Internet
Text
Promises
of
total intimacy
and
total isolation
simultaneously.

Thousand
piece
Lego set
love lies
shattered
on the ground. ..

We gathered
At
The lighthouse at Piedras Blancas
Called by an unknowable
Incandescent
Calling.
Carpenters
Electricians
Bums
Drifters
Grifters
Women doctors
Professors
Rangers
Mothers of young children
Truck drivers
Salesmen
Rascals
And the occasional party crashers
And
Me
A poet and wanderer by trade.

We were called to the ocean
To see.
We didn't know why
We traveled from far and wide
To
The spot at the lighthouse at Piedras Blancas
North of Cambria Pines
South of San Simeon
On the California coast
To
The spot we were summoned
To
Witness the rapidly out of control growing
Of the white mass on the skin of the ocean
Consuming
Wasting
Inch by inch
Foot by foot
Mile by mile
Devouring the ocean
Cells out of control
Determined by one pure drive
The drive to survive
Which ultimately would cause
All to die.

The voice we had heard
Was mother ocean
Wailing to the
Sun and moon
And
Stars
For her offspring
She would never see again...

Breaking out
in
Bojangle
dances
in
the most inappropriate
places.

I
Poetry starts
Off in melancholy
Suicide
Preoccupied
With differences and death
Fidelity and failure
I guess all of us
Poets are a little depressed.

We lay down the bricks
One by one
To
Follow our path.
We put on our shoes
Our pants
Our shirt
Cut our hair
Looking into the mirror
Wondering wondering
Whose that stranger there?

Driven by hormonal storms
The door for psychosis
Can open or shut.
Chemo warfare dictates our moods
Immortality fragility
Days which never end
Lovers one after the other
In
Images played
Payed in time
Moving away.

Unconscious
Conscious
Who can say
The body holds
All the keys
Dictates all the way.

II

Then it moves on
To broken hearts
****** insertions
Gentle caress
Every fantasy
Every movie  played
Every Tuesday .

Fantasies and goals
Work that out
Some events and ends
Better ideas
Then realities
Hard to know though
Until it's too late.

Relationships
Commitments
Do I go it alone
Or
Do another do I really know.
Do I hide
Or
Do I show
Who I am and what I know
Is
Love my virtue?

Children
Offspring
Feels like forever
For a short while.
Hope and heart
Heart
And
Heartbreak
Knowing when to intervene
Or let nature take its course.
Do the best we can
And try to heal the rest.

III

Decisions are made
Some genetic
Some environmental
Nature loads the bullets
Nurture pulls the trigger
Nature versus nurture
As old as the hills.

On the periphery
There
Is
Sickness pain psychosis
And just those
For whom
The cultural games
Are far too hard
Too complicated
To master or play.

Bohemians a forgotten caste
Of whom we do reside
Stand outside looking in
Artists
Poets
Drunks
Arguing about the nature of nurture
Trying to find
The portrait
The exact word
The one last drink
Describing all of this.

IV

Into the oven
Alchemy waits
Processing
All
The past and future fates.

Immobile and paralyzed
Until in this suspended state
Begins to generate
The longing to find meaning
And create.
It all blossoms
And becomes possible
And you are riding
A
Different kind of wave
Running
Back and forth
Up at dawn
Putting your boots on
Even
Our sleep and dreams
Go fast
Until the work of our lives is done.

V

In this moment of reflection
Did I do what I intended
To do?
And was it all a waste?
And the final dilemma
Is asked
But never resolved.

Did I live my life with integrity
Or
Did I run and hide
From
My true nature
The phantom captain
Calling from inside?
Or
Do I collapse
Into the despairs
Of what might have been?

It brings to mind
The moment my mother died
As her face formed
Into that wondrous smile
Not only a last gift
For the living
But
A smile left
For a life worth living...

Like falling in love
for the first time
all over again.

My heart awakens
with our morning
kiss
My heart opens
with the meeting
of our eyes.

When wrapped
up in your arms
finally home again
and deep inside
an all encompassing sigh.

Our love returns
strong
with the freight train winds
blowing through the pines
ageless as the redwoods
across the expanse
of time
with the intensity
of
the ocean waves
we hear crashing from our bed.

