Step outside
Walking slow
Cloud above
Sun below
Sky on fire
Rainbow

Heat relieved
Forest drenched
Dripping leaves
Thirst quenched

Almost dark
Firefly
Caught in hand
Letting go
Whip-poor-will
Bursting joy

Poem lines
No pen to write
Hurry home
So memory might
Capture all
I've seen tonight

Roaring breeze approaches
Freeing leaves of their raindrops
Left by morning shower

Too perfectly complete
Needing nothing
No wonder you were cruel
Each king needs a fool

You do not lack
You cannot pine
You have no needs
Like he who intercedes

All Present,
You can never know
Absence of a friend
Or joy at their return

All Knowing
You can't experience
Joy of epiphany
Or bliss of ignorance

Most High
You can never climb
A mountain or a Tree
Or hill of Calvary

What could you want,
Having all there is?
An olive mount,
A traitor’s kiss?

No wonder you came down
To wear that thorny crown

Waves on water
Hard north wind
Causing trees to bend
Driving **** across the lake
Then down into the mud

There mayfly nymphs do feed
On pollen seed
To fuel their transmigration

Seeking their ablation
Responding to the pull
When mother moon is full

Last week one could see
Across the valley
Through the trees
The sky was crystal blue
The air/light clear

Now the GREEN has come
Suffocating sight and sound
******* up the water
Drying out the ground

Warm air loving me to death
With its sweet breath

Cows chew on their cud
Sweet green grass
Entering their gut
Full of ancient worms
Fulfilling their cycle
This too shall pass

Just a week ago
Moisture in the ground
Footfalls fell so soft, so quiet
As we walked in churchly light

Mother earth was full
Until she felt the pull
That tidal call
Pulled into the canopy
By roots unfound, unseen
All to make the GREEN

Now the soil is bitter
As we make our way
We are betrayed
By crunching leaf litter

In the cool of the First morning
Wand’ring my own Eden
I am

The finger of God
Straightening a Trillium
While my cancer grows

Ever wonder
Why the broken bloom?
I heard the hole
Lets the light in

Tonight, I stepped outside
To get wood for the fire
And **** on leaf litter

The sun was gone
Almost/dark
Just a glow left
In the edge of sky

A bird sang strange
Basso profundo croak
A goodnight song
From fifty years before

It took me back
That lonesome time
Me just fifteen,
Changing schools and homes

I walked the woods
Shotgun in hand
Looking for answers

I would never have

You asked what was missing
“Is it the ***?” you said.
As though love were just kissing
And thrashing in our bed

It hurt to hear you say it
Did you not understand?
That I must pray-- not play it
My love be real, not rand

The body’s temple to the soul
So do not test God’s wrath
By mistaking as the goal
The thing that’s just a path

And there are many paths to tread
As you and I have shown
Charkras aligned made a true sign
That we two were God’s own

The bed’s a place you may embrace
In honest conversation
And feel the force of *******
That’s more than mere sensation

So when I say I’m missing
And when it makes me cry
Please know it’s more than kissing
And more than some *** high

Please know it’s about touching souls
and not just getting kicks
Please know it’s only heaven’s drug
That gives my Suzie fix

You wish to hear the languages you do not understand
The ones you knew before you learned to speak

To see and hear and taste and touch; to dumbly walk the land
To empty out, to make your mind more meek

And so you wander wild in woods, unmade unmasked unplanned
With rock and rain and bark and bloom and beak

You own surprise with babe’s new eyes, you know now why you came:
To know each thing just as it is; to never know the name
To **** the flower, to lose the power, to lust as you unlearn
To smell the earth, to die in birth, to drown in sweet return

Wonder in the forest lost
Feel plants fear the killing frost
Gasp, not grasp the all-around
Browse the forest’s lost and found

Try to lose the monkey mind
You must lose before you find
Brother bear and sister tree
I art thou and thou art me

Moving slow is not enough
To lose the lie that all is stuff
Wonder just how small you be
Staring up that trunk of tree

Life is death. Death is birth
Worm return to Mother Earth
None is better none is worse
Each a blessing, both a curse

The truth comes close could I but wait
And yet the time is getting late
I see the clearing up ahead
Where all the living live as dead

Things to do-must take my leave
Return to walls- goals to achieve
Miles to go before I sleep
My bidding bye makes Jesus weep

He touches me with that one tear
I walk back in and disappear
You ask how long must I sit here?
It took Mahatma seven year

you cannot love
from the safety of a distance
you cannot know
what you cannot touch

You cannot taste
full joys of her attention
She cannot love  
if you fear too much

so the time has come
to abandon desperado
to take the plunge
to loose the widening gyre

to trust her love
to hand her heart your ego
to make the lunge
into her frightening fire

What have you brought?
No more than I need.
What I have sought?
To let my heart bleed.

