Summer rushes heavy with rain
When it was dry we cried
- "Let it rain!"
In sudden bursts after wildfires
The ground was churning out
- Wildflowers!

Autumn gently poured color
On leaves clinging to trees
That drop.  We rake them into piles
For into these we must jump
With faces broad with smiles, until
Then winter snow starts to fall

And begins to cover all
- Down-like
Dressing the land in winter-white
Among the young
And the very young at heart
The cry goes out

"Snow angels!"  Before the spring.

You have made mistakes, and
You've let me down in the past.
At times I have been
Disappointed in you deeply.

But you have made heroic efforts
To change and to grow,
To become a better person.
In time I have come to know

That I can finally trust myself.

When I see you again

I'll choke back the years . . .

of fears
of tears
of needing
of wanting
of not having
of not knowing

And you will explain
What actually happened.

An old and frustrated flower-child asks,
"Where did the love go?"
Peace, love, dope . . .

Why just yesterday, it seems
We were romping through beautiful fields
And reading such lovely poetry.

Where did the love go?  I am asking.

There is no malice
Hidden in my words
Truth be told though
- He is not okay

He is living large
Within his own mind
Back to his heyday
- The 1980s

But he is living it again
Where he was 'kinda' on top
- And

Had the public a bit fooled
- Wildly wealthy
Was the phony claim

He recently explained the
"one rough hour?' needed
- He's not healthy

If friends and family really cared
They would get the poor man help.

You are not above the truth,

You cannot wrap it up in lies!
Your lizard brain blisters inside
And you will split and peel soon.

It will be soon too late for you to hid
You’ve fooled yourself to your demise
And almost took us down, too, dude.

But your fools will be there, too,
To keep your insane self company
In da prison 4 da criminally insane.

I know it is the natural progression of things.  Certain plants only live for a season then die.  Others wither and retreat into a cover of soil until next year.  Some hold on as long as possible only succumbing to a hard freeze.  Although I hate the heat of summer I love the life it brings to the Balcony Garden which is waning already.

One thing alone could end my love,
When Time has stopped my Heart,

Though you have left me, here alone
To stumble in the dark.

Then, I heard the Raven say,
"Nevermore!" today.

On the dry and empty ground
Covered in stubble brittle and bleached
Nothing exciting could have ever happened
In this barren place.
 
Yet, there, beneath them lay clues all around
Pointing to the ancient just within reach,
By an inquiring mind who goes out to seek.
They were men of that sort on bended knee.
 
The wastes between the Dead Sea
And beyond the Gulf of Aqaba pleaded,
"I am lost, come find me."
So, they unpacked their shovels, brushes & trowels,
At the foot of sandstone cliffs and started to dig.
 
Together with the Bedouins, the group slept on
A ground covered in their robes.  Strewn about lay
Piles of black ****, byproduct of copper smelting
Beckoning.  So, they ate the unleavened bread,
Just as did the freed Israelites who were fleeing Egypt. 
 
But then, of course.  Nothing ever happened here.

This chapter is now closed.
Relegated to the last vestiges,
Foggy scenes through time's mist.
Memories can become happier,

Now faded and worn.
Time's safe place, fuzzy and warm
Is like a sweater that you only pull out
For a season then pack away until next time.

I stare into supple beauty,
Shudder Sweet Man
And worship Luscious Woman.
Hard feather, smooth pleasure,
Arouse heavy morning,
Tremble breast and glisten full bloom.

I took your DNA in;
It lay around my place.
I wondered, "Will I breathe it in?"
Will part of you become part of me?
I longed for that permanence.

For all that has been taken
I am receiving much more
The hope that has been delivered
I take it, but I give some to you

The beautiful thing with hope
Is as it is divided and given
It regenerates and becomes whole
Until the original hope grows

And doubles again and again
Like a cell as it creates its own copies
And doubles again and again
So just like cells, hope will divide until

There is more than enough to share

He was 3; issued a blanket,
It too was part of the property.
As I move into this thought
Africa becomes a coast.
I do not know it. Sandy or rock?
My mind moves into the forest,
My heart, into a village.
A toddler clings to the robe covering
The dark skin of her mother.
“Africa” the word is read,
“Place of birth: Africa”.

A simple concrete step, a stoop; it is just a step, a stoop
Until it is associated with memories of sitting, watching,
                             and waiting.