Our love ongoing
our love renewed
our love
my life's blessing
through and through.

Our love a force of nature
a cycle of
sun and moon.
An opening flower
on a spring noon
night blooming Jasmine too.

Each time
we touch
tip to tip
it's like falling in love
for the first time
all over again.

Poetry starts
with melancholy
We are all
a
"little" depressed.

In
the spaces
between
words
is
the promise
of
bliss.

We walked
Outside to a cold winter night
Sky
To smoke
One last cigarette
You softly cried
I knew why.
We found Orion
Winter high
In the Eastern sky.

There is a dark spot
Within his belt
Thought forever dark
But actually a path
To the ancient ancestors
Of galaxies past
Whose light began
Long before
Our sun and earth and moon
Were born.

We smoked our cigarette
Wondered about it all
As we always had.
And on this night of farewell
And cold clear winter skies
Orion and it all
The only enormity
Matched
Was this moment of our love
And
Our last goodbye.

Writing Poetry
for me
is
Entering
a
dream
fully conscious.

I've been digging
through this dumpster
far too long
trying to get to the bottom of it all.
Slimey sweet stench
there's my first love
my first pipe
my last light
my first rush
my last gush
my first bet
my last buck
"the game ain't over
until the rent money's gone."

I am down a deep hole
and my only tool is a shovel
I've got that one choice
but to go
down
down
down.
Drunk and dial
Drunk and poetry
how did I get here
how do I get out?

I'm a spiritual wasteland
connected to no one
connected to nothing
My drug
My man
My woman
My casino
The rush comes first
The numbness comes last
until
death, insanity or jail
is within my grasp.
I do what I do
But I am allergic too
you understand
when I do what I do
I break out in handcuffs
jail cells
strapped down to beds
looking around
longing for my dumpster
and
what I might have found.

1st Step
12th Step
I've done them all
though the 13th Step
I liked the best
Sponsors have come and gone
Spiritual awakenings
have all been done
I am back in this dumpster
where I had begun.

There is an exquisite mystery
at the heart of it all
the internal shift
happens
an inside job
The 21 year old's first black out
enough is enough
The 60 year old
on his fifth DUI
going out for one more round.

It is true
I have seen it many times
Recovery can be found
Hope restored
Wisdom in these halls
Peace within these walls
The dumpster closed
and left behind
A ladder falls and arrives
acceptance and gratitude
combine
as they say
"One day at a time."

Time & Distance
Erodes
Friendships
Families
Flowers
Sad
we know.

Standing at the edge of mortality
is my work really done?
Looking over at the black abyss
what is one to think?
Time to find god
root for heaven
root for reincarnation
call for your mother
bring a flashlight
the black sack and that's a fact.

Standing at the edge of mortality
my hand over my brow
block the sun?
Too dark for that
Try to see better?
Too late for that.
The precipice stands waiting
and all those who once lived
forever gone
took that plunge.

Standing at the edge of mortality
waiting for the momentary mirror
reflecting backwards in time
highlight reels
lowlife deals
ecstatic moments
unwound in regrets
achievements
done and gone.

Standing at the edge
my children come to me
wondering what breath will be the last
too late for all regrets
all those
if only I hads
there is a tear for that
that's for sure.
If it could all be undone
to do again
what would one do?
These are the thoughts and feelings too
one finds
when standing at the edge of mortality.

But still here
another chance for us my dear
more work to do
on this side of
the edge of mortality.

Step Right Up
Puts hair on your head
Grows neurons in your brain
Makes you take a dare
Connects you with
elves and faires
Turns your fears and anger
into a rarity.

Step Right Up
Dance with me
Dance with her
Dance with him
Spend a week there
one night.

Step Right Up
Gets your expectations
in line with reality
no rejection
All your relationships
will fall into line
Everybody is going to be kind
You're going to jump for joy.

Step Right Up
Money Love Sleep
They are all going to come your way
Open wide
Stick out your tongue
Stick out your hand
Close your eyes.

