Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Oklahoma
Oklahoma is that state which bares the worst scars of our country in its very soul. An Indian head penny minted and pressed out in the great depression, the land still breaths the threats and curses of the dust bowl. The spirits in the plains wind have drawn from deep wells of hatred, bigotry, hardship and bitter sleep. The ground yet boasts the blood of black tar, and the willows rest alone. The air is like dusty coffee, and the people like a painting, for the clocks are surreal and the world is become brown and even supported by the hum of a bug sized pickup on the horizon. Fear not for Oklahoma is a wide and mighty roaring river of faith, burnt and tested golden; it will carry each contemplative soul to his or her destiny, some on a whirlwind, and that with great simplicity. Don't chase away the blackbird when you catch his scrawny tune, for his song is the freshest event that will split the serenity of your plateau there, save the light of G-d in the hearts of men passing near.
The Old Oak, In Memory of Robert Frost
The old oak stands stretching tall
Full of sweet dripping sap
Which smells so like mash
Who's stain of sticky resin stays
I walk away with turned back
And feel the weight of sunbeams
Coming through his fingers
Striking out my shadow
I ponder the strength
Of his robust limbs
Casting cool patches of dark
Baring and bending, filtering light
In that shelter the birds alite
Fluttering along the creaking bough
Their songs a shower of blessings
Flowing down the ripple wrinkled trunk
Grasping twisted roots find their way
Ants tickling the belly of amber red leaves
That crackle and swish
A legacy of warmth to the spirit
Of refreshment to the soul
Though the winter has brought the oak sleep
Another smiles to see him wake.
Full of sweet dripping sap
Which smells so like mash
Who's stain of sticky resin stays
I walk away with turned back
And feel the weight of sunbeams
Coming through his fingers
Striking out my shadow
I ponder the strength
Of his robust limbs
Casting cool patches of dark
Baring and bending, filtering light
In that shelter the birds alite
Fluttering along the creaking bough
Their songs a shower of blessings
Flowing down the ripple wrinkled trunk
Grasping twisted roots find their way
Ants tickling the belly of amber red leaves
That crackle and swish
A legacy of warmth to the spirit
Of refreshment to the soul
Though the winter has brought the oak sleep
Another smiles to see him wake.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Speaker
Analogies like allergies
Spring forth like pollen
In the flower of a teaching
Oh those diagrams
Shine like diadems
In the mind of the speaker
Get off my perception
It's too free to use
To build up your ego
Which has gotten so huge
Lift up a mountain
Drink up the sea
Capture the wind
Its all the same to me
How is it the man does not hear
What has become to us so clear
That the clouds have crowded his ears
Analogies, stories, anecdotes
Pickles, olives, artichokes
Seem so very much remote
To those waiting for the news
Thirsty for some hidden truths
Spring forth like pollen
In the flower of a teaching
Oh those diagrams
Shine like diadems
In the mind of the speaker
Get off my perception
It's too free to use
To build up your ego
Which has gotten so huge
Lift up a mountain
Drink up the sea
Capture the wind
Its all the same to me
How is it the man does not hear
What has become to us so clear
That the clouds have crowded his ears
Analogies, stories, anecdotes
Pickles, olives, artichokes
Seem so very much remote
To those waiting for the news
Thirsty for some hidden truths
Awakening
None can console him in his present state
He got up early and stayed up late
His mind like butter in the cold
His actions like those of a 70 yr old
His image torn asunder
His body cast in leaden splendor
Makes him speculate and wonder
Shall he ever recover
Now cast aside the old sock
Let caffeine break the mental block
This grumpy soul now taken
Shall surely sharpen and awaken
Until his eyes can see
What the clay is made to be.
He got up early and stayed up late
His mind like butter in the cold
His actions like those of a 70 yr old
His image torn asunder
His body cast in leaden splendor
Makes him speculate and wonder
Shall he ever recover
Now cast aside the old sock
Let caffeine break the mental block
This grumpy soul now taken
Shall surely sharpen and awaken
Until his eyes can see
What the clay is made to be.
On the Bus and Sea
He said my head hurts
The noise blanketed all
With it's backdrop music
Of voices floating and dancing
On the steady grumbling
Of the bus engine
Through the looking glass
Mogan Davids fluttered in the
Hot unseen breath
On and on swam our ship
Round and round
on the black striped channel
The sun reached in with a
Right hand of light and
A left hand that warmed the soul
A shomer spoke of Abraham
His footsteps and sweet donkeys
to carry our burdens
A voice called out: trinkets for sale
But the gas prices were too high
No sheckles were left to buy
One danced off to Jerusalem
To plan out his Aliya
Then came loaves of bread and fish
These fed a multitude of hearts at rest
Rows of flowers divided the way
Toward the clouds and looking back
over shoulder lay the Kineret
As sea level sent it's greeting
A familiar blast of hot air
On the waves, on the 4th in July
National Anthem in a far away land
Hatikvah in the sea of Galilee
Boating and dancing
singing and clapping
Placid waves calm the spirit
Cool winds bless the soul
Lives and hearts in joy
Under the watchful eye of the captain
In the loving hand of HaShem
Around the next bend stretched out
A table cloth of the lands produce
Peopled around by hills and mountains
The silence cried out farewell Galil
Bails of hay watched in sentry formation
The manufacturer man's building
Stood to the left Like a medieval castle
What's nu with the cows on the way
They speak of Golani guns on the right
Like a ping pong match Quarried cliffs,
wooded land, Mohammedan
Minarets and more cows watched
Watermelons pass us backwards
Afraid to approach Bet Rimon
But ripe enough for Cana
A wave of red clay rose up and
Broke nearby, only to rise again
This time carrying bougainvilleas on the crest
Sunset in color they fled away
As a tractored Don Quixote
Shoo'd us away from an olive orchard
Our eyes drank then from a reservoir
Puffy white sheep gathered overhead
Shepherded by our dreams
Pray for the peace of Jerusalem
And the coming age of Messiah
Rabbi Hanasi spoke from the land to
Seal up the writings of the elders
While looking down at Nazareth
From the perch of Ziporee and
Some were jealous of Moses' woman
The buzzing voice spoke from overhead
Then the sabras grabbed the bus
With their knives and would not let go
Until we stopped to drink and walk.
