The child of time rides the horse of space;
His mind can take him any place.
He'll touch the compass points of life,
And avoid the thinnest blades of strife,
The flower of mind will open wide
And pour out everything inside.

When you first wake up after sleeping
If you will hold very still,
You will realize that you are holding in your mouth
An exquisite glass form of a dream
Which you have been blowing all night,
With every exhalation forced out

And it is like nobody else's
And has never before been seen;
For each of us is like a kaleidoscope
And we include different layers in our glass,
Taking it all from within ourselves;
The exact parts needed for the form we are making,

Taking the pieces from other dimensions;
Things which might seem untrue in this one,
But are real as we can make them
When our dreaming eyes and fingers
Lift them from our waiting wholeness,
In the night time of our stillness

When we finally become one patent vehicle,
And the dream begins to grow then, like the smallest bubble;
A stained glass fetus of our blooming individuality
Made only for, only by us;
As fragile as any snowflake,
As ephemeral as any memory.

You've given me everything
I could have wanted; and also that which
I wouldn't have dreamed I could ever desire so much
You've answered me in your own way-
Everything I've asked of you and more
I never could have imagined how wonderful
You would be, even in your darkest moments
I've enjoyed with you things most people
Only fantasize about, and things nobody could imagine
I've had a special relationship with you
From the first moment, so forgive me
If, at the end of us,
I ask for more time with you-
And I know everyone does that;
It's not that I'm greedy, it's just that
The alternative to you is nothing I can imagine,
Nothing compared to your beauty right now,
O my world- everyone always wants more of you
Even though you're the soul of everything.

I am the soul of gods own joy:
He clothed me tenderly, in flesh;
Gave the island satellite as home
Where sense and impression mesh.
From the life of my days he is weaving
Indestructible record of mind
The coin of the realm is eternal:
No fragment of me left behind.

There are places it's not safe to go;
There are lovers, who don't really love,
Whose heart's lie buried, beneath the snow
Much farther; farther than your soul.

There are places it's not safe to go;
Where thieves would wait for you, just to steal
The moon's cool shadow, where it glows-
But till they die, can't ever feel.

There are places not safe to go
And secret storms, in dead of night;
And people who lie, and never show
Their face, in day's revealing light.

July 5 2010

I was in trouble again.
I'd just awakened our baby- again.
Most mothers want their new baby to sleep;
That was their most prolific time of day,
But not me; I was afraid.
Sudden infant death was known
To stalk new babies;
How could I be sure
Death wasn't stalking her this very moment;
Slowing her breaths, her heartbeats,
Taking her away, by one sly degree at a time
To the land where there are no sweet baby dreams.
That cry of awakening was a drug for me;
A reassurance. I needed my fix.
I couldn't stop doing it.
But babies need their sleep.
So one day, her father sat down calmly
And he told me,
She wants to keep living much more strongly
Than you could ever wish it for her,
Her being is strong and it has an incredible
Will to stay alive.
Somehow, I finally got it.

Years later, and somebody had to give me
The adult version of this talk; she was nearly grown;
You can't live her life for her, can't suffer
All her pains for her, instead.
How many more times will I need reminding-
How many more days will she live
On the outside of my body, instead?

I see that brick wall you’ve pointed me toward again,
A thousand times now, my brother;
Both with words and without,
In concealing codes and sly gestures.
I will just pretend to be walking there now,
And will circle that wall for a thousand years;
Even though my body fall down, my spirit
Will continue on in circles;
Even though my spirit finally wear itself through,
Like worn out house shoes,
My energy will continue to spiral, magnetized with momentum.

In my constant walking, my abiding presence
Will eventually become a bounding curse
Upon you and all your petty generalizations,
And I will ambulate the circumference of your limited minds;
Your little crime-seeking, self-satisfying standards.
My round bastions will deflect every intended wound of yours,
In dizziness you will behold my travelling orbits
And you will say that the I-that-is; that-something; that-somewhere
Has finally gone completely over the edge
Of sanity- but viewed from the other side,
I will still be standing strong and upright: unmoving even.

It’s not which side you’re on; it’s which can endure,
And your time will someday have to polish it’s bloodied hands
On my petrified reflection,
And your farcical mystery religions will crack and fall over,
Under the propellant power of self-doom.

I’m going to start walking now.

Would Life still love me-
Even if creatures don't;
Or would Love want me living-
Would it care about hurt?

If Life could love me;
In spite of all,
Or if Love could cherish,
Though I still fall;

Should heart keep beating,
While lungs do breathe-
Does it bear repeating,
I'm meant *to live?

I want to get so blind stumbling drunk
that the earth divides herself in twain;
and my half takes me up to heaven,
and then I want to go low again,
let the oceans sink me down into hell,
to drown all this creatures tiresome ambitions.

I'm dying in mundane status quo;
leaking icemakers and clogged disposals,
traffic fines and shopping lists,
car repairs and dinner guests,
and the endless wearing, wearying
wearing out the body,
wearing out the clothes,
wearing out the friends,
wearing out the soul-
need new shoes new wheels new goals;
need new gods;
I’m stuck in the shoals.