Step Right Up
A sucker's born every minute
A hustler's a thousand words a mile
We're pulling bucks
out of our pockers too many times to count
Trick and Trap
that's our motto

Step Right Up
Smile
Dial
Email
Text
Promises of total intimacy
and
total isolation
simultaneously

Step Right Up
We've been schooled
We've become tools
Whose the fool?
That's the ticket
Your number's up
Step Right Up

Cast my line
Each time
into the unknown
with
hope.

Imagine yourself
a ball of wax
falling through
a cosmic crack
a ball of steel
both reflecting
and holding all that's real
part of a parade into a cave
chanting about monks
who in their trunks carried enlightenment
too light for longing
too heavy for moving
and there you stayed
what
would you really want to say?
And would it matter anyway?

Imagine yourself
a ball of wax
falling through a cosmic crack
a tiny Katamari
calculating
as you rolled along
picking sticking
lawn chairs, Chevrolets
dancing flames
poets in their heyday
accumulating
distant ideas
lover's lips
and strangers kiss
all kinds of suffering could stick.
Could you find your way home
or is this all you've ever known?

***** of wax could be real,
manufactured ideals,
splendid ribbons of illusions
unwinding and weeping
teaching taking talking twisting
through those cosmic cracks splintering
Relax
This is a a relaxation exercise after all.
Imagine your self a ball of wax
falling through a cosmic crack. ..

Well Annie now you've done it
through your gyrations,  characterizations
imitations
a spot of light of spirit
flipped out into the ether
like some kind of spiritual dandruff
all crystal prisms
twinkling stars shook off of you
and floated
through my eyes and ears
and penetrated and infused
my pumping heart
through my circulatory system
snapping synaptic changes,
touching those places
of
dreams and trances.

Well Annie now you've done it all night long
with images of Olive Oil
and no Popeye
I have become a sailor man
unmoored from the safety of the slip
dragging the anchor
until the tether breaks
and find myself floating
on some Jungian sea
of the unconscious far away from the shore.

Well Annie now you've really done it -
How will this all play out
when walking down the faux marble hallways
as I roll up one wave of imitation
and down another in
clients/secretaries/billing clerks
deranged psychiatrists stories
and all of this reality
grabbing trying ranting riffing
how is this all going to play out
when strange guerilla theatre
erupts on backwards
in administrators offices
and leadership committee meetings
when I spread my  legs
as my grand opening
in carrot top hangings
and turn to clients
offer them too
this spirit spark of
courage.

Well you've really done it this time Annie
when my door is locked
and pagers are begging for my attention
but I will be in the room at that desk
throwing rules, regulations
and my professional reputation
to the current winds of unwinding
truths and soulful stories.
When they turn to me
and ask for my forgiveness
in their true confession
or when I shift shapes
to the big onion
when everyone who wanders near weeps
when they ask me for that magic sentence
to make it all okay
or write a treatment plan
or
just a hand on the shoulder;
as they begin to talk
like rooms of old echoes-
I will tell them that will cost them extra.

You've done it now Annie forever
in my minute little world
rocked the boat
that spirit
like the butterfly wings causing the hurricane
of courage.

You've done it now Olive Oil Annie
I have found my spinach
and
freedom cannot be far behind...

There is a road
a narrow path
with darkness ahead
darkness behind
flashing memories disappearing
neon traces trailing.

The seekers of wisdom
a flash light in hand
darkness ahead
a Diogenes searching
for
wisdom and a wise one
knowing
this way lies madness
that way lives love.
Behind is birth
Ahead is death.

Pitfalls
Skyways
through the sinkholes
the marshes
deserts
the mountains
the ocean too.

Periods of walking alone
Periods of walking with you
Blindness fills our eyes
the dark it is
always all encompassing
as we feel our way along.

But you are the light
your life is that
small shinning
flash light
illuminating
each moment
of our searching lives...

Past
multi-generational
poisons
drip
forward
one
birth
at a
time.

Time or money
money or time
I hate this ****** rhyme
it defines our time.
Work sleep
sleep work
wage slaves
slave to wages.

Even renting space
in my dreams
stamp that
sign this
Get up and do the chicken dance.