The noise blanketed all
With it's backdrop music
Of voices floating and dancing
On the steady grumbling
Of the bus engine
Through the looking glass
Mogan Davids fluttered in the
Hot unseen breath
On and on swam our ship
Round and round
on the black striped channel
The sun reached in with a
Right hand of light and
A left hand that warmed the soul
A shomer spoke of Abraham
His footsteps and sweet donkeys
to carry our burdens
A voice called out: trinkets for sale
But the gas prices were too high
No sheckles were left to buy
One danced off to Jerusalem
To plan out his Aliya
Then came loaves of bread and fish
These fed a multitude of hearts at rest
Rows of flowers divided the way
Toward the clouds and looking back
over shoulder lay the Kineret
As sea level sent it's greeting
A familiar blast of hot air
On the waves, on the 4th in July
National Anthem in a far away land
Hatikvah in the sea of Galilee
Boating and dancing
singing and clapping
Placid waves calm the spirit
Cool winds bless the soul
Lives and hearts in joy
Under the watchful eye of the captain
In the loving hand of HaShem
Around the next bend stretched out
A table cloth of the lands produce
Peopled around by hills and mountains
The silence cried out farewell Galil
Bails of hay watched in sentry formation
The manufacturer man's building
Stood to the left Like a medieval castle
What's nu with the cows on the way
They speak of Golani guns on the right
Like a ping pong match Quarried cliffs,
wooded land, Mohammedan
Minarets and more cows watched
Watermelons pass us backwards
Afraid to approach Bet Rimon
But ripe enough for Cana
A wave of red clay rose up and
Broke nearby, only to rise again
This time carrying bougainvilleas on the crest
Sunset in color they fled away
As a tractored Don Quixote
Shoo'd us away from an olive orchard
Our eyes drank then from a reservoir
Puffy white sheep gathered overhead
Shepherded by our dreams
Pray for the peace of Jerusalem
And the coming age of Messiah
Rabbi Hanasi spoke from the land to
Seal up the writings of the elders
While looking down at Nazareth
From the perch of Ziporee and
Some were jealous of Moses' woman
The buzzing voice spoke from overhead
Then the sabras grabbed the bus
With their knives and would not let go
Until we stopped to drink and walk.
Loss In and Around Old Town
As I left Old Town, I climbed the hills
and winding ways, then the airport escalator
and finally through a wall of sound into
the sky. All the while I kept my tears in
a pocket close to my heart. Rings
within rings and circles upon circles.
It had begun this time with a phone call
late at night: " Our loved one is dead."
came those broken hollow words. I didn't
hear the rest right away. Many many yrs
had passed without my becoming very
close to this one. I reached into the vault
of my beating inner chambers and
began to spend tears one by one and
then many as I lay silently in my bed.
Like a rock breaking through the
Surface of liquid reflection
So the flying behemoth catapulted me back
To the fertile place of the past
Barreling through time and space
To the hearth and home of before
Once the light shown brightly there
But now seemed to have dimmed
The wind barely dared to whisper
About life there once so full
Of Passion and desire now seemed
To fade in the hard water of time
Like a yellowed newspaper
Long forgotten beneath the fallen leaves
Excitement had been driven out by slumber
And In the eyes of many the spark
That once flared, now only flickered
Once again the world turned the clock
and the wheels of the car turned to
find the way back to the warmth of
my boyhood home. There the old gears
of my family were turning. Death had
done what life could not. Death
and resurrection had brought our
family back together in one place.
For the first time, I could connect
the dots and view those patches
of the tapestry left now to our care
that had been our loved one's life.
The possibility of death's reality had
broken in upon my consciousness 3
yrs earlier when my family's best
friend had passed away and broken
our hearts. Now, hear it was again
and the bell tolled in silent dark
resonance. Yet our loved one gave
once again in death. It was the
gift of meeting with and knowing
many more of the colorful charming
members of our clan. The gravity
of this family constellation had
pulled many friendships into it's
orbit, and together they lit up the
black night with the beauty of their
shining brightness. The pull of
their world had brought me
back within Old Town's hills to
rebuild that which had been
broken. They had shown me
another way home. It seemed that
even as one world was slipping
away another one was being
created. How blessed I felt to
be shown the way home once
more.
Lines interlocking and string
intertwined, the thread went
through the needle into the eye
of the storm. Then the rain came,
raindrops from every heart,
teardrops from the sky. A cold
wind also blew, but death and
destruction could have no power
over the dawning of spring and
the ressurection of those who
have left us. So the Robins and
Cardinals announced the season
of life and flowers put on their best
show of colors and sweetness of
breath.
The moon past from behind the
curtain and the dream began again.
I was inserted into my alter ego of
timeless past; in the city and
relationships of my youth. For a brief
trickle of time the magic of the moon
played the tides of my soul. What once
was, came again, although changed, as
we all drifted along a little downstream
toward the oceans of the coming past.
Something was different this time however;
yet also the same. What had troubled me
those many yrs ago when I had left Old Town,
rose up again to haunt my thoughts and assault
my sensibilities. The chiseled out class-ism
and the clash of the blue collar mentality with
the changing society at large. The utter corruption
of the local government, the misappropriation
of public funds and the condescending attitude
of small minded wealth in the high places of a
country club mentality. In the city substance abuse
and sensuality was the only recreation, and violence
or the threat of violence as paths to solving the riddles
of self and relating to others.
Old Town was like a Cockney scraping out his
existence in a Dickens novel. But the sights and
sounds of the place remained as beautiful and pleasant
as when I was a little boy first experiencing them.
Old Victorian homes and turn of the century mansions
line hilly cobblestone streets, each perched upon little
embankments. Universities, museums, and observatory
clustered among the ivy and greens. The neighborhood
of make believe.The maple trees fresh and green,
spinning off their propeller like seeds, the Sycamores
with their monkeyball seeds, dusty leaves, and peeling bark.
Robins, Mockingbirds, and Cardinals calling out
their continuous song, rabbits, deer, pheasants and
plush greenery outlined and divided by rivers and hills
into cities, townships and boroughs.
Life in L.A. needed nurturing: family. Like a reflection of
some fracture deep within the here and now, so it was that
my life in Old Town should remain only in short dreams,
as the schism of my east west lives could not be reconciled.
The waves of life in the west called for the freedom
to inundate and I needed embrace it for all that was good
and right. I awakened in L.A.. So the spell was broken,
the dream over, and I left the time machine for a coffee
mixed with memories of the past.
and winding ways, then the airport escalator
and finally through a wall of sound into
the sky. All the while I kept my tears in
a pocket close to my heart. Rings
within rings and circles upon circles.
It had begun this time with a phone call
late at night: " Our loved one is dead."
came those broken hollow words. I didn't
hear the rest right away. Many many yrs
had passed without my becoming very
close to this one. I reached into the vault
of my beating inner chambers and
began to spend tears one by one and
then many as I lay silently in my bed.
Like a rock breaking through the
Surface of liquid reflection
So the flying behemoth catapulted me back
To the fertile place of the past
Barreling through time and space
To the hearth and home of before
Once the light shown brightly there
But now seemed to have dimmed
The wind barely dared to whisper
About life there once so full
Of Passion and desire now seemed
To fade in the hard water of time
Like a yellowed newspaper
Long forgotten beneath the fallen leaves
Excitement had been driven out by slumber
And In the eyes of many the spark
That once flared, now only flickered
Once again the world turned the clock
and the wheels of the car turned to
find the way back to the warmth of
my boyhood home. There the old gears
of my family were turning. Death had
done what life could not. Death
and resurrection had brought our
family back together in one place.
For the first time, I could connect
the dots and view those patches
of the tapestry left now to our care
that had been our loved one's life.
The possibility of death's reality had
broken in upon my consciousness 3
yrs earlier when my family's best
friend had passed away and broken
our hearts. Now, hear it was again
and the bell tolled in silent dark
resonance. Yet our loved one gave
once again in death. It was the
gift of meeting with and knowing
many more of the colorful charming
members of our clan. The gravity
of this family constellation had
pulled many friendships into it's
orbit, and together they lit up the
black night with the beauty of their
shining brightness. The pull of
their world had brought me
back within Old Town's hills to
rebuild that which had been
broken. They had shown me
another way home. It seemed that
even as one world was slipping
away another one was being
created. How blessed I felt to
be shown the way home once
more.