What have you done
But let me be wild?
Trust in a woman
Joy in a child.

You say you’ll love me always
but can that love express?
Inexplicably connected
we connect without success.

Play dates, texts and evening swims
You hurt to hear me now,
so one must find the reasons,
then things can fix somehow.

You suggest you see what’s best
by having stopped to think
of reasons why we must not try.
You sent me them in ink.

Head says I need less neediness.
Head says you need more trust.
Head says contact is much too soon.
Cold turkey is the best.

But after saying all you think
you ask twice for response.
and signify a little wink.
that takes my breath and sense.

And since you’ve left me senseless
and broken me apart
perhaps our love I can express
without my head but heart.

Now I know not of reasons-
things we can control.
I know love has its seasons.
I know I feel your soul.

I know naught that can be taught.
I know just what I feel.
I know there are no rules for us.
I beg borrow and steal.

And what is real and what is dream?
And how can one decide?
And when to stop and when to start?
And when to end the ride?

There are no answers in the mind
They harbor in the soul
How do I feel about time to heal?
The word “heal” comes from “whole”.

The soul knows naught of “either or”
It sings the song “both and”
It knows naught of right or wrong
It forfeits for The Friend

I see two trees twined in the wood
have rubbed raw one another.
I see them healing one on one
each giving each their cover

So if I ignore what you implore-
to give you time to heal
and instead of time I give this rhyme
that rings like your bell’s peal.

That fills the room like our first Ohhm
that stabs you to your core.
Let us forgive and let love live,
and row toward the roar.

The teenaged brown eyed seeker
Reads Elizabethan verse
Like an ancient incantation
To slake her ***** thirst
For her own Beloved
But the words seem more a curse

Why is it “Lord” and “Father”?
Where has Abba gone?
All that Kingdom, will and power
Turns the daily bread to stone
And the evil and the glory
Leaves her so alone

Lovers know temptation
And deliverance!
But must hold equal station
If they are to dance.

Your talk of my trespasses
And Heaven where Thou art
Your “hallows” feel like gallows
Around my trembling heart

Your words have left me broken
To shed my tears alone
For I can never love you
While you sit upon a throne

I just wanted the paper
To grab and pay and run
I had places to go
and things to do

But the guy behind the counter
had a funny name
so I took a chance and asked
“Where are you from?”

He laughed like earth’s first sunrise
And said “You gotta guess”.
I could not leave
unless I played along

His degree is in physics
But then he quit that job
So he could be
a gas station cashier

Taking up our money
Taking up our time
Taking us to places that we fear

Taking up our worries
Taking up our cares
Charging us nothing but good cheer

I wanted to keep playing
I didn’t want to leave
But there were people
backing up behind

So I said I’ll see you later
And knew that I spoke true
Knew I needed
this man so fun and kind

So if you’re in a hurry
Have too much to do
If you see my smiling man
Say thank you to Ebu

Sitting on the deck
Hot humid afternoon
Gin and tonic
Melting fast

A whisper of a breeze
Begins

Approaching thunderstorms
What did my Grandma say
Too much wind to be any rain
But at least cool air

I walk down to the lake
To see the show

The deep water has gone dark
Reflecting the trees
A green that is closer to black

And clouds too
More black than grey
With El Greco tumult
Making them boil
Like Shirley Temple’s hair

Some bird
A tiny speck moving closer
To ride these wild currents
As they increase speed across the open lake
Then meet with the huge trees on the far shore  
And burst upward
Giving awesome power beneath the wings

Ecstatic over this opportunity
He whirls and twirls
Others join him
They cannot contain their joy

Then like all things
This too is gone
Normality returns

But in those dying breaths I swear an oath
I shall remember this

Rumblings of expectation
Herald something crucial
About to burst forth from the blank page
Like Lazarus from his tomb

Words emerge like crocus tips
One here, one there
Promises of what might come
If all goes well

Stops and starts
A promising phrase
A natural rhyme
Become false prophets
Die upon the vine

The cursor
Wanders aimlessly over text
A pilgrimage for meaning
Nothing points the way

Like a vague dream
Snatches here and there
It fades into oblivion
And will not come again