Wait for him
wait for her
hurry up
you're late.
Wrong place
wrong time
a dollar short
a day late.
shoulda
coulda
woulda
An orca in a cage
all these cliches.

Time or money
money or time
I hate this ****** rhyme
It defines our lives...

I won't be passing through
this way again
I am just a wanderer
and a poet by trade
leaving my words which
decompose with the seasons
turning stars to ash along the way.

I won't be passing through
this way again
like the salmon
running upstream
on a dry river bed
My childhood came and went
adolescence and youth
too
lovers and moments of
being with you.
I'll never pass this way again.

My children touched my hand
we hugged with
I love you's
I tried to make amends
But we will never pass
this way again.

Like a drunk
coming to
like those last goodbyes with you
like all those words
I've delivered
in attempts to heal the pain
mostly in vain.
I won't be passing through this way again.

I retreat into my dreams
they've never been so vivid
all these wishes
striving goals
sadness laughter too
I won't be passing through
this way again.

The landscape takes on colorful hues
the perfume night
fills with
night blooming Jasmine
and you.
The sand beneath my bare feet
the birds sing
one last look
as your fingertips
slip from mine
and the bus
the plane
the ship
the car
The end of the song
the end of the set
the end of the day
and I am on my way again
but
I've forgotten to say
how much I have loved you

And I won't be passing through
this
way again.

I've been a wanderer
and a poet by trade. ..

The
Intensity
Of our grief
Equals
Our capacity to love.

Blessings they speak
In many ways
On any given day.
There is of course
The sun's return
After darkness reigns
There is that first
Breath the infant takes
The last breath
The old man shakes
And takes away the pain.

The each moment
Each ocean wave
Each snowflake
Each lovers look
Each gentle touch
Each sun at noon
Each son and daughter too.
Each child's laugh
Each joyous room
Each innocent mistakes
Which go right anyway.

Each moment of peace
Each moment unique
Each moment of hope
Each moment of you.

The freedom to choose
The freedom to refuse
It's within our attitudes
That's a blessing too.

This life is short
There is no doubt
The birds they sing
And though our lives
They probably don't mean a thing
The many generations
Come and go
Don't I know.

But in this moment so fleeting
It is blessings I am remembering
And in the many shapes
And sounds of suffering
That we can't deny
It is easy to miss
The traveler dressed in white
In the blowing snow
And so it is with the
Blessings
We need to remember
To
Know

You keep saying
You are coming home
I wonder when you are
Will it take the
Raging wind and
Snow for you to
Roll on.

You keep calling every
Hour to say you are
On your way right now
Dinner has been made
Getting colder by the
Hour.

What started off as love
Dissolving into sour
You are calling every
Hour saying you will
Be home right now.

You say you are coming
Home
I wonder when you
Are
Will it take some
Form of desperation for
You to roll on.

The wind outside is
A vaccum blowing
****** air from high
To low
Don't I know.

You call every
Hour to say you
You are on your way.

Olive is barking
At the wind
I am a child throwing
Sand at the ocean.

I am as helpless
As that wind outside
Blowing.
You say you are
Coming home
I wonder
When you are...

You can't see it
You can't taste it
You can't feel it
Or smell it
But it doesn't mean you
Can't sense it
Or
Know it.

A breeze of moments
A one way street
A steady river
Always the same
Always in a state of change
Only moves in one direction.

Youth and its expansion
Age and its contraction

Time swirls around us
Through us
Dragging us along
One moment taking forever
The next moment
A fading light in the distant past
No wonder of endings I think a lot.

Yesterday 10
Tomorrow 80
Seems like forever
But never really is
In stacatto bits
Of memory
Flashes
Lies
Some true
Some false
Some recovered
Some not at all.

Continuity of self and I
Until
We are
Eventually
Slipping
Into
That black hole
Of
Time
Like a galaxy
Spiraling
Down the drain...

What to do with
all of these requests
Some are blue
Some are red
Some are black
Some are white
Most are
black & white.
What's a person to do
When they are all
Coming at you?
Split yourself in two?

Take care of him
Take care of her
Run this way and that
Sleep at night
Wake at dawn
All the rest is
Take care of this and that.