Lines interlocking and string
intertwined, the thread went
through the needle into the eye
of the storm. Then the rain came,
raindrops from every heart,
teardrops from the sky. A cold
wind also blew, but death and
destruction could have no power
over the dawning of spring and
the ressurection of those who
have left us. So the Robins and
Cardinals announced the season
of life and flowers put on their best
show of colors and sweetness of
breath.
The moon past from behind the
curtain and the dream began again.
I was inserted into my alter ego of
timeless past; in the city and
relationships of my youth. For a brief
trickle of time the magic of the moon
played the tides of my soul. What once
was, came again, although changed, as
we all drifted along a little downstream
toward the oceans of the coming past.
Something was different this time however;
yet also the same. What had troubled me
those many yrs ago when I had left Old Town,
rose up again to haunt my thoughts and assault
my sensibilities. The chiseled out class-ism
and the clash of the blue collar mentality with
the changing society at large. The utter corruption
of the local government, the misappropriation
of public funds and the condescending attitude
of small minded wealth in the high places of a
country club mentality. In the city substance abuse
and sensuality was the only recreation, and violence
or the threat of violence as paths to solving the riddles
of self and relating to others.
Old Town was like a Cockney scraping out his
existence in a Dickens novel. But the sights and
sounds of the place remained as beautiful and pleasant
as when I was a little boy first experiencing them.
Old Victorian homes and turn of the century mansions
line hilly cobblestone streets, each perched upon little
embankments. Universities, museums, and observatory
clustered among the ivy and greens. The neighborhood
of make believe.The maple trees fresh and green,
spinning off their propeller like seeds, the Sycamores
with their monkeyball seeds, dusty leaves, and peeling bark.
Robins, Mockingbirds, and Cardinals calling out
their continuous song, rabbits, deer, pheasants and
plush greenery outlined and divided by rivers and hills
into cities, townships and boroughs.
Life in L.A. needed nurturing: family. Like a reflection of
some fracture deep within the here and now, so it was that
my life in Old Town should remain only in short dreams,
as the schism of my east west lives could not be reconciled.
The waves of life in the west called for the freedom
to inundate and I needed embrace it for all that was good
and right. I awakened in L.A.. So the spell was broken,
the dream over, and I left the time machine for a coffee
mixed with memories of the past.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Gardner and the Flower
Once upon a time, there was a flower beautiful to behold.
Full of light in a dark kingdom the flower bore the seeds of love.
Her seeds had the power to grow in the heart of the beholder.
Together the flower and the beholder would wait for the sun to
appear over head, for the sun is the source of sustenance.
Without him there could be no love, no warmth, no life.
Sometimes when the weather is cloudy it is hard to see the sun.
It was during these times that the flower and her friend would
assure each other that the sun would be out again soon and
the flower swayed in the breezes while her friend sang.
Whenever the hard rains came the flower and her friend
stood by one another, and although it was difficult to bear up under,
the flower would raise up again soon after the storm. This
then, is the story of how the two became friends.
The man first spied the rose in a field of roses. He was
awed by her beauty so much so that he almost bumped into a tree
branch while gazing at her. She was quiet and bent over for
that day had been cloudy and wet. The man left the field
that day and had almost forgotten the rose, but an enchanted wind
arose and carried one of the flower's magic seeds from the field
a great distance to the man's house and planted it in his heart.
Along the way from the man's house to the field where the flower lived,
were a great many obstacles; swamps, wild beasts, and thickets of thorns
to block his path, but the flower could not come to him. The seed
once planted worked in the man's heart and grew into a powerful
vision of the flower. Now it seemed to the man that even if there
were Lions in the way of getting to the field, it mattered little.
Indeed as the man drew closer to the flower he realized that she
was more beautiful than his memory's telling. The flower called out:
"I have thorns that may hurt you and the journey is difficult for you
to make." For the field was a dangerous place, and was the flower
to place trust in a stranger when her life was held in such a delicate
balance? Also, there were other flowers to consider. Might
the man in his clumsiness and haste not trample under foot some
of those which grew very close to the spot where the flower stood?
Or might he try to pull me out and move me elsewhere? Again she
called: "My roots are entwined with many of the flowers close to me,
If you take me away others may be injured or lost. " So she closed
her petals into a bud and thought on these things while the flower
prayed that the sun might shine. The sun did come out and the
his rays shone and reflected through droplets on the flower so
that she appeared radiant and faceted about with diamonds.
It seemed to the man that the sun only shone on the flower.
Soon the man arrived and was careful of the other flowers so
that he did not injure them. He brought water for the flower
and tilled the soil at her feet. As he kneeled beside her, the
man noticed for the first time the flower's intoxicating fragrance;
it washed over him like an ocean wave. The orange and jasmine
blossoms saw this and were jealous, for all the blossoms of the
field could not compare. Every day and sometimes at night the
man came to visit the flower, either in body or in his thoughts.
But thoughts were never like being there with her. So it was
that the man more and more like a gardener. And the flower
absorbed and reflected more and more of the sun in
her glorious petals. The man and flower became friends.
Then it happened, they began to see that they were made with
the purpose of caring and being cared for. In doing so they
both became stronger and better at caring
so that they began to care for those around them and all
things great and small that lived in the field. He with the
skills of a husbandman and she with the power of love.
The two became very close so that the flower no longer
afraid, opened up again in full bloom. The man loved
the flower and she in turn loved her friend. He began to
notice how intricate were the flower's gold tipped
and scarlet petals. Soft to the touch and blinding to
look upon. Also her slender stem and waxen leaves,
which alternately shone in the sun or danced with dew
in the moonlight. She gave shade to all passing below;
From her heart came pollen and nectar to humming birds,
butterflies, ants and bees of the field. The friends
were happy in this newly enchanted place and let
their dreams take flight, for both knew that winter
season would come some day. The season of ice
when all things must sleep. The man and flower
shivered at the passing thought. But the sun
shone strongly on them through the morning mists
and a rainbow comforted them with these words:
" Be assured little ones below, the sun rules the sky
and seasons, he is always shining even in the
darkest winter, and the hand of ice has been
broken forever so that spring may come again
and so that the flower, her friend and all that live
in the field might dwell in his warm light for evermore ."
So it was, and so they did. And they lived
happily ever after.
Full of light in a dark kingdom the flower bore the seeds of love.
Her seeds had the power to grow in the heart of the beholder.
Together the flower and the beholder would wait for the sun to
appear over head, for the sun is the source of sustenance.
Without him there could be no love, no warmth, no life.
Sometimes when the weather is cloudy it is hard to see the sun.
It was during these times that the flower and her friend would
assure each other that the sun would be out again soon and
the flower swayed in the breezes while her friend sang.
Whenever the hard rains came the flower and her friend
stood by one another, and although it was difficult to bear up under,
the flower would raise up again soon after the storm. This
then, is the story of how the two became friends.
The man first spied the rose in a field of roses. He was
awed by her beauty so much so that he almost bumped into a tree
branch while gazing at her. She was quiet and bent over for
that day had been cloudy and wet. The man left the field
that day and had almost forgotten the rose, but an enchanted wind
arose and carried one of the flower's magic seeds from the field
a great distance to the man's house and planted it in his heart.