Watching life as it parades past; neighbors, strangers, cars,
things that are blown about.

All become associated with that well-worn act, repeated with
                           religious devotion,

Of spending time on a simple neighborhood stoop.

Among the shadows
Of the darkened room
In a reflecting glance
I see an assemblance
Of me
But it is no longer
A youthful me
That I see
I suspend a sense
Of this reality
In order to see me
The inner me
The real me
The encapsulated self

The dairy devil
Has cold hands
Pray it grabs your throat

Across the street
The heliotrope and roses meet.
Entwined they gather sweetly
Lovingly clinging in embrace.
Sigh.  I watch them.  I slow my pace.
If flowers can love as in this case,
Why cannot men of every race?

Different moments throughout our lives,
The passing of time, who we are changing
Throughout the years, evolving, letting go 
Are not unlike the participating self-evolvement
Over the course of living. Yet, disease takes away
These basic anchors of reality, time, and place,
And all the coordinates that we rely on
In every moment of our lives are suddenly lost.

I will look upon your face
And I will love it, Sweet Gentle.
I will love it, soft and tender,
Wrinkle by wrinkle.

We never know where to draw the line.  Do we?
Nor do we know when to expunge the mark.

And, when do we stick a foot into that closing opened door
Or withdraw it to allow its closing?

I say that lines are actually made of dots and dashes.  
Make your mark boldly, underline the stroke.

Grab the handle of the door
And pull it open with all of your might!

I can smell the rain coming
As the Texas heat and humidity
That had me held like plastic wrap
Around my face and body loosens;
And the cooler air sinks down to fold us.
I can breathe, feel exhilarated, want life!
Then the downburst!  Like a cow relieving itself
On a flat rock, large drops scatter, loudly, until
The tin on the roof tinkles a melodious song.
In a Texas summer, we live for days like these.

If a thought is as good as a prayer

Then I pray for you often
Throughout the day.

You are in my heart and mind
In so many ways.

If a thought is as good as a prayer
Then you should be very blessed.

Thoughts of you, dear friend,
Ascend from me to the heavens, themselves.

Thoughts are as good as a prayer, aren't they?

I will come that day to you
When you do call me out
And I leave my father’s house.

When you to me do call
I will give to you my all,
For a house you build I long.

And I will sing a special song
Which only you will hear
When no one else is near.

Sprouts will grow in our fields
And 'round our table, here,
Where all feel safe from fear.

As our children spring up like buds.

Crow at my window
Cawing, calling:
Come into the richness
Of the forest.

His call is tempting.

Somewhere, I may never have traveled,
Haunts my memory in foggy dreams

I smell the fire in the fireplace burning
I see the cabin door swinging

Outside the snow that had fallen
Lies melting, hardening to ice

Mountain air fills my lungs and exhilarates
With the smell of pine and of juniper and cedar

A distant crow's caw brings me back to reality
And I am suddenly in the snow at the door of a cabin

Somewhere I may never have traveled to

Water, the same color as the sky,
Completely filled the pools of light.

The rays of Sun are want to try
And push to break through the bright.

Yet, languidly our time we bide
Until the pools are full of night.

(Throat-clear)
Um, me-me-me-me
Take that face off
Put it in the drawer
Tucker, you ain't gonna
Need it no more
They done booted you ****
Out the door,
La-tra-la-la-la

Into mellow fields, all manner of beings go.
The bird to gather bug or seed,
The workers with their hoes;
And, maidens who gather stands of wheat
In dresses that are blown.

To smell the lilacs in first morning light
Dew descending and shaking free from the tree
Splashing sweet infusions and splattering on me.

Even the fog rising is perfumed.
Fists full, I make my way back inside to find a vase.
A home perfumed by wafts of flowers is a heavenly abode.

It is a beautiful notion, but lilacs don't actually grow here.

You wild thing,
You spread your wings,
As you flutteringly fly away

Sunlight strikes your feathers.
And in such lovely weather
You shine like day.

I hear the little pitter-patter of raindrops
And listen for the sound of ice as it falls.
Raindrops manifested as ice crystals
With its delicate but distinctive sound
As the tiny bits ****** softly down
Like seeds scattered on the ground.