We try so hard to be so good
What did you say
1/2 stomach
1/2 guilt
But bruised and battered
Is what you get

Your power shattered
And
Pushed out to others
Watching every word
Shaking and quivering
With every response
Did I at least get it right
This time?

When whispering low
So
No one can hear you
The people pleasers lament...

Resentment and bitterness
is the poison drank
in hopes the other will perish.

Forgiveness is a moment of
peaceful release
not forgetting
or unknowing
but a shifting
in mind
and emotions
a switch on
a switch off
a deep sigh of acceptance
A moving on.

But what does it really mean
and how to get there
from here?

Resentment
Bitterness
Hurtfulness
Forgiveness
How to get from here
to there?

These questions plague
my day
Dance through my night.

In a moment of light
I wonder
if self forgiveness
makes it all right
I realize then
I have no magic sentence
to make it all okay.

This unfathomable
human moment
perhaps there are no words to say.

But
Being loving
is that the answer?
Kindness
is that the cure?
Self-acceptance
comes in waves
peace in moments found.
Perhaps
in these emotions
forgiveness comes around.

When I get
there from here
I will tell you
what I found.

Meanwhile
Lightning and thunder
color the horizon
and flash towards the ground...

The
Third
Eye
Laughs last.

There is the sound of music somewhere
softly playing in the woods
or is it just a wind blowing through.
I've heard this music before
returned once more
a major chord
taking myself too seriously
I can barely see the mirror.
I've got to get going
But I have no where to go.

Self absorbtion rolls in on the violins
Surrounds me in
a jacket and a blanket
sleep invites me in
drowsiness fills my mind
but I've been sleeping far too long
and it is no longer quiet inside
as the drums and cymbals
richochet within me
and anxiety hums its edgy tune.

I can't unwind my mind
hyperactive but not motivated
unable to move
while the guitar solo
reaches high and drops down low.
Is that the oboe and does it know
a crawling wriggling
alien ball of
Medusela hair
has taken up residence right there.
In a distinct diva voice
she's singing my song.

While opposites play a single chord
a single note
When with you I want to be alone
when alone I want to be with you.

The drum beats so slowly
there is a weight on my chest
a blindfold over my eyes
my heart's in a freezer
my legs are paralyzed
the music is playing
the crescendo is coming
and I'm dancing again
to those Depression Blues...

"Where you now are
I once was
Where I am now
You will be."

What would I really do
if it wasn't for you
five minutes of *******
a hundred forbidden cigarettes
a bowl or two
video games maybe
staring into space definitely
agitation
internal *******
a spinning world
lost in my self
that's what I would
be
But for you
My motivation
inspiration
loving hand on my shoulder
loving eyes which
sweep us outside
to long river walks
by the ocean
within the redwoods
open spaces
the possible
many joys
many blissful surrenders
blissful tomorrows.

What would I do without you?
Implode
Explode?
Without our life line
soul to soul
Who would I be
What would I do?

This bundle of fears
This tangle of tears
But for you so dear
I would be lost
in this four white walled room.

But for you I
start the fire
in our morning cold home
coffee fills the air
My feet on the ground
return to center
and am found.

This is now
what I do
because I have you...

The rooster does crow at the break of dawn
but five to seven a.m.
is the hours of the dog
"Time to wake up"
Cheerful beyond belief
face in mine
dripping licking tongue
tail wacking the dresser
in perfect time.
Hot breath
not yours not mine
but you know whose.
Through the fog of the mind
knowing it won't stop
until food is served.
I am never that cheerful at sunrise.

Seven to five
the birds and rats
are in their time.
Squirrels chipmunks
deer
everybody working their *** off to survive.
I gotta go to work
Calling in sick every day
But one foot in front of the other
And I am on my way.
The crows line up
on the garbage man's run
The ducks laugh at every move you make
but you take it in stride.

The cows lay down to
take a nap.
But not I.

At about five
The bear comes sauntering down the street
tossing garbage cans
this way and that.
The best part of work is the drive home.
Neighbors come out of their houses
to watch him.
Power and hunger
a dangerous combination
But in a rare moment of neighborly cheer
even a cocktail was had.
He was big he was strong
We gave him a wide berth
but owwed and awed him
along his way like watching fire works.