Along the way from the man's house to the field where the flower lived,
were a great many obstacles; swamps, wild beasts, and thickets of thorns
to block his path, but the flower could not come to him. The seed
once planted worked in the man's heart and grew into a powerful
vision of the flower. Now it seemed to the man that even if there
were Lions in the way of getting to the field, it mattered little.
Indeed as the man drew closer to the flower he realized that she
was more beautiful than his memory's telling. The flower called out:
"I have thorns that may hurt you and the journey is difficult for you
to make." For the field was a dangerous place, and was the flower
to place trust in a stranger when her life was held in such a delicate
balance? Also, there were other flowers to consider. Might
the man in his clumsiness and haste not trample under foot some
of those which grew very close to the spot where the flower stood?
Or might he try to pull me out and move me elsewhere? Again she
called: "My roots are entwined with many of the flowers close to me,
If you take me away others may be injured or lost. " So she closed
her petals into a bud and thought on these things while the flower
prayed that the sun might shine. The sun did come out and the
his rays shone and reflected through droplets on the flower so
that she appeared radiant and faceted about with diamonds.
It seemed to the man that the sun only shone on the flower.
Soon the man arrived and was careful of the other flowers so
that he did not injure them. He brought water for the flower
and tilled the soil at her feet. As he kneeled beside her, the
man noticed for the first time the flower's intoxicating fragrance;
it washed over him like an ocean wave. The orange and jasmine
blossoms saw this and were jealous, for all the blossoms of the
field could not compare. Every day and sometimes at night the
man came to visit the flower, either in body or in his thoughts.
But thoughts were never like being there with her. So it was
that the man more and more like a gardener. And the flower
absorbed and reflected more and more of the sun in
her glorious petals. The man and flower became friends.
Then it happened, they began to see that they were made with
the purpose of caring and being cared for. In doing so they
both became stronger and better at caring
so that they began to care for those around them and all
things great and small that lived in the field. He with the
skills of a husbandman and she with the power of love.
The two became very close so that the flower no longer
afraid, opened up again in full bloom. The man loved
the flower and she in turn loved her friend. He began to
notice how intricate were the flower's gold tipped
and scarlet petals. Soft to the touch and blinding to
look upon. Also her slender stem and waxen leaves,
which alternately shone in the sun or danced with dew
in the moonlight. She gave shade to all passing below;
From her heart came pollen and nectar to humming birds,
butterflies, ants and bees of the field. The friends
were happy in this newly enchanted place and let
their dreams take flight, for both knew that winter
season would come some day. The season of ice
when all things must sleep. The man and flower
shivered at the passing thought. But the sun
shone strongly on them through the morning mists
and a rainbow comforted them with these words:
" Be assured little ones below, the sun rules the sky
and seasons, he is always shining even in the
darkest winter, and the hand of ice has been
broken forever so that spring may come again
and so that the flower, her friend and all that live
in the field might dwell in his warm light for evermore ."
So it was, and so they did. And they lived
happily ever after.
Love
Love beyond the mountains
Hovering in the gleam about the snow
Splendid rushing waters of the sea
Salt crystal on a fingertip
Creation, Creation in majesty
Abounding in the clouds
Of the forest's aging ancient trees
See the pollen of a flower
Love softer than a kiss
In the eyes of a child
Through the vale of prismed rainbow
With the gurgling waters of a brook
A fleck of mineral on a crayfish
Seasons shimmering leaves
Love in you and me
Much greater than the furthest star
Love fathoms the Universe
A light year in your sigh
As the fresh unseen is captured
Then given in reflection once again.
Hovering in the gleam about the snow
Splendid rushing waters of the sea
Salt crystal on a fingertip
Creation, Creation in majesty
Abounding in the clouds
Of the forest's aging ancient trees
See the pollen of a flower
Love softer than a kiss
In the eyes of a child
Through the vale of prismed rainbow
With the gurgling waters of a brook
A fleck of mineral on a crayfish
Seasons shimmering leaves
Love in you and me
Much greater than the furthest star
Love fathoms the Universe
A light year in your sigh
As the fresh unseen is captured
Then given in reflection once again.
Summer Night
Emerald leaves in motion
Unfolding for the night
Mounting waves of ocean
Pulled by moonbeams bright
Nova in the vapors
Bursts into Nebulae
Little bird in the Sycamore
Singing on as if to say
This heart is with yours
Sky, sea and forest
Pearl of my vision
Glowing in my eye
My heart is young
Share love with me
Or I shall die
Unfolding for the night
Mounting waves of ocean
Pulled by moonbeams bright
Nova in the vapors
Bursts into Nebulae
Little bird in the Sycamore
Singing on as if to say
This heart is with yours
Sky, sea and forest
Pearl of my vision
Glowing in my eye
My heart is young
Share love with me
Or I shall die
Nature and The City
Listen a bird is singing
Look a sundrop in your eye
Glistening grass parting
A hawk dives
Beyond the fields a dog is barking
Thank G-d for the bug that's bothering
And the snakes under the house
All the thriving wild and beautiful things
Are much better than the concrete coliseums
Plastic flowers, Teflon humanity, electric buzz
Dirty streets and sooty incense
Which permeate everything
Everyday, when living in the big city.
Look a sundrop in your eye
Glistening grass parting
A hawk dives
Beyond the fields a dog is barking
Thank G-d for the bug that's bothering
And the snakes under the house
All the thriving wild and beautiful things
Are much better than the concrete coliseums
Plastic flowers, Teflon humanity, electric buzz
Dirty streets and sooty incense
Which permeate everything
Everyday, when living in the big city.
Remembering Dobie
Dear Miss Pecora
Sweet flower assured
We love you though its hard to say
Sister, friend any day
We do not use you
We would not bruise you
You are so kind to your kinder
Do not let your heart be bitter
We all love you and not for convenience
Though our actions may not show loves response
We get caught up in busy jet streams
While running to chase life's dreams
You are patient and so kind
Please don't be of troubled mind
What can we do, ask us please
Our words be unwise, but will not tease
Doing our best at your appeal
We all care for you but some with hidden zeal.
Sweet flower assured
We love you though its hard to say
Sister, friend any day
We do not use you
We would not bruise you
You are so kind to your kinder
Do not let your heart be bitter
We all love you and not for convenience
Though our actions may not show loves response
We get caught up in busy jet streams
While running to chase life's dreams
You are patient and so kind
Please don't be of troubled mind
What can we do, ask us please
Our words be unwise, but will not tease
Doing our best at your appeal
We all care for you but some with hidden zeal.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Morning Moment
Wipper will wind
Pink sky in the morning
Pine tree straight and tall
Motorcycles rush by
Cold fingers
Florescent light
On the wire mourning doves
Tan and brown
The heater is working
The bicycle parked
A dairy truck hums loudly
Can't seem to write the correct date
Unconcerned walkers stroll to work
Wastepaper basket scrapes
Subtle on the concrete floor
Telephone sits glaring electric reflection
The day goes on.
