.
Grafted birds in uproar—
And grey moorlands a fog,
The cacophony of orders,
Even turned earth a slog.

Highest heavens, all one,
Seeing with truthful eyes,
Black and white eagle—
Clarifying the blue skies.

I drove you home thinking how about how much I did not want the night to end,
It was quiet, save for the ambient noise as we drove through the freeway,
I glanced over at you, your face, your thoughts,
a  mystery.
You said to me “Do you ever just listen to the silence?”
and then suddenly it was as if I was in a special place,
a special place I only knew of,
a secret chamber I retreat to,
and yet you so effortlessly walked into it,
perhaps you already knew of this place,
perhaps you already knew of the silence,
perhaps you had been there far before I had,
these thoughts raced through my  head,
I replied to you after a few seconds of reflection,
“yes, I do listen to the silence”

Sometimes, when we allow distance,
We can see the bigger picture much clearer.

The more I convince myself
That you’re not interested in me
The more I realize how genuine
My feelings actually are.
I thought I was clogged up
In overriding infatuation
But it appears that underneath it,
Something humble was growing.
The more I distance myself
From the thought of there being an us,
The clearer I see that
You are much more than just a crush.

And with that being said,
I’m sorry I treated you as only such.

Daydream, stare into space.
Maybe you will see a glimpse of the void, the emptiness, the infinity.

Maybe you will feel the rapture of truth rushing up from your feet to your head.

Feel all, feel full and complete, to the point it all just evaporates like dew under the desert sun.
And you are just left there with a dry mouth, a false memory of its flavor.

Maybe...maybe... you will just see nothing.

when our mind is full of great ideas
we want to write them down
yet there are times when we  discover
that there is no connection from our brain
to all the instruments we use
to transcribe our flighty thoughts
    to give them shape on paper, screen, or in the sand

sometimes it helps to pause a bit and reconsider
what we do really want to say  
    focus and concentrate
    articulate precisely yet suggestively
our indomitable urge to formulate
    the turmoil of emotions we may harbor
    our wild ideas of revolution
    the overbearing pain of loss and separation
    grey landscapes of depression
    attractions of dramatic suicide
also the joy and pleasures of deep love
    of unexpected friendships found
        where even angels fear to tread
    the happiness of our children
    the love we recognize
        often too late
    our parents have bestowed on us

et cetera  et cetera

the catalogue of our themes
expands through our lives
so do the challenges
of how to tell the tale

it helps to aim for clarity
we have to  let our instruments of writing know
which of our turbulently swirling thoughts
should earn the privilege
to become words
    and be communicated
to people who
    before they read our verse
have no idea at all
    that we exist

Formed in the furnace
of colliding matter,
from colorful dust we arose.
Our journey is timeless
and complex to the core.
Yet we bravely stand bold,
as we venture into the unknown.
Gifted with love and given
strength by connections.
Our Existence in itself,
a miracle to behold.

The night so long
ships calling
stay away
come

blindly pierce
clouds
anchored
at the waterline

engines throb
close, yet not
though eyes strain
soft white contains

merely
opaque outlines
shrouding
shapes familiar

eagles
materialize
singing
arise, arise

dissipating
melted wisps
ascend to kiss
returning sun

will illumination come
with fading notes
of this
fog song?

I don’t know what it was
That made my life worse
But I know for certain
What made it all reverse.
I stopped lying to myself and
Stopped lying to others.
I started treating people
Like my sisters and brothers.

I crashed around in life
Like a gorilla in a cage
A big, loud, mindless baby
Too infantile to be acting
Like that at my age.
I was full of self-pity for
What I felt how much I hurt.
I kept an inventory of pain
And treated people like dirt.

People kept saying to me
“There are no big deals!”
I heard the words, but
I didn’t think they were real.
There are big deals for sure
Like cancer, AIDS and death
So, how can you say that, with
Anything like a sane breath?

“God never gives you anything”
They’d say, “that you can’t handle.”
Well, I won’t give you a match
To light that particular candle.
Tell that to the tiny babies lying
Deaf, blind and sick in cribs.
Gone before they are old enough
To even wear a baby bib.

You keep that circular logic.
No. Sorry, Next person please.
This one spent a long time
Praying to nothing on his knees.
I have found it is better for me
To look at life as what I make
And what I do about it all
Whatever effort it may take.

Investing in coins under pillows;
A gift from the fairy that wasn’t.
Accept a life without Santa Claus.
Stuff happens and sometimes doesn’t.
I don’t do myself any big favors
Lying to myself about me or you.
I have to learn what to do with
What is really beautiful and true.