Five to eight
The hours of the skunk
and you get very cranky
through the PTSD
of a mean and angry father
and tires on the driveway.

As darkness totally sets in
the racoons come out
making mischief on the roof
batty as the bats that flee into my room.
Those racoons
the more you try to
chase them away
the more they come over
to see what your doing.

You look at me and wonder who I am
Sometimes you snuggle up
While the night birds sing.

Three to five
D.H. Lawrence
called the hours of the wolf
when madness and suicide
remorse and dread reign
Blood pressure
at its lowest
Heart rate at its slowest
Breath down
Body temperature as cold as the ground.
Remember to not
take very seriously
what ever you think
until with relief
the sun begins to rise
and doggy smooches
awaken your time. ..

It was a doggy opera
singing up and down
the street
on a hot summer
half cut moon lite night.
Crickets frogs
night blooming jasmine
perfumed memories
curtains flipping in the hot wind
suffocating sweating sultry
with the windows wide open
the neighbors bullshitting
My eyes stare across the room.
I've been alone but never like this before.

Over at the bar on Melrose
Jostled and jammed
a pivot point spun
waiting at the bar three deep
looking for eye contact
a friendly face
I've been alone but never like this before.

The family is all here
each and every one
Going through pictures
scrap books of the past-
realizing in the end
your memory is a picture
with someone
getting your name wrong.
I've been alone but never like this before.

I come back home to my doggy opera
you hugged me then
felt pretty good
until I realized you were thinking of him.

I've been alone but never like this before. ..

The three compassions
came to me
in a moment of silence
during a dream.
Not a daymare
Not a nightmare.
But in a moment of
rare and splendid peace.

It was laid out
for me
in a single distinct vision.

Compassion for self
Compassion for others
and the undefinable innocence of
all existence.

I tried so hard
to do so good
in everything
I said and did
but
faltering, fumbling,
obsessed, and human flawed.
I had much to learn
about
acceptance,
forgiveness
and the live and learn.

Perhaps this compassion
never comes
except in moments
of melancholy
on a foggy Christmas morning.

The fire needed tending
the warmth of the glow was fading.

I looked into her eyes
I looked into their eyes
and where I looked
I saw that with a look
I turned others
into
objects, chairs, tables, rocks.
I saw a different glow
the touch of that
innocent continuity
in all of us
fragile I'ness
suspended in a holistic whole
of
joy, suffering
peace and fear
connection and love
shining glowing
light of life
within the darkness
of the universe.

The third compassion
is rather odd
a mandala.
Extending out in concentric circles
encompassing the
fantastical, magical
workings of the universe
the vast expanse
of space and time.

And my momentarily
conscious knowledge
of my glowing light
and my place
in
now.

I saw the temporary tenderness
of all existence
my heart opened
the fire surged
on this foggy
humboldt
Christmas sunrise...

Where does
This parade
End?

In this sacred space
People share
Their secrets with me.
They come to me
With their fears
Their rare thoughts
Their pleas
Their past experience
They share their secrets
All untold.
The say the truth
Will set you free.

In their eyes I am not afraid
To look
While others recoil
I go forward.

I surf the crest of their emotions
When others walk away
I go deeper.

Their words whirl
All around me
And in this heat
And in this center
Of the cyclone
Within their madness
I find peace.

Holding the fragile
Emotions in my hands gently
Remaining awash
In compassion.
A moments breath
And waiting for
From the tangle
A bird to fly free.

From the tangle
A bird flew free
These words were a gift
Given by another to me.

When ******* in the tangles
Rooted into misery
Doubt and despair
Too many thorns pricking me
Little paper cuts
Adding up.

Walking wounded
With no dreams left
to offer hope so free
I come to you
With nothing else to lose
And offered up my madness
Fearful of what you might do.

You had a smile
Of serenity
And for that moment
Peace came over me.
We looked at each other
In a moment of compassion.

Time for that moment
Stopped
But of course it doesn't stay that way-
You walked your way
I walked mine.

Perhaps we will do
This another time.