Pink sky in the morning
Pine tree straight and tall
Motorcycles rush by
Cold fingers
Florescent light
On the wire mourning doves
Tan and brown
The heater is working
The bicycle parked
A dairy truck hums loudly
Can't seem to write the correct date
Unconcerned walkers stroll to work
Wastepaper basket scrapes
Subtle on the concrete floor
Telephone sits glaring electric reflection
The day goes on.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Smile
When your day is dull and dreary
And your mind won't seem to clear it
Just seems everything's going totally wrong
When the boss is out and in
You've done something wrong again. again?
Why did it all have to happen to me
Well let me ask you just one question
For I tell you the solution
Lo, give you absolution
For your soul that's dark and dreary, deary
When you got up out of bed this morning
Did you start to contemplating something
Or did you just smile, just smile?
Do you wake up in the morning
Just sitting there frowning
Or do you smile, just smile!
When you hop out of bed with a smile on your face
Your teeth shinning all over the place
What a fine example for the whole human race
That life ain't so bad after all!
You've got to smile through the day
Fly your colors, your own special way
Drink your coffee, crunch your toast the way,
The way you want to
Smile, no matter what the luck
Honey, there ain't no if ands or buts
Just smile, and say I love you
Smile away, when you're on the freeway
There's a mad traffic jam, and horns are honked at you
Because when you smile its a free day
Smile and you show the way
Smile, even if its just to say
Hello, goodbye
You've got tto smile through the day
Fly your colors your own special way
Drink your coffee, crunch your toast the way
The way you want to
Smile you're the hero, its your epic story
Deary, we'll all revel in the glory
When you smile, and say I love you
If you do all these things
You'll hear the birdy when he sings
Every day is like spring, you've sprung
The sun is shining brightly
The breeze is whistling lightly
Your heart is young and sprightly, you see
When you smile where you are
You change the world near and far
Smile, because thats just the way you are!
And your mind won't seem to clear it
Just seems everything's going totally wrong
When the boss is out and in
You've done something wrong again. again?
Why did it all have to happen to me
Well let me ask you just one question
For I tell you the solution
Lo, give you absolution
For your soul that's dark and dreary, deary
When you got up out of bed this morning
Did you start to contemplating something
Or did you just smile, just smile?
Do you wake up in the morning
Just sitting there frowning
Or do you smile, just smile!
When you hop out of bed with a smile on your face
Your teeth shinning all over the place
What a fine example for the whole human race
That life ain't so bad after all!
You've got to smile through the day
Fly your colors, your own special way
Drink your coffee, crunch your toast the way,
The way you want to
Smile, no matter what the luck
Honey, there ain't no if ands or buts
Just smile, and say I love you
Smile away, when you're on the freeway
There's a mad traffic jam, and horns are honked at you
Because when you smile its a free day
Smile and you show the way
Smile, even if its just to say
Hello, goodbye
You've got tto smile through the day
Fly your colors your own special way
Drink your coffee, crunch your toast the way
The way you want to
Smile you're the hero, its your epic story
Deary, we'll all revel in the glory
When you smile, and say I love you
If you do all these things
You'll hear the birdy when he sings
Every day is like spring, you've sprung
The sun is shining brightly
The breeze is whistling lightly
Your heart is young and sprightly, you see
When you smile where you are
You change the world near and far
Smile, because thats just the way you are!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Fall Into The Sky
The sky
An ocean where birds swim
Clouds play
And man longs to be
He is there in spirit
In thoughts of purest essence
Or those of drifting temperament
The starry sky
Humbles all captured onlookers
She is unfathomable, unknown
Just as the heart of another
The trees reach up to touch her
To praise something unseen
The sky is the court of a king
In which all the planets are dancing
Stars, embers that keep eyes warmed
The unhappy hide from her face
Afraid of what might be read there
A happy heart with raised visage
Releases the news of its owner's joy
Such are the observations of a child
All who look upon her beauty
Fall into the sky at a glance.
An ocean where birds swim
Clouds play
And man longs to be
He is there in spirit
In thoughts of purest essence
Or those of drifting temperament
The starry sky
Humbles all captured onlookers
She is unfathomable, unknown
Just as the heart of another
The trees reach up to touch her
To praise something unseen
The sky is the court of a king
In which all the planets are dancing
Stars, embers that keep eyes warmed
The unhappy hide from her face
Afraid of what might be read there
A happy heart with raised visage
Releases the news of its owner's joy
Such are the observations of a child
All who look upon her beauty
Fall into the sky at a glance.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Autumn
All around the leaves are falling
Leaves are falling from the trees
Red and yellow leaves are falling
Leaves are falling down on me
Fall right down and touch my sweater
Touch my sweater then to the ground
With friends around me, seems much better
Seems much better on the ground
Rolling through falling leaves
Tearing up the elbows of flannel sleaves
Rolling through falling leaves
Muddying up the knees in my old bluejeans
Get right up its started raining
Started raining in cold gray sky
Away from you the rain is falling
Rain is falling from my eye
On misty morning I'll be calling
I'll be calling in cold night air
In your warm heart I'll be calling
I'll be calling to you there
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Running through the rain will you every get there
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Cuddling by the fire in your favorite chair
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Picking out a pumpkin at the county fair
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Kissing in the field without a care
Jumping up, dancing down
Singing songs all around
And fresh, is the Autumn air.
Leaves are falling from the trees
Red and yellow leaves are falling
Leaves are falling down on me
Fall right down and touch my sweater
Touch my sweater then to the ground
With friends around me, seems much better
Seems much better on the ground
Rolling through falling leaves
Tearing up the elbows of flannel sleaves
Rolling through falling leaves
Muddying up the knees in my old bluejeans
Get right up its started raining
Started raining in cold gray sky
Away from you the rain is falling
Rain is falling from my eye
On misty morning I'll be calling
I'll be calling in cold night air
In your warm heart I'll be calling
I'll be calling to you there
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Running through the rain will you every get there
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Cuddling by the fire in your favorite chair
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Picking out a pumpkin at the county fair
The wind's blowing Autumn air
Kissing in the field without a care
Jumping up, dancing down
Singing songs all around
And fresh, is the Autumn air.
War and Life
War in Nicaragua
War in El Salvador
Somewhere down south
At our abstracted backdoor
Are people really suffering
Its all foggy in my head
A vague string of pictures
Dirty little phrases
The TV news said
I can't understand it all
Its so very hard to grasp
Oppression in South Africa
We don't expect to last
Famine in Ethiopia
As we bury the cornucopia
War in Bagdad
Protests in Iran
War in Afganistan
Somewhere over there
Primitive in my memory
Crazy dying madmen
By the Mediterranean Sea
But Here in America
In my favorite magazine
The advertisement reads
You can have what you dream
Can you hear the screams
Of dissidents in prison
I do not know their pain
Do you the man in agony
Let him call his son
There's not much we can do
We've got bad economy
I work very hard
My job is all my life
I got nice car
A house, kids and wife
We ain't got much
But we get by
See the man in the cardboard box
Look away now, he wants money
And we've got so very little
Look at the woman
Playing in her spittle
Not now don'tt you see
I'm entertaining, tea's on the kettle
War on the planet
War in the heavens
They say its UFOS
Perhaps a Communist plot
Capitalist Imperialism
Cultic Satanism
G-d's special ism
Don't bother me
I don't know
I'm just one man
Living out my dream
In a dirty little place
A quiet space
Unaffected by the universe.