Pick a quiet spot
where the only noise heard
is grass growing old;
for life’s a careless happenstance;
that we should even be here,
dreaming forever our pick-pocket dreams,
one day this bubble will burst its seams
and we’ll go back to mute possibility,
where we’ll be filled up,
for eternity of eternities-

but down here, we remain half empty cups.

In men's clear eyes, there live the bravest things:
A hope that sings, as brave as any bird;
Though it should fly, through hours of glancing rain
That scarce has ceased, before it's song is heard.

In men's quiet thoughts, dwell hours of silent pain,
Though it wake you not, the minutes crawling by;
Like stately columns of soldiers, on parade,
The only shot fired's a lone tear, from his eye.

In men's bold dreams, are things not ever seen;
Yet mirror tomorrow's face there, in the rooms,
And flowers rare, not seen before on Earth;
But upon his least intention, they must bloom.

In men's most hidden soul, nobody knows
What ties the form, into his very mind;
Though it's the secret, central mystery:
Goes back too far, for anyone to find.

He said that he had a dream..

But living was getting to be awfully heavy
And constantly on guard’s not really alive
But we were all too busy going nowhere,
Knowing here's where we've got to stay,
Here where the earth, the air and water is
Our species gets one chance to find its way.

Mind the fallen, pray to god
That your burden not outweigh the sod;
Who said we've got to eke out the bare years
When yesteryear's one more forgotten day,
One chance to fail or miss your aim,
Watching one by one, as they each betrayed.

Never mind the slaughter and the bleeding,
The way it's rigged so we can never win-
Shots ringing out, as he grabs that railing
Falling on stony ground, he’s falling again,
Always the same sad story repeating,
His eyes grow fixed, and still we keep on calling
Him..

I sleep in sadness;
Or else sadness weeps
Weary and diffident,
Around the world, entangled
In morose grey deeps.

Sad in your gladness,
That I can't participate;
In torpors I circumnavigate
The whirling ocean, gravitate-
Would wish that I could burn.

Wish, to feel anything at all:
That love had me in thrall,
Or hatred made a mess
Of my well ordered senses;
Life: this just is.

Bite me or kiss me,
Wake me up; enlist me,
My dreams grown fainter than a wisp
Nearly drowned in status quo,
When all I wanted, to flame or glow.

There's no time
As life grows taller
Than a winter shadow,
And strangles your words:
Where did glad go?

I chase myself around a corner,
Find no one's waiting there,
For no one to grasp hold;
There's a vacancy inside me
It's colder than cold.

Hell's a moderate place, at best
Everyone's happy and soooo well-fed;
Watching endless hours, of a tv show:
Please set me on fire-
Don't **** me slow.

I'd already forgotten your name
But it wasn't like I planned it,
And after a moment, it came back-
Like a vague memory, of a long
Uncomfortable fever,
Being out of your head for a few days,
Or a lingering cough of several weeks.

It will always be there buried,
My sins never really forgiven,
My confusion unanswered;
The viral storm you took me over with
Just a bad dream, one of many nightmares.

Living well doesn't erase it,
And self respect doesn't heal it-
Even if I still had any of that left.

You are only the thorn I pricked myself with
Before the hundred-years sleep
Of numberless, uneasy dreams.

All nights are too long
When your lover's far away-

I chase the trains all night
The ones my thoughts are riding;
Hobos bound for anywhere but home.

Trains full of candle smoke
And down from comforters,
Trains mixing together a combustible dream
In their blurry eyed compartments.

My memory is westbound
My history behind me somewhere;
If I stay behind, I'm nowhere,
If I don't jump soon enough, I'm lost

I can't remember getting on at any station,
I never had a ticket stub
Nobody here seems to knows me-
Why have I always been afraid?

I'm the tear in a nun's eye
I'm the broken note in a crow's cry

The standing fall down on trains,
The sitting see everything swiftly pass them by
Before they can ring the bell-
I can see your eyes, out of a hundred windows

In every window, door and steeple
The faster, the farther I go, the more you keep up with me;
Haunting, like a vision
Soundless, like a dancing flame.

I sleep and wake fitfully,
Feeling the cabin vibrate-
Are the eyes inside or out now?

We can play like ghosts at midnight,
With the past and future;
We can pass through walls
As invisible as wind:

I'm the tear in a nun's eye
I'm the broken note in a crow's cry

Death teases us with the nearness of it's breath
Like when you look into a crowd
And happen to lock eyes with the one staring straight at you-
Even though you never saw them before,
And didn't know they'd be looking your way.

I wander past your outstretched arms
Looking for the other you,
The one outside my head
Who fills out all my waking dreams

When everyone's gone
Who will see the stars falling,
And who can give me absolution?

For I'm the tear in a nun's eye
I'm the broken note in a crow's cry-

Nights are too long
When your lover's far away.

written to Morning Song/Zero 7

On the ship of self we're riding
Somewhere we do not know;
We tip the doorman, pay the driver,
The wheels begin to roll;

Past scenery drear and lovely,
Past clouds and oceans all;
Till everything is featureless,
Beneath a darkened pall.

