small drop
Counts. And now, I know it.

dog ate the rabbit
i ate the rabbit bones and
**** they tasted good

i don't play the game
of what if or maybe
i fall into the day

i saw a vision
or reality squirrel
sitting still on grass

love is just moments
one by one each at a time
with conscious effort

this poet is built
on a barn of human ****
one of many ways

dogs of war growling
in my head another day
danger on a leash

there is peace of soul
wherever the heart wanders
no journey to far

free within the cage
consistent reality
freedom is no cage

the ever mind flows
out a human brain because
that is how it is

can there ever be
more positive expression
consciousness than you

the answers we seek
are within as the questions
that form in our mind

i saw the dog on
the road with
extreme mange

**** you you justly
neutered mongrel and the hand
that is up your ****

the specter was child
and they dreamt a mystery
i listened and learned