War in El Salvador
Somewhere down south
At our abstracted backdoor
Are people really suffering
Its all foggy in my head
A vague string of pictures
Dirty little phrases
The TV news said
I can't understand it all
Its so very hard to grasp
Oppression in South Africa
We don't expect to last
Famine in Ethiopia
As we bury the cornucopia
War in Bagdad
Protests in Iran
War in Afganistan
Somewhere over there
Primitive in my memory
Crazy dying madmen
By the Mediterranean Sea
But Here in America
In my favorite magazine
The advertisement reads
You can have what you dream
Can you hear the screams
Of dissidents in prison
I do not know their pain
Do you the man in agony
Let him call his son
There's not much we can do
We've got bad economy
I work very hard
My job is all my life
I got nice car
A house, kids and wife
We ain't got much
But we get by
See the man in the cardboard box
Look away now, he wants money
And we've got so very little
Look at the woman
Playing in her spittle
Not now don'tt you see
I'm entertaining, tea's on the kettle
War on the planet
War in the heavens
They say its UFOS
Perhaps a Communist plot
Capitalist Imperialism
Cultic Satanism
G-d's special ism
Don't bother me
I don't know
I'm just one man
Living out my dream
In a dirty little place
A quiet space
Unaffected by the universe.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Poor One
When you're a poor one
Nobody loves you
When you're a poor one
There's no one to care
When you're a poor one
Everyone is above you
When you're a poor one
You collect welfare
When you're a poor one
To be sickly is common
When you're a poor one
Idiot's your name
When you're a poor one
You're ugly, downtrodden
When you're a poor one
Living's your game
When you're a poor one
Your Stomach is empty
When you're a poor one
The world is pain
When you're a poor one
You weather winds wintry
When you're a poor one
You're cold in the rain
When you're a poor one
All you know is desire
When you're a poor one
No one knows you're man
When you're a poor one
You warm by campfire
When you're a poor one
You sleep where you can
When you're a poor one
Your wealth is in heaven
When you're a poor one
You walk with cold feet
When you're a poor one
Your life is unleaven
When you're a poor one
You hate man's conceit
When you're a poor one
Old dogs hang around you
When you're a poor one
You give them a name
When you're a poor one
You own what is with you
When you're a poor one
You hide on a train
When you're a poor one
You steal what will feed you
When you're a poor one
You eat handout meals
When you're a poor one
G-d's always beside you
When you're a poor one
Death's kicking your heels
When you're a poor one
Life is quite lonely
When you're a poor one
You have little mirth
When you're a poor one
There's happiness only
When you're a poor one
Buried in earth.
Nobody loves you
When you're a poor one
There's no one to care
When you're a poor one
Everyone is above you
When you're a poor one
You collect welfare
When you're a poor one
To be sickly is common
When you're a poor one
Idiot's your name
When you're a poor one
You're ugly, downtrodden
When you're a poor one
Living's your game
When you're a poor one
Your Stomach is empty
When you're a poor one
The world is pain
When you're a poor one
You weather winds wintry
When you're a poor one
You're cold in the rain
When you're a poor one
All you know is desire
When you're a poor one
No one knows you're man
When you're a poor one
You warm by campfire
When you're a poor one
You sleep where you can
When you're a poor one
Your wealth is in heaven
When you're a poor one
You walk with cold feet
When you're a poor one
Your life is unleaven
When you're a poor one
You hate man's conceit
When you're a poor one
Old dogs hang around you
When you're a poor one
You give them a name
When you're a poor one
You own what is with you
When you're a poor one
You hide on a train
When you're a poor one
You steal what will feed you
When you're a poor one
You eat handout meals
When you're a poor one
G-d's always beside you
When you're a poor one
Death's kicking your heels
When you're a poor one
Life is quite lonely
When you're a poor one
You have little mirth
When you're a poor one
There's happiness only
When you're a poor one
Buried in earth.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Ode To Summer
This is for Junipers and all things that grow
For clover, mint and fern
Dandelions, Daisies and sun in the trees
Hot afternoons and cold lemonade
Warm friendships in the cool of shade
All little children who run in the meadows
Buzzing bees and Sunflower seeds
Cows that say moo to passersby
Corn that cracks in the blue sky
Hawks and Blue Jays, Robins and Geese
Wheat a whistling in the wind, grass and oats
Rain crystal clear coming down far and near
An old pond where turtles lay
Ice cold springs ringing through the forests
The warm look of moose and calf in the leaves at rest
The buck antler's crest, creatures eyes in hedge, hole and nest
There out to spy, to play, feed and to rest
For clover, mint and fern
Dandelions, Daisies and sun in the trees
Hot afternoons and cold lemonade
Warm friendships in the cool of shade
All little children who run in the meadows
Buzzing bees and Sunflower seeds
Cows that say moo to passersby
Corn that cracks in the blue sky
Hawks and Blue Jays, Robins and Geese
Wheat a whistling in the wind, grass and oats
Rain crystal clear coming down far and near
An old pond where turtles lay
Ice cold springs ringing through the forests
The warm look of moose and calf in the leaves at rest
The buck antler's crest, creatures eyes in hedge, hole and nest
There out to spy, to play, feed and to rest
Shorts, Fragments, and Thoughts
Swimming in the tides
Is not a task of leasure
It is however one way
of telling the live fish
from the dead
The fox once caught
Will try to convince
His captor that he
Is the one ensnared
All the songs in the willful winds
Belong to him who lets them in
Joy is a bunny hopping about
Inside one's breast
A book is to be read
With some tea and some bread
Hid like a crook, in a nook, in a bed
With a fire nearby and a tear in your eye
Like a granny in a wise and quiet mind
For then comes slumber, gentle and kind
Encrypted words flew like birds
In the place of the Louvre
Humming birds and buzzing bees
Make admiring minds want to see
A man who witnesses pain and suffering
But does nothing to change or remedy it
Is a man bereft of his senses
Even the mightiest ocean
Soothes the ear and
Licks the shore
Every flower
No matter how beautiful
Starts in the dirt
Sometimes on a cool night
The smell of smoke
Can make one feel like a pine tree
Standing wooed by the fire's story
Quickened by other's restless leaves
Stretching toward a star
Only a pine needle away
Warmed by existance
One of many in a dark house
Seemingly silent
Tonight I chanced upon a pine tree
Chatting with a lamppost dress in black
I'm trimmed straight and lean
The lamppost said
I'm somewhat in between
Said the pine
And with that they chuckled gustily
Trust in love
Love in trust
G-d is love
Give to love
Love to give
Love and live
There is peace in love
A gentle urging to kindness
The birds are flying south
So tempting is the Autumn air
That one stands captive
Filling the senses
With it's pure damp cool life
Looking at the windowsill
I see four candles fluttering warm light
There is great pleasure being in my room
Thinking lazy thoughts
On this November Saturday
I've hurt someone
Now like a wrecking ball inside of me
Each memory of people I've hurt
Hollows me out
What I conceited ass I've become
A good thought is a fair and noble flight
But a good action is virtue
Emotions not expressed in day to day life
Are often expressed in dreams
Don't hold back your emotions and
You will sleep better at night
Peaceful Shadows
Patient light
Winter dawn
What whispers the wind
To the leaves that tremble?