One foot slow
Then another
Held in air
Settling soft on leaf litter

A sudden freeze
Stock still
Seconds pass like hours
Eyes, ears, legs
locked in tense suspense

trip wire
pin pulled
dog explodes
furious fur
toward the waiting squirrel

A rising tide of pink blush
Climbs the bedroom wall
Pries sleepyhead from his bed
With its siren call

This old man stumbles down
To watch the world awake
Sun tells the truth, but tells aslant
Across a foggy lake

I’ve spent my years and spilled my tears
Doing what I was supposed
Now time has come and time is done
And what has my life showed

One last chance to dance the dance
To do something worthwhile
To leave a mark so angels hark
To truly make God smile

But how to choose before I lose
When so much is at stake
All I can think is take a drink
And sit and watch the lake

It screams aloud that God is proud
What use meek little me?
God can’t prance without audience
He needs someone to see

Augustine said:  “Do what you will”
That is the crux of love
And so I sit in awe of it-
Creation’s treasure trove

I am not by conscience bound
I reap but never sow
No higher purpose can be found
Than to enjoy the show

An alien world is coming
So imperceptibly slow
We see it change only in memory
Frogs boiling in water

We creatures of the day
Mesmerized by the onslaught
Slow stalked by dark
Like by a lion or snake

Bats gyrate in flight
Aerial roller coasters
Flying blind with sounds we cannot hear
So much unknown to fear

Soon water will lose its soul
Its own reflection
The gossamer green
Become an ugly black

An empty void
Yet pregnant with every evil
That we diurnal creatures
Can imagine hiding there

I walk these woods
Wild azaleas, ladies slippers and sweet shrub
Bobcats, deer, turkey and bear
Towering pines and hardwoods
A cushion of straw and leaves
Knee-deep in some places.

I remember rabbit hunting here as a child.
Back then, there were still open spaces
Filled with broom sedge, honeysuckle and bare red clay.
Blackberry briars and pine trees no taller than my head
Red Cedars and hollies everywhere for Christmas
We always came and cut our tree here.

It seems an untouched wilderness now
But if you go slow and look closely
You can still see faint reminders of my people

Flat stones stacked three high
The pillars for a barn or house long gone
A stone chimney half fallen
Because bees have stolen the mud chinking.

The outline of the springhouse
Where they kept the milk cool
The hole where later, when they could afford the time
They dug a well by hand.


Rusty barbed wire growing out of the center of huge trees
A reminder of better times
When there was money to buy wire
And enough neighbors that the cattle no longer roamed free

A whisky still by the creek
Dug down into a hole to hide it
The still full of axe holes
Cut by the revenuers
When they finally found it

Irish whisky to grease the fiddle
At the barn dance
To make the feet fly in a merry jig
And to drown the sorrows  
There were plenty of those

The farm next door
Where the husband went out to the barn one day
And hanged himself.

Ditches deeper than a man is tall
Zigzag across the landscape like lightning strikes
Reminders of what they learned
That the rains would wash the top soil down into the creek
Leaving nothing to nourish the crops.

In the end, the government offered assistance
Men with book learning called County Agents
Men who knew how to survey elevations
And design terraces that still curve through the deep woods

It was too little too late
But farming was all they knew
So the farmers spent weeks and months and years
Digging and damming to build
Those little pyramids of salvation
To save their soils

They were poor as the dirt itself.
And now, even the dirt was gone

It was no way to live
Finally they began abandoning the farms.
Slowly at first, then an avalanche
They went to the towns and cities
Assembly line workers
Who didn't mind 12 hour days
Or amputations.

The farms stood there
Little ghost towns on every 50 acres.
Snakes and mice moved into the houses.
The buildings burned or rotted
The storehouse, the smokehouse, the barn, the chicken coop.

These are my people
I walk where they walked
I see what was lost
I cherish what remains

You asked me what’s my minimum.
The least I can survive
The fast to which my self must come
So that our love can live
Love’s math is not zero sum
I get more than I give.

The answer to your question is
My minimum must hang
In the place called paradox
Where yin turns into yang

Where minimum and maximum
Are two words for the same
Where one grows small so one grows all
To wax the one must wane

Where waning is no sacrifice
Because these two are one
And my retreat does you entice
To be all that you can

I try to hold my love inside
No talk no taste no touch
I try to give you room to ride
Out from my love’s too much

So please remember every time
You wish you had a note
You’d be rich with just one dime
For each one that I wrote

For each one written in my mind
Or printed on a page
But never seen, so love stayed blind
And gave your life its stage

To give you room to live your life
To let your hawk’s heart soar
Your heart needs space to make love rife
My heart knows less is more

Today I found three armadillos
The dogs had killed

They drug them home and humbly left them
In homage to the Lord of their castle

I got my shovel and carried them
Far enough away from the house
That I would not smell the stink.