It is 12 noon and I have swagger
Everywhere I look is my domain
I can pick and choose
I can create a scene
I can walk right in.
My universe, so they say,
is under my control.
People even know my name,
Love has come my way.
It's 12 noon and I have swagger that even I must refrain.

By 3 o'clock my life is slipping
The moon eclipses the sun
The sun eclipses the moon
I see the hints of darkness
that was not there at noon.
I reach the ledge and hang swinging,
my finger tips barely grip.
I am sweating but I am holding on.


By 6:00 o'clock
I am on the Bay Bridge,
traffic jammed in
My electrical system fails
and I know if I stop I'm doomed.
I watch the brake lights snaking towards me
No control now for me.
Inevitable as Monday morning
My car stops and I will probably die on this road.
The darkest hour surrounds me now.
My eyes are blind
My hands are numb
My lover has left me
and
I am wondering what I have become.

Sitting now in this empty space
all furniture moved out,
only this rocking chair remains,
Everything I have been has died
and now through finding this meaning
I sigh.
I surrender and all longing vanishes
I drift right back into this moment
and for a moment my heart sings.

At 9:00 o'clock I see a light
I see a path,
I start to move.
Once frozen now thawing
my heart resumes.
The clock clicks out my time
in digital sequence and rhymes
I even feel a dance begin.

I move towards 12:00 o'clock
but this wheel has rolled down the road
and even though back at noon
I start again
but in a different spot
and singing a different tune.
There is humility in my walk.
Down the road I see three oclock.

Our love
Is the tides
Rolling
In and out.
In and out.
On that edge
Stay or go
We turn to each other
Go inside
yes or no?
Never clear
49/51%
Stay or go.

Our love is
The tides
Rolling
In and out.

No one awakes knowing
That today is
The day
That you're going to die.

Death doesn't
Call to confirm your appointment
(No calls either
Human or computerized)
You can't cancel
Or change
Your mind when you arrive.
It doesn't matter if you
Have insurance
Or
Promise to pay on time.
It won't ask you to
To sign an ROI.
Death doesn't reschedule.


Death accepts no excuses
It won't wait until
It's a more convenient time
Or have you check
Your schedule
Your bank account
Your ethnicity
Your marital status.
Death won't take
Your past history.

It won't give you a coupon
Bill your mom
Take a bribe
Or
Give you a referral to
To another specialist
On his time
Or for that matter his dime.

Death has no bedside manner
Won't prescribe you drugs
Doesn't care what your
Father does.

Death won't even
Look you in the eye
Check your side
Listen to your complaints
Or successes
Show compassion
Or
Give you
An empathetic understanding sigh.

Death takes no names
And takes no answers
Death has no samples
Studies
Or sage advice.

However death is like
Waiting for the dentist
Your turn is going
To come.

Sleep is called
Mini-deaths,
All of this
No wonder I can't sleep

And by the way
Death doesn't schedule
Follow up appointments...

If I leave this house tonight
I'm going to get a ****** and ******.
I've been playing it straight far too long,
I've been walking this line far too long.
Keeping a check on the freedom of my mind.
Oceans to the west
Tundras to the east
Stars spinning out there
Quick sand beneath my feet.

Wrapped up in obligations
disguises and costumes
fake jewlery
fake smiles
routines and rituals
Keeping one foot going ahead of the other
Too scared to stop
Too alone to go on.

Freedom to the left of me
Disaster to the right.

How am I going to find revolution
at this time of night?

If fire is life
than what are we?

The fire breathes
reproduces
and feeds.
It eliminates
and
struggles to survive.
It creates its self
with every touch.

If fire is life than what are we?

The sun our mother father
gives all life.
The stars a population of beings
they are born
they live
they die.

If fire is life than what are we?

We were sitting very quietly
on a moonfull Friday night
neither connected
nor disconnected.
There was definitely space between us.
We were spinning around each other
like two satellites
Eye to eye
mouth to mouth
but never touching.
Not angry
Not sad
Not happy
Not bad.

Enough was enough.

When like being shot out of a photon cannon
We took the endless ride.

I went your way
you went mine.
You went your way
I went mine.

Going our separate ways is never easy.
The distance between us
picking up speed,
sent us flinging
far far far
apart and a way.