They glisten like slivered splinters of glass
Amid the fallen autumn leaves on grass
And magnify the beauty with shards of color
Glinting through accumulating gathered ice.
A foundation for a Crystal Palace in miniature
The beauty captivates within a time capsule

Of only one wintery day.

Bright tambourine shaker, where are you?
Shake over me, shake.  Fill this desert!

Sift the sands around my lonely oasis.
Dig up all its well-hidden treasures.

Come into me unfurled, unfettered.
Find the delights, measure by measure.

Searching hands seek to interlace
As vines, among a secret grove, this garden.

The arms of a mighty cedar, you 
Are still strong, though grown old.

Never mind that.  Come home.
Dwell here and stay forever. O, stay!

My nomad, become the vine that wraps me
By the heat of day and cold of night, stay.

Become my incidental canopy of full cover 
For your every whim and unspent pleasure.

I make the music, give the bursting springs
Within this isolated place of treasures.

Antiquity was waiting to breathe
And awaiting the moisture of lungs.

A hole, eyeball wide, offered just a peek;
Along with an ancient mote,
Which flew from eternity into sight.
Remarkable things were seen!

In the heat the buzz was slight.  
As was the bite.  But, ultimately,
The fevers started burning in the night
(For after all, the cobra had eaten the yellow canary).

How your coverings and remains sparkled like the sun!
Thousands of years of hiding suddenly undone.  

But, we all rot together, eventually eaten.

My granny loved Banny hens.
They are small but they can be feisty.
Just as was she.

I cannot hear your name
Without an apparent melancholy, and yet
I am indifferent to everything but your name.
You see my predicament,

I, causing my own stab to the heart, say
It over and over again.

You had completely satisfied all that my heart
And affections had hoped for or even wished.
“Baraye,” is a word meaning “for”
Or “because of” in Farsi.

Life can be so silly
In all its absurdities;
And the strangest of things
Can bring us to our knees.

Yes, I am strange, unusual see?
But quite happy in my deformity.
I love this solitude of mine and me,
And life's absurdities.

Early to bed
Never to rise,
Circling around a thought
That keeps me paralyzed;

Here,
In the womby-tomby
Safety of my coverings
I begin to realize;

I don't want to remain unborn.

Because
I can take a piece of paper
And write our story
To be whatever we want
And then dream together

I reach for you in the dark
The sheet is cold
My side is warm
Amidst star-shine through
The curtain, a light
Which only illuminates
The sparkle of my tears

His ex tried to warn me;

He was a serial monogamist.
Love would always die,
Truth be told, he killed it.

A leap of faith would be required,
After years of painful memories of first love
I thought I'd take a chance and step off.

It was almost my last leap!
How was I to know that I was jumping
Into the arms of a fool?

I glanced out and there he was
Sleeping like a bug in a rug
On the hard cement ledge.

Where has he been, my homeless man?
Hospital, jail, a shelter for a change?
I was just getting accustomed to him gone.

But there he is once again in my purview.
Oh, the drama, to see a being always sleeping.
How could he have caused me such worry.

I love you beyond the moon
Beyond the stars

Beyond all reason
Beyond any metaphor

Which I could create
And then I love you still

Beyond the body and mind
Limits set not by man, but God

On and on, and yet more
Beyond time, tide, shores

Then, my darling, I love you
Beyond these boundaries

And back again.

When anger, rivalry & jealousy
Fade away we are left
With only deep-seated love
And with the DNA that binds us.

The thing within itself, yet, without
The eating of its own flesh in mouth

The chewing until raw
- emotion all

I see you consume, be consumed

You stand
Gathered together,

The lines of your branches,
The ink of your markings
Standing out.

On your grey-white paper
I will fill your book
With beautiful poetry.

You stand
Gathered together,
The lines of your branches,
The ink of your markings
Standing out.
On your white paper
I will fill your book
With beautiful poetry.

Many are the days of gain in life,
And many are the losses, too.

I hope your gains are many
And I hope your losses few.

Neither predator nor prey,
I lie here while morsels slowly filter down;
Loving every greedy minute, getting fat.

Like the breath of an infant
Blooming new each day
Sweet toiletries
Fresh fragrance
Life unfolds before us

Natural bounties
Fruit bearing
Baring flesh
Sensory experiences
Gifts given, again and again

Never prosaic
Supreme variety
All for me, for you
We must remember
When taking, to give