I used to bury them
But the dogs thought it a game
Dug them up and returned them to me.

So I threw them in the lake for a while.
They sank like little submarines
I quit doing that when I started swimming

I walked by the carcasses yesterday
They were all covered with flies.

Today I sit on the porch
The dogs alert to some intruder.
They are very excited so I’ll check it out.

The intruder is a trio of buzzards.
The dogs are beside themselves.
They chase them off.

As I return to the house
I wonder about the complex webs of ecology.
Are the dogs in concert with the flies?

The world attracts. The world repels.
We search for heavens. We run from hells.
Sights and sounds and tastes and smells.
You bet your life. Watch out for tells.

God knows them all so we must lose
Must die to live so death we choose
Tear down our dikes. Let in the flood
Truly alive now that we're dead.

When times are good and there is rain
She leafs full tilt
Disdaining dread of drought

Betting on the come of future rains
A luscious jungle of gorgeous green
Swirling overhead

But there are no guarantees
If day follows day with only summer heat and sun
All born cannot survive

A choice must be made
Terrible triage
Children sacrificed for parent’s sake

She tourniquets her limbs
Newborn leaves scream, wither
Yellow, dry and drop to the ground
To feed the mother in another year

How can it be
That you and I
So different from each other
Still find ourselves
So constantly
Brought back to one another?

Why do we try
And try again
Despite the odds against us?
Why do we fly
And fly again
Like this moment’s Icarus?

Why do we cry
and feel the pain
that square peg/round hole cause us?
Why we do try
And try again
Like today’s Prometheus?

Because, like Icarus we know
The game is worth the candle
The sun we seek may melt our wax
But we’re not too hot to handle

And like Prometheus we know
The pain is worth the pleasure
Flying higher
Finding fire
There is no greater treasure

So we have gone
Repaired our wings
And flown again much higher
So we have torn
Our hearts open
To discover true love’s fire

And each attempt
To reach ideal
The joy is always greater
I know more you
You know more me
We are each other’s satyr

“Tis destiny…
(The Gods all say)…
you felt when your eyes his met”
For you and me
this work is play
God’s will, maya, kismet.

One morning’s walk there she was
A coral orange flower
Engaged in a staring contest with the sun
******* up the sap
Of the rushing water at her feet
Exulting with the orgiastic rapids
A shameless harlot
Flaunting her perfection

I plucked her

Held her in my hand
Walked quickly back the short way home

All was well
I was in control
Towering over her small frame
I would trim her stem
Install her on a throne of crystal
Satisfy her wants and needs
Show off my new possession

But the ***** betrayed me
She had tricks I never knew
Ways to show me
I was not the master

I looked down to see her
Dead in those few minutes
But with a smile on her face

I got my hair cut Wednesday.
Lynne talked as she plied her trade.
A kitten was born on her doorstep-
Strange how the world is made.

Online Lynne read that mother cats
often give birth at your door.
Coincidences abounded.
Does death abound even more?

If mother cats know about doorsteps,
do they know which people to choose?
Is a cradle worth less than a manger?
To save your life must you lose?

Lynne wasn’t supposed to be there.
Her shop was closed that day
That’s a door she never uses.
What drew her so far astray?

Mother cat had chosen most wisely.
No doorstep was better than Lynne’s.
But can one this young survive?
Are babes blotched with original sins?

Extraordinary measures
for extraordinary things are required.
Lynne fed every fifteen minutes.
Loving never makes one tired.

Lynne spent forty eight hours
wrestling with God for this child.
Vets, internets and eye droppers
saved it from the law of the wild.

Hope is the name she gave her.
Hope is what saw her through.
Stronger hour by hour-
Death had been cheated anew.

Now she is sleeping so soundly
with covers snuggled up to her head.
Lynne looks and loves her fondly,
then sees that she is dead.

So I sit and hear this story.
Lynne brings Hope in her tiny box.
The sight of her rips my heart open
Like a raft ruined on ragged rocks.

She finished with my haircut
ignoring all my tears.
Today I sit and write this
with the help of a few beers.