Still many miles we're riding,
As to the end, we must;
Unsure of where we're headed,
We must rely on trust.

At last the rolling ceases,
The doors are opened slow-
We find we never left at all;
The journey's in the soul.

Lovely eyes of a lovely soul
Faraway child, who hides in the shadow,
Was it you who loved, in your distant day;
Did you tell your love, did you find a way?
Lovely eyes of a lovely soul
Love lives forever, in the heart's echo.

Hands know love-
Clasped in beloveds hands; tight enough
Lips know love-
When the hungry other takes them; almost rough
Eyes know love-
When love's battered remnants lie everywhere
Nose knows love-
When it breathes that close rarefied air
Hair knows love-
When the strands mix about their face
Hearts know love-
When the body finds it; anyplace
Love shouldn't ever be considered rare-
When once you've felt it's form, so near.

A child would have his toy,
And a man would have his girl;
As brides must have their joy,
And god must have a world.

They're things that, made for each of us,
As though our name were printed;
And don't forget love, peace and trust,
By which our life gets tinted.

Though I think, we'd live on love
Alone; if things were short supply'd-
And just a slit, of bluest sky-
And breadth, of a lover's sigh.

Woke up, it was Saturday,
Looked out in the driveway:
There was the car,
On it's rubber-tired splendor;
Got behind the wheel, smiling
Drove and drove, for miles away-


Didn't really want to get anywhere;
Just wanted to go driving, drive..


Went to the meeting,
Wearing my best suit:
Took notes, smiled,
While I watched the clock above
Took names and numbers,
Told them we'd be in touch-


Didn't really want to get anywhere;
Just wanted to go driving, drive..


Made an appointment,
With my best lover:
Wined, dined, flowers and all;
Made love all night,
In the smiling moonlight
But I left in the morning-


Didn't really want to get anywhere;
Just wanted to go driving, drive..


Went to the cemetery
To see some old friends there.
Sat on the grass, and with a smile
Told them how it's been;
Nothing's really changed
Since they've been away-


They said they never really wanted to get anywhere
Just wanted to go driving, drive..

A word forgets how to write itself
A smile forgets who it first appeared for,
Everything and nothing owns this treasure-store world.

Tears sprout where laughter used to play
Everywhere are the ghosts of dry fountains
Which once poured out existence like a pitcher.

Who has asked for nothing yet received all?
Who hasn’t tried to go home to the singularity again
Only to recall that there is no center?

God and creation have no point of origin
This is why everything JUST IS.

An embrace down here is how we remind one another
We are the heirs of omnipotent cause;
Planets jostle at our lightest touch,
And at the knifelike sound of a scream
One galaxy cannibalizes another.

Everything we know is a single exhalation
In an endless stream of breaths:

Remember you are only breathing so that you can create,
And all created things contain the conscious whole of creation
Safely stored within them.

I can find faults anywhere;
Underneath the couch,
In that secret vent cover
That leads to nowhere,
Only to hide the stash
Of error and discrepancy-
Hide and Seek is the oldest game.

Once I hid my heart
Between a man’s legs
But he forgot it was there,
And crushed it thoughtlessly;
And though people shouted
At him; Be careful!
There’s an ***** dangling there

He shoved the whole thing
Back into his pants;
Thinking it was all him.
So now I play games
Only half-heartedly,
And I remember
That what you think you see
May not belong to the one
That’s carrying the weight.

Burn his words and letters,
Remove his touch from mind,
Forget his smell, however well;
Some fetters cannot bind.

Take his pictures from their frame,
Remove his dreams, before you sleep;
It's true the mind can be retrained-
But as for memories, those you keep.

If time were a star, lived only in your eyes
I'd feign uncertainty, before your bright surprise;
And if nights were gifts, nobody could return,
I'd pray to wake, upon your star that burn..

Shall I go to where no breath is
Shall I go, emptied of fear and desire
Mindful that I am not the body
Shall I go within a blossoming white peace
On a cool, tranquil breeze
Shall go, never doubting my destination
Go unto rest and fullness of spirit
Completeness that was left behind
When I took my first breath
Home, only there, shall I be going.

The dead breathe through the door of sky,
In echo'd dreams and prayers, they sigh,
For in graves desire has no feet;
Their burning dust mirrors life's defeat,
And shriveled tongues are ghosts at sea:
Unsung, unseen, invisibly.

The storms of mind wound sleeping flesh,
In clouds you see the angel's breath,
The child of music flies in space;
A shadowed flame behind his face
To touch the sun, in world's asleep:
And stone gods in their heaven, keep.

In their silvered wish,
My eyes can see farther than time allows,
And slow hands can touch a farther shore
And praying, there gently open doors
That a kiss still breathe
Where later futures die,
In the static-charged sky;
And into quiet depths,
Old dreams may bore,
To live out their lie-
Then awake, no more.