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This morning before my body woke up
my mind was unleashed in a dream.
I was back in a classroom
at an college campus somewhere
in an inconceivable city.

Not totally unlike my actual classrooms
of decades past when the culture was in ferment
and freedom reigned
rained a storm of acceptance
beyond tolerance where everyone
had a chance to become great.

This dream was a pulsing field hospital
where healing permeated everyone present
where our combined body heats generated a sweet aroma
of intellectual and spiritual sweat
that transported each of us beyond
the confines  of our individual biographies
and stories of human suffering

We heard poems and songs composed
by students eager to learn from the oversouls
of everyone present there
students of every background imaginable
we were a single body
a collection of lungs breathing as one.

Thank you Great Dream Weaver
only you could extend my soul to the Universe
in one glorious magnificent moment
greater than time itself.

This old teacher was young again
in a mutually creative minute of sleep
regenerative  and artful
beyond the confines of flesh and blood.

Gratitude is such a weak word
for what I feel
now for this marvelous scene
more than any puny fact or actuality.
See me, this one says, see me, look you
in the eye, eh, thinking,

spring, the season, the greening of
the playa's ancient shore, east of me,

east of my evergreen valley, barely
any bare gray wintery bushes and trees,

flash of magnificence once manifested,
on the shoulders of the priest-kings,
infectious proud flesh pomp and
circumstance, watch the war
god-man made glorious in
storied, seen once,
not invisioned, imaged
from tiny feathers, adhering
to a topological fabricated
humming bird head
feathered serpent cape,
on a bright day signaled by the hummer
- see, I have returned,
- this is like heaven to me.

the one from now, same code, same init
see me, look, see, once this was the most

vibrant, slow mode, inspiring light imaged,

portrayed, cloaking the priest-king god-rep
more lustrous than any high summer
cathedral rood crossing patterns,
in undeniable beauty and artistical luc-if-ity

windborn grammarless, musical, meanings,
mid point, saddle points between waves
that reflect from hummingbird feathers,

indicating fair weather weathered the storms,

fretted not a second on the journey, yep
when I get to Pep's porch, there'll be
sugar in the feeder, two minutes later.

After I remind a mind is a many splendored thing,
but none more splendored in prophesy than making
sacred hopes formed from the fi NAND gated mythos,

whither men and hummingbirds mind meld, tune in,
to imagine the effort required, to tilt your head,

just right, to flash my muse. Let time pass.
Suddenlies and instants are cognates.
Ba-doom,  Ba-doom,  Ba-doom-doom-doom

In my weary soul I hear the drums
That mark the cadence of expiring.
The beat is irresistible
And though my feet are torn and bloodied
I can not but take another steep.

Ba-doom,  Ba-doom,  Ba-doom-doom-doom

The road has been a rocky path
With danger just around the bends
And bandits in the roadside trees
Notching arrows to their bows.

Ba-doom,  Ba-doom,  Ba-doom-doom-doom

Another day, another hour.
How many minutes are left to me.
How many more steps must I take
Before the drum turn into violins
And I am free to join the Minuet.

Ba-doom,  Ba-doom,  Ba-doom-doom-doom
Started last year, finished last week. I like it.  Has a good beat.
Tell the loved ones, how much you love them,
waste no time, and it's no shame
because if silence, steals your word
it may be lost, and never be heard.

Don't defer it, to another day
what you feel, immediately say
we don't know tomorrow, what's in fate
it's too far away, it'll be too late.

If you willed, know it to be true
it's easy to say, I love you
when you hesitate, high will be the cost
chances postponed, are chances lost.

When they are with you, it's such a boon
to have the loved ones, so tell them soon
before time snatches away, you or them
with your love unuttered, heart unspoken.
I can be a wretched fake, in private, intimate performance.

I’m an actress capable of imitating spontaneous pleasure -
by tricks of hesitation, convulsive vocal play and postures.

A mimicry undetectable to an immediate spectator.

Aww, thank you, I’ll sigh, as if leaving a good party.

“I’ve got a lot of homework to do,” I’ll add, a minute later.

To clear the stage.
a tribute


in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears, we remember well.

the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined, she remembers well.

so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill, we remember well.

its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality. for’er remember.

to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep, i remember well.


post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
She wears her *** like silk
Draped around her in translucent veil
Shimmering as she walks
In ivory , elegant form
She can almost hear the heads turn
And feel the men stare
As she glides across the room
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