How can this have happened
Is it part of the Master’s plan?
Malt much more than Milton
justifies God’s ways to man.

my apologies to A.E. Houseman and his poem “Terrence This is Stupid Stuff”

I arise at first light
Sirens of sound and sense
Call me to the dock
Sleepy- eyed
I can’t resist
The love they offer daily

The slothful sun
Clears the trees across the lake
Burning off the mists
Dying cool breezes
Killing soft light
Getting over mourning

Remembering mornings gone before
Waxing and waning
Rising and setting
My hand shakes
From coffee or old age or both

Listening to the song “Suzanne“
By Leonard Cohen
I am reminded of old lovers
Each in some different way
I still love them all

Still thrill at the joys
Still hurt at the sorrows
I listen three or four times
And cry every one
I should be getting over them by now


Every person I touch
If only for one moment
Is my lover
The child I pass in the grocery store
Smiles and waves
As though he knew me intimately
Which he does

His mother smiles too
But differently
A tense, perfunctory smile
Tense like her grip
Tightening on his hand

She’s afraid because -Who knows?
I might be a pervert
Soon she will teach him
To guard his heart more closely
To get over it.

Looking at the wild shrub
I chose not to cut down.
The one the Cherokees called
“hearts bursting with love”
Its pink fleshy pods
Open to reveal five seeds
of the most outrageous orange

The shrub has several stalks
Only one is overwhelmed
with those vibrant fruits
The stalk that is obviously dying

Sacrificing its own self
To feed the fruit more profligately
The children joyously
Consume their mother

Have you ever noticed
The fruitfulness of death
The tree or shrub
That creates wildly
In the days of its own destruction?

Birth and Death are Yin and Yang
The end of each always
The beginning of the other

People are no different
They too feel the chill
And seek to find a purpose
Before they perish

It is then
They plumb the depths of being
For perhaps the first time
In their entire lives

Mark the profundity
The leering crowd hopes to hear  
In the condemned man’s words
Right before the hangman
Springs the trap

Friends and lovers all in one
Could such a thing be real?
Our rabbits cried then dared and tried
And ripped apart the veil

We lay before a holy fire
One “Om” our souls revealed
But when we stopped because of fear
Perhaps our fate was sealed
Like peter on the water walked
just ‘til his faith was stilled

Since then we’ve hopped, started and stopped
Searching for that “Om”
Two rabbits loped, two rabbits hoped
To find their happy home

We lay in bed and smugly said
Stopping that “om” was wise
Just do the math -the solid path
Requires such compromise

Plod round the mountain step by step
Don’t leap from Cliffs of stone
A leap of faith is too much risk
Half loaf’s better than none
Friend and lover though both are good
Relent and choose just one

And so we did -we played it safe
And this is where we are
Our love is cleft and all that’s left
Is this ugly scar

A text from you hopes just for friends
After the wounds have healed
Have mercy on our suffering souls
Let the love be killed

But having tasted friend and lover
To live with less than both?
Be satisfied that Jesus lied
Seek neither truth nor troth

I’d rather choose all win or lose
Einstein would roll God’s dice
On wings set sail or if we fail
I’d rather pay that price

So I will tend that hurtful wound
No matter how it feels
I need a lover and a friend
I hope it never heals

Oh I will not be constant
The pain is hard to stay
Run hot and cold ‘til I am old
Come back then run away

But though I can’t make up my mind
And it may never cease
I know that you are truly kind
Hope’s better than release

There is really no such thing as truth
For if there were
Then there must be lies

There is only that one thing called fear
If you doubt it
Stop and hear our cries

There is really no such thing as right
For if there was,
Then there must be wrong

There is only that one thing called power
If you doubt it
Try telling truth to strong

There is really no such thing as love
For if there were
Then there must be hate

There is only that one thing called need
If you doubt it
Convert me to your faith

There is really no such thing as life
As long as we all
Claw and strain and strive

There is only that one thing called strife
If you want to live
Quit trying to survive

evening comes by the lake
reflecting the cloud and trees
my mind also a mirror of all things

i saw the google car today
i hear the crane coarse cry
once and then again
he starts this time every night

on the dock
a man made four square thing
surrounded by its opposite
the water so unshaped unformed

a fish jumps at the flies
then another and another
there are countless ripples
too far away to hear but not to see

darker now
the redbird’s song joins in
that last of the day birds to sing before the dark

swallows in the air slide and swoop and glide

the crane again
each creature an instrument
singing to the dying day

but what about the google car
it drives itself you know
i called my aged mother and explained to her as i drove past it
amazing how the world is changing

the bullfrog has joined us now
and the bat replaces the swallow
darting ever here and there
i wish him luck since his meal is devouring me

but the google car
what is it devouring?
technology devouring man and nature

i sit here in the midst of wilderness
with my laptop, wifi card and cell phone
am i connected of just swallowed?