When forces of nature take over
We can only take the ride
Like being on acid
there is no place to hide
The moment stands vivid
in present time.
You can't escape by even closing your eyes.

And though far apart
never so connected in our life path
as now.
I took a lover you took your own.
I took those pills
you nearly died.
I failed another job
you went on general relief.
You found a moment of peace
at the seaside
and
I found the space between words
the smile returned
I felt that bliss.

Together we hummed
"you gotta serve someone"
and
"every grain of sand."

The years they passed
and though a universe apart
when you spun
I spin
and
when I spun
you spin.

We didn't know where we were
until some one
found us there
we knew then we existed
right
where we were.

Until the pulls
pulled us back together
the galaxy
running down the drain
enlongated and stretched
time stopped for us there
in the blackness darkness
and we met
in one endless embrace.

When we emerged
we were sitting
there very quietly on a moonfull
Friday night.

"Issues
Are
Like tissues
When the box is done
You just open up
Another one..."

Had hit five hundred pounds
my wife and I
living in our tiny bunker of concrete
waiting for the food truck to deliver to our door.

The outside world had a startling hum
of trillions of insects which were
******* up all the air
we knew it was just a matter of time.
Darkness often descended
and all we knew was our hot breath
breathing on each other
in the tight small space
breathing each other's moist air.

The bunker was heating up
hotter and hotter
which meant the fans
were clogging up
with the bodies
of the insects
and
in my horror it meant
I would have to go
outside
to clear the vent.
Outside Outside
I had not been
For I can't remember when.

The encased cave to the ladder
the walls closing in
while insects smacked their bodies
against the sides
trying to get inside.
I crawled with suffocating breath
Mice rats bats
Sewage dripping
as the walls tightened
around me.

Finally a tiny light lead the way from the cave
to the ladder
which would take me up
to the top
where the vent was clogged.

I climbed that ladder up up up
choking and gagging and spitting out wings
Spiders crawling
On my skin
And my nostrils in
looking down
falling down in my mind
with each and every step
and having to stick my hand
inside
the squished and smashed remains
to find
the screen which  kept them out
and us inside.

I wasn't sure how I would survive.
Finally my task was achieved
and down the rickety shaking ladder
I went back through the cave
to our tiny shelter
and as I went inside
my wife
in her excitment knocked us over.

We lay rocking on our backs
like two turtles
unable to get up.

And there we lay
total helplessness
in our last days.

No water tastes sweeter
than that sip in the desert
No touch is finer
than that hand on the shoulder
when encased in loneliness.
No paycheck more abundant
than following employment deprivation.
No buffet more filling
than that first bite in hunger.

No more wondrous serenity
than when the pain
finally goes away
from your mouth
your back
your head
your knees
your gut
your mind.

No idea more stimulating
to a mind so hungry
than a poem which catches
the moment so perfectly.

No love more appreciated
than when awash in self judgement
No praise more received
than when lost in condemnation.

No warmth more soothing
than when lost in the snow.
No light so bright
as that first sunlight
when lost in the demons
of one's night.

No sensation so
pure as an open
heart after numbness descends
Compassion in hatred
A laugh when joyless.

A lover's kiss after betrayal
A loving look after the cold white wall
A loving word after tense stone silence.
No embrace more healing
than when you come home to me.

The receding waters after the tsunami
The stillness after the earthquake.
The peace after the warfare.

The spring flowers after the winter
The coolness of fall after the blistering summer's heat.
The wood stove so warm when the house is so cold.

No bed so content
No home so sweet
after being stuck out on the streets.

Duality Reality
Without our joys no sorrow
Without our sorrows no joy.

Santa came down the chimmney
I whacked him with my uzzi
Santa dropped his sack
It was filled with crack -
Now Santa he's in rehab
Grateful he's not dead
Sitting there waiting
For detox
To
Clear his head.

Love in
Love out
Jobs in
Jobs out
Education in
Education out
Youth in
Youth out
Unconsciousness in
Consciousness out
Consciousness in
Unconsciousness out.

You do the hokey pokey
You shake it all about
Blink in
Blink out
That's what it's all about. ..