What says the rock, as waters fall?
Beauty whispers the wind
Gushing rushing sparkling
Beauty, sounds the stone!
Passion is most well expressed
When love for another is given action
Self love, on the other hand
Is only a poor shadow of this
When slipping sands all turn to stone
When all there is to know is known
By reason that we may not cherish
All on this earth will perish
No stone left unturned
Every life, and every home
With crackling trumpet sound
All the heavens shall abound
Messiah is come in Glory!
Peace in green
Life in heat
Spring in song
Singing rainbow
Clear flowing water
The notes of the rockband
Were frayed and clashed
Until they shook my being
In seeming remeniscence
Of the earthquake earlier that day
But all the while my soul
Like waters of the ocean
Rolled forth in peace
The man undressed
Is distressed
Teachers seldom do
What they teach others to
The greatest plagues
Attack not the body
But the mind
Memory is a dancer
Just beyond my reach
So it is I am learning to dance
Peggy Peggy Peggy
Little shining Peggy
Dancing for donuts
Smiling for reggae
Turning and twisting
Jumping with bounce
I love you little Peggy
Every little ounce
As stones are for skipping
So words are for winning
The heart of a lovesick friend
Morning in the clover
Dew on the flowertops
Feet cold and wet
Dirty bottoms, dirty tops
Sun is out, yet the air is misty
See the bits of colored light
Sleep flees in vapors musty
Leaves us now in heavens hand
The shadows hid from the sunlight
Dust collected on the Venetian blinds
The sun came in the window pane
To offer me a warm hug and a cheery smile
My soul felt like hot maple syrup
As I read G-d's words eternal
Outside the wind mocked and howled
My soul sange sweet perfumed praises
Gypsy Horse
Shiny silk auburn
Sleek liquid marble
Passing thunder on the earth
Born a grace and wildness
Pensive, restless, rippling dignity
There came a tiny dancer
A twinkling in my eye
Kind words were sent a prancing
more comely by and by
The air was light and fancy
Fair music was her hair
Fierce winds her fanfair coming
Her farewell sweet breezes were
Joy is bubbles of laughter
Waiting to escape a smile
Joy is light turned into breath
Shining out with each sigh
A brightness uncomprehended
Pearl of my vision
Glowing in my eye
My heart is young
Share love with me
Or I shall surely die
Drifting in the quiet
Of a sunset afternoon
Chirping Sparrows
Cooing tardy morning doves
A calls out his off key song
No more orange rays
As the sun slips down
Other side of the horizon
Rouge pollen petals
Hearts without loving
Till a crystal teardrops
Come and adorn each
Tempering Brilliance
So softly sounds beauty
Braided green
Budding Birth
Oh fattened Butterfly
Hello Mr. bee
Shimmering and fuzzy
In the sunlight dancing
Take your time and clean
I won't chase you
Rest while you may
Until you fly away
Potatoes and eggs
Sour cream and muffins
One banana and orange juice
Down I am stuffing
Mmmmmm!
All the song in the willful wind
Belong to Him Who created them
The sunbeam pierces
The cool stream
Reflection yielding not
The warm hand of One
Cleansing the life within
Death comes soon enough
No need to lie and wait
A pig for a sty
A ring for his nose
A laborer wallowing
In food and mud
A slaughter
Tshuvah is the hardest of all staircases to climb
It is steep and ends in another dimension
One block falls another is set in its place
A baby is born an old man dies
The old bear will not leave the trash unless shot
He dies a slow and ugly death
Yet allow him to live and
Again and Again to the trash
Close by the house
Until one day your life is taken
Beginning, if finished
Takes faith
A lions life
Is a lonely one
Food loses its flavor
When there is no one
To share it with
A planet cannot change orbit
Without effecting the universe
Even though at first it remains unseen
Yet the flower
After the storm
Begins to stand again
The cock crows nudged by the unseen
So that the world might know
That all have been cared for
during the night
The biggest mountains
Are climbed one step
At a time
Caw Caw Mr. Crow
Looking for a bit of cherry
Perhaps breadcrust or peanut shell
For such morsels as these
You always come in evening dress
and stately manner
Day or night in shining black
How very proper you are sir
Caw Caw Mr. Crow
Caw Caw!
Is not a task of leasure
It is however one way
of telling the live fish
from the dead
The fox once caught
Will try to convince
His captor that he
Is the one ensnared
All the songs in the willful winds
Belong to him who lets them in
Joy is a bunny hopping about
Inside one's breast
A book is to be read
With some tea and some bread
Hid like a crook, in a nook, in a bed
With a fire nearby and a tear in your eye
Like a granny in a wise and quiet mind
For then comes slumber, gentle and kind
Encrypted words flew like birds
In the place of the Louvre
Humming birds and buzzing bees
Make admiring minds want to see
A man who witnesses pain and suffering
But does nothing to change or remedy it
Is a man bereft of his senses
Even the mightiest ocean
Soothes the ear and
Licks the shore
Every flower
No matter how beautiful
Starts in the dirt
Sometimes on a cool night
The smell of smoke
Can make one feel like a pine tree
Standing wooed by the fire's story
Quickened by other's restless leaves
Stretching toward a star
Only a pine needle away
Warmed by existance
One of many in a dark house
Seemingly silent
Tonight I chanced upon a pine tree
Chatting with a lamppost dress in black
I'm trimmed straight and lean
The lamppost said
I'm somewhat in between
Said the pine
And with that they chuckled gustily
Trust in love
Love in trust
G-d is love
Give to love
Love to give
Love and live
There is peace in love
A gentle urging to kindness
The birds are flying south
So tempting is the Autumn air
That one stands captive
Filling the senses
With it's pure damp cool life
Looking at the windowsill
I see four candles fluttering warm light
There is great pleasure being in my room
Thinking lazy thoughts
On this November Saturday
I've hurt someone
Now like a wrecking ball inside of me
Each memory of people I've hurt
Hollows me out
What I conceited ass I've become
A good thought is a fair and noble flight
But a good action is virtue
Emotions not expressed in day to day life
Are often expressed in dreams
Don't hold back your emotions and
You will sleep better at night
Peaceful Shadows
Patient light
Winter dawn
What whispers the wind
To the leaves that tremble?
What says the rock, as waters fall?
Beauty whispers the wind
Gushing rushing sparkling
Beauty, sounds the stone!
Passion is most well expressed
When love for another is given action
Self love, on the other hand
Is only a poor shadow of this
When slipping sands all turn to stone
When all there is to know is known
By reason that we may not cherish
All on this earth will perish
No stone left unturned
Every life, and every home
With crackling trumpet sound
All the heavens shall abound
Messiah is come in Glory!