there is no car and driver any more
the car is the driver
or is it that the driver is the car?

the crane again
in the background the traffic of the interstate
so prevalent and ubiquitous that it seems to not exist

because everywhere and nowhere are the same
there can be no thing, no thought, no word
without something outside it to define it

and what defines us
our skin?
or are we now beyond that

with the laptop etc extending my reach
i can share all this right now
with just the click of a send button

but still something is missing
i wish a bag of bones were here
so we could talk

converse in that old fashioned way
like old men on the bench
outside a country store

what would we say, that bag of bones and i?
all this and more, much more
and there would be silence without discomfort
to punctuate the meaning of the words
outside to their inside
defining them

a tree frog joins the chorus
just for once
but i know he will not be able to resist
hearing again and again
how beautiful he sounds

night creatures now
my laptop screen am unresistable attraction
to the tiny bugs
beating themselves mercilessly against it

so dark now
i cannot see the keyboard
only the screen
and woe, i never was one to type
without looking at the screen

smashed a mosquito now
feeling so powerful

a star appears
but it is only a jet
coming my way

what is it bringing
to this cyborg scene
gobbling up the gas and air
heating up the globe

the night is so alive
sound increases
inversely proportioned to the light
bullfrog again

and now the first time cricket
or is it cicada
lying in the ground for all those years
waiting to be resurrected
like the spiritus mundi
slouching toward bethlehem to be born

There he is
On the side of the road
Healthy looking, as though asleep
A dog you would choose at the pound.

So why this?
Dumped like some too heavy load.
Good, but for blood starting to seep
Like sacrament onto the ground.

Who will miss  
Him in the trunk secretly stowed?
Some child who starts to weep?
Til told he’s lost – and might be found.

Lying kiss
“He’s okay.” her father vowed
Is this why he’s left in a heap
No telltale grave that might be found?

Come sit with me
Or better yet alone
Be a vessel
The universe one eye
A black hole
******* in sensation

Make no noise
Be unspeakable
With not just mouth but mind
Seek and you will find

Little ballerinas both
Tiny yet tenacious
Holding firm to their beliefs
With hearts especially spacious.

I see how they have lived their lives
As parent and as child.
One’s love seemed a smothering thing-
The other’s freedom wild.

Through the years how much it hurt
To hold each other close.
Tiny ballerinas trampling
On each other’s toes.

But the pain was worth the price
These ballerinas paid.
Through all the years and all the tears
A meeting place they made.

A meeting place to marvel at
That lies within their look.
The look that lies within their eyes
In this picture that I took.



Ballerinas Two

They came my home this Christmas time
far off the beaten path.
Two wise women, studying still
God and Grandfather’s math.

They came into my heart and hearth
with gifts of small expense,
marshmallows and chocolate
not gold and frankincense

But Beauty lies in little things
Like S’mores making stuff
and little ballerinas
who’ve learned how to be tough.
And so their gifts while little
were much more than enough.

They came and pieced a puzzle
bright birds on a log.
The young one’s neck I nuzzle.
The old one feared the dog.

We broke the fast together
partook of bread and wine.
Body and blood, bacon and eggs
mixed earthly and divine.

We watched the sound of music
all sitting on the couch-
three dogs and three people
in everloving touch.

I sighed he’d lost his first love
then turned his heart to stone.
Losing one was losing all-
his children left alone.

Then came this lovely lady
to help, to heal his lack.
With push and pluck
with love and luck
she brought the music back.


So just as art imitates life
according to Aristotle.
This movie resonates with ours.
Shall we unchoke the throttle?

Lean and like and lust to learn?
Let go, let hurt, let heal?
Dance the dance that they have danced?
Let loose?
Let love be real?

I’m at the cash register
Picking up a to go order
Making small talk with the hostess
Suddenly I hear your voice
Close enough to touch

You had to hear me but you do not turn
I look at you not looking at me
I make the leap

“Hi. Good to see you. Meet my friend.
Hope you are doing well. Take care.”
What goes unsaid says far too much.

You the independent one
Wanting someone only to enhance you
Needing no one to complete you

Me, with my holes to fill
Fill with someone like me,
Someone who needs me just as much

I pay the price, take the food, walk away
Unsteady on this new ground
Born in the earthquake of our meeting again


Each morning commute  
Every black car met
Makes false promises of your return

No sacrilege is love
That dies but yet remains
To nurture what’s to come

There is a boy inside of me
A most mischievous child
Who hurts his love, but most himself
He keeps the romance wild

He dwells in a land of absolutes
“She loves me loves me not”
All or nothing, life or death
A terrible game for a tot

His highs so high, his lows so low
Ecstasy and despair
Yet he’d not trade those two extremes
Less feeling for less fear

Because less fear would also mean
Less feeling of the highs
He hates but holds the horrors
That his heart might hold your sighs

He’s unsophisticated
Unsure ***** unwashed
His love’s too simply stated  
But he loves unabashed

This bearded one who watches him
Knows compromise is real
Yet in his heart he wishes he
Could feel that trembling still

And so they go hand in hand
A most unlikely pair
Their three legged race a funny farce
Still makes you shed a tear

How can this work? How can it last?
These two extremes in one
Can child be father to the man
Man child to the son?

Keep the passions of the youth
To melt with fiery fusion?
Keep too the crone’s wisdom, truth
To know hell’s an illusion?

Who shall win this battle?
Which one shall remain?
A young child’s fire, an old man’s peace?
Must there be loss to gain?

Perhaps there is an answer
That does not end in pain
That marries well the best of both
Convergence of the twain

All this struggle that you see
That is so hard and painful
Is these two Jacobs becoming free
By wrestling each his angel

You were a rough and tumble love
And I so want that kind
The honest real encounter
Not the love that’s blind

The love that sees and seizes
Savors ***** and screams
Howls of joy and sorrow
Pleasure mixed with pain

A love as real as rabbit
A love as deep as mirrors
Reflecting all infinity
Laughing at the terrors

At first it was delightful
Your water was my home
You buoyed me up and held me
We each begged each to come

We zipped it down, we looped the loop
We never left the house
We played what if, we played why not
We talked of being spouse

But as it grew more serious
The stakes began to rise
And I could not leave easily
I'd looked into your eyes

I was *** committed
I was in for all
It was far too late to jump
Far too far to fall

We swam in your water’s depths
Farther from the shore
I did not care for you were there
To hold me up and more

But when you ducked beneath the waves
I turned and you were gone
I knew I was over my head
And sank just like a stone

I woke again with your scent on my skin
And lay there wanting
Nothing to change

No shower yet
Just coffee and cream
And the dogs on the deck

And that perfect stillness
The angled sun
The quiet of the woods

The color of the trees
The smell of the leaves rotting on the ground
And mushrooms and you

The bright blue sky
With one little cloud
The silence deafens my soul out loud

I sit here on the couch
And listen to her voice as she converses through the ether
I do not know what is discussed
From my one side of the conversation
But I know her voice is beautiful and caring and kind

I am here at her house
Just being domestic
Each of us doing our own thing
Yet knowing the other is there if needed

The room is quiet now
The fan revolves
The refrigerator hums
The light from the window is dim

There is a peace in knowing
That I am allowed to be here
Even though there is no reason
No purpose to my presence
Except my presence

Our love is coalescing
Becoming firm and stable
Less wobbles now
Less danger of a fall

But it will always bear watching
Will always need attendance
So I shall try to do that
Be the tender of the tender

Where is all this going?
When will all this end?
I have no way of knowing
But I have found the Friend

Keep your options open
Keep your self apart
Clear out the reminders
Never tie your heart

But I could never follow
Your truly sage advice
I'd rather feel the feelings
Though one must pay the price

And though the speech was spoken
And though we have last kissed
And though the door has closed
Leather still binds my wrist

And though Xoxo is banished
And though you learn the bass
I still look at your picture
Maori on your face

And though the cost of loving us  
Was more than we were able
And though there is no fairy dust
Your bowl will grace my table

And though the first half gain
And second half was loss
Despite that wrong direction
I still lean when I floss

Though we talked without our hearts
And only with our head
Though I left not crying  
Your smile still warms my bed

And though you do not tiptoe
So hearts are breast to breast
Though you say valediction  
Your compass claims my desk

And though our love was lust  
And though I am a mess
A balloon hides in my closet
And I am truly blessed

She was by here earlier today
Flirting with my wild imagination
Revealing lines and stanzas
The way you casually drop
Your clothes upon the floor

I yearned to pick them up
Preserve them with ink and paper
Or little bytes flashing on a screen
But I was busy
Doing more important things
So it seemed at the time

I should have remembered
That these gifts of poem pieces
Are more perishable
Than an overripe peach
And disappear more quickly
Than flakes of snow on warm earth

I was five when the snow came.
“Come look outside!” my mother said.
Sleepy eyed, I stumbled to the kitchen,
Opened the door.