Peace in green
Life in heat
Spring in song
Singing rainbow
Clear flowing water
The notes of the rockband
Were frayed and clashed
Until they shook my being
In seeming remeniscence
Of the earthquake earlier that day
But all the while my soul
Like waters of the ocean
Rolled forth in peace
The man undressed
Is distressed
Teachers seldom do
What they teach others to
The greatest plagues
Attack not the body
But the mind
Memory is a dancer
Just beyond my reach
So it is I am learning to dance
Peggy Peggy Peggy
Little shining Peggy
Dancing for donuts
Smiling for reggae
Turning and twisting
Jumping with bounce
I love you little Peggy
Every little ounce
As stones are for skipping
So words are for winning
The heart of a lovesick friend
Morning in the clover
Dew on the flowertops
Feet cold and wet
Dirty bottoms, dirty tops
Sun is out, yet the air is misty
See the bits of colored light
Sleep flees in vapors musty
Leaves us now in heavens hand
The shadows hid from the sunlight
Dust collected on the Venetian blinds
The sun came in the window pane
To offer me a warm hug and a cheery smile
My soul felt like hot maple syrup
As I read G-d's words eternal
Outside the wind mocked and howled
My soul sange sweet perfumed praises
Gypsy Horse
Shiny silk auburn
Sleek liquid marble
Passing thunder on the earth
Born a grace and wildness
Pensive, restless, rippling dignity
There came a tiny dancer
A twinkling in my eye
Kind words were sent a prancing
more comely by and by
The air was light and fancy
Fair music was her hair
Fierce winds her fanfair coming
Her farewell sweet breezes were
Joy is bubbles of laughter
Waiting to escape a smile
Joy is light turned into breath
Shining out with each sigh
A brightness uncomprehended
Pearl of my vision
Glowing in my eye
My heart is young
Share love with me
Or I shall surely die
Drifting in the quiet
Of a sunset afternoon
Chirping Sparrows
Cooing tardy morning doves
A calls out his off key song
No more orange rays
As the sun slips down
Other side of the horizon
Rouge pollen petals
Hearts without loving
Till a crystal teardrops
Come and adorn each
Tempering Brilliance
So softly sounds beauty
Braided green
Budding Birth
Oh fattened Butterfly
Hello Mr. bee
Shimmering and fuzzy
In the sunlight dancing
Take your time and clean
I won't chase you
Rest while you may
Until you fly away
Potatoes and eggs
Sour cream and muffins
One banana and orange juice
Down I am stuffing
Mmmmmm!
All the song in the willful wind
Belong to Him Who created them
The sunbeam pierces
The cool stream
Reflection yielding not
The warm hand of One
Cleansing the life within
Death comes soon enough
No need to lie and wait
A pig for a sty
A ring for his nose
A laborer wallowing
In food and mud
A slaughter
Tshuvah is the hardest of all staircases to climb
It is steep and ends in another dimension
One block falls another is set in its place
A baby is born an old man dies
The old bear will not leave the trash unless shot
He dies a slow and ugly death
Yet allow him to live and
Again and Again to the trash
Close by the house
Until one day your life is taken
Beginning, if finished
Takes faith
A lions life
Is a lonely one
Food loses its flavor
When there is no one
To share it with
A planet cannot change orbit
Without effecting the universe
Even though at first it remains unseen
Yet the flower
After the storm
Begins to stand again
The cock crows nudged by the unseen
So that the world might know
That all have been cared for
during the night
The biggest mountains
Are climbed one step
At a time
Caw Caw Mr. Crow
Looking for a bit of cherry
Perhaps breadcrust or peanut shell
For such morsels as these
You always come in evening dress
and stately manner
Day or night in shining black
How very proper you are sir
Caw Caw Mr. Crow
Caw Caw!
Haiku
As I lay down here
Winds whispers blanket the ear
White Autumn Blossoms
The Kackeling hens
Could not take away the peace
Of calm fall water
With sun overhead
Shady morning trees walking
October birdsong
Twin Pines sparrows flight
Standing in the morning light
Pumpkins Autumn bright
Fall rain sun sharp rays
Butterfly quivering fade
Floral horizon
A sliver of peach
Cool against purple abyss
Autumn moon silence
Winds whispers blanket the ear
White Autumn Blossoms
The Kackeling hens
Could not take away the peace
Of calm fall water
With sun overhead
Shady morning trees walking
October birdsong
Twin Pines sparrows flight
Standing in the morning light
Pumpkins Autumn bright
Fall rain sun sharp rays
Butterfly quivering fade
Floral horizon
A sliver of peach
Cool against purple abyss
Autumn moon silence
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Playhouse
In memory of the old Stephens Playhouse the morning after it burned to the down.
Shakespeare's Tempest had just just finished the eve of the fire.
Playhouse
Ashes and Black
Storm and Fire
Cold and Heat
Spirit and Passion
Heart and Soul
Tempest and Players
Theatre and Smoke
Play and Playwrite
Senses and Substance
Time and Season
Change and Moments
Dew and Green
Monday April 14th 1980
Shakespeare's Tempest had just just finished the eve of the fire.
Playhouse
Ashes and Black
Storm and Fire
Cold and Heat
Spirit and Passion
Heart and Soul
Tempest and Players
Theatre and Smoke
Play and Playwrite
Senses and Substance
Time and Season
Change and Moments
Dew and Green
Monday April 14th 1980
Okoboji -A Few Moments
The sky tonight is fabulous, already, I've seen three shooting stars.
As I look a a small plane is sputtering and going down.
The updrafts from the lakes are famously deadly, the Big Bopper,
Buddy Holly and many like them have fallen from the skys here
and more than the music has been lost. Okoboji folks tend to be
generally happy, blond haired blue eyed Viking roses. As the
fair and ruddy work the land, they are offset by midnight colored
Romani Gypsies who pave the roads, work carnivals and
sell used means of transportation.
The land here is kind of flat, however it's fresh lakes and air,
green trees and corn fields are wonderful and refreshing.
There is always a breeze blowing. Sometimes I look across the lane
from where I am staying and behold a social party of cows.
A little down the road is a farmhouse on some property.
An old woman is there, happy and full of life, painting the house,
plowing the fields, shooting groundhogs, and providing lemonade for
young dandies. The farmhouse stands like an old wise man one
might read about in a fairytale. Gray faded peeling paint to match
the enchanting smooth dead trees, which draw your whole being
into them at a glance. Dancing, whistling, whispering, shushing;
wheat, barley and oats add blowing rhythm. Majestic twin silos
stand watch over the house and barnyard, and seem to be spying
on you; secretly, silently. It is indescribable the way the sky loves
the land here; embracing and or fighting with mauve sunrises,
red lavender purple sunsets, angry dark storm clouds,
and bright yellow humid sunshine. And just when your mind tells
your eyes and soul that perhaps you should start to carry on with some
activity of the day; colored urgent by that social tempo time,
you find that you've painted yourself onto and into the texture
of the landscape. Part of you embraces and absorbs the experience
with lusty breaths, while the child in you explores with energetic
saturating, seeping curiosity it's every sensation; swimming in lakes,
running on dusty roads, floating in the flowing grasses, tumbling
through the breezes, feeling the smell of the lands damp dark
sand seeded soil through your dirt leaking hands.
SIFFFFFFT ....................-
Ah,
You turn and walk away,
the moment is over .
As I look a a small plane is sputtering and going down.
The updrafts from the lakes are famously deadly, the Big Bopper,
Buddy Holly and many like them have fallen from the skys here
and more than the music has been lost. Okoboji folks tend to be
generally happy, blond haired blue eyed Viking roses. As