The world had changed!
Heaven come to earth.
The plainest things
Now objects of great beauty.

Crazily, I ran to join the magic,
Stopped in the middle of the yard
To take it all in
And let myself be taken.

But all beauty is not kind.
The cold was now seeping
Into my bare feet,
Fluttering through my thin pajamas.

“Come in” my mother called.
“I can’t.”
I believed this to be true,
Though now I can’t say why.

No logic could convince me
I was still able
To make those few short steps
Back onto our porch.


I was seventeen when I met her.
“You can come inside” she said.
Awkwardly I fumbled
Into the shelter we made for each other.

The world had changed!
Heaven come to earth.
The plainest things
Now objects of great beauty.

We ran to join the magic,
Played at house and lovers,
Young, foolish and happy,
Beautiful and blind,

But all beauty is not kind,
The cold was seeping
Stealthily
Into our daily lives.

“Come back.” she said.
I really believed I couldn’t.
Much easier doing nothing
Than taking any risk.
  

I was sixty when Death came,
Forced me to look with open eyes
Into the deep abyss
Where one must fall or fly.

The world had changed!
Heaven come to earth.
The plainest things
Now objects of great beauty.

He bade me come and join the magic,
Make the world my lover,
Take it all in
And let myself be taken.

But all beauty is not kind.
The cold was again seeping
Into my bare feet
Fluttering through my thin pajamas.

“Come in.” He called
“I can’t.”
I really felt this to be true
Though now I can’t say why.

No logic could convince me
I was still able
To take those first few steps
Away from my back porch.

Expectations

Say you’re disappointed?
You show such shameless pride!
By whom were you anointed
To control this aweful ride?

Think you are the infinite?
That order seems quite tall.
If you are truly infinite
You’re infinitely small

Hilariously tiny speck!
Committing God’s great sin
"Ex- spect" means to look out
Yet you are looking in.

Look out at this great stage
Accept your one true role
Watch each wild scene rant and rage
Holy See the whole

‘Tis good to expect happiness
To rollick with the dance
But true meaning of "hap"-piness
Is things that come by chance

Before you search for Rapture
All around this globe
Remember the last chapter
Of the holy book of Job

1.  Preparing the bed:
The best way to start a fire
Is never let it die
Bank the embers
They will burst back in flame
When you are ready again
Do not wait too long

If you are too late, still-
Leave some ashes from the old fire
Like memories, they hold warmth
And make a place
To welcome the new one

2. Choosing the Wood:
Some wood burns hot
Some burns cool
You need them both

One provides the heat
That keeps the fire alive
In difficult moments
But alone, burns out far too fast

The other tempers
Slows the burn
Makes the longer stronger fire

3. Spacing the Wood:
Distance is crucial
Place the pieces carefully
Close enough to heat each other
But allowing room to breathe

4. Tinder:
If there are no embers, use tender
It flames at a touch
Heart of pine is best

5. Tending the fire
If all above goes well
A roaring fire
Still needs your attention

Sparks go astray
Hearths grow cold
Care is an active verb

They are here
They are always here
I walk among them
So often unaware

Arising full of pain and stiffness
Is it cancer?
Struggling into my clothes with grunts and groans
Making coffee, spilling grounds everywhere
Grabbing my old stick
I stumble through the woods
Looking, listening.

We all affect each other
In intended and unintended ways.
My old hiking stick
Destroys the wondrous web
She spent all night making.

What power I have over her.
What power some have over me.
Even the smallest ones
In my gut or veins
Deciding only
If I live or die.

I am the destroyer.
I am the destroyed.
Flood and fire
Tooth and claw and fang

What does it mean?
What does it all mean?
Anything? Nothing? Everything?
Together we all rush along
A herd of cows on stampede
Pushing, pulling one another
No one knowing where or why

But the whole has its own direction.

The fire sits here with me
Fidgeting as if to go
Yet still staying
Perhaps because it knows
I need a friend

Pavement ends
You must slow down
Ahead lies a border

This side black hot asphalt
White hot daylight
But ahead, across the creek
Dirt road
Cool shade

Crossing over
The road disappears
In a tunnel of trees
Then wishing for deeper
Dives between red clay
kudzu covered banks

Birds flush wildly
As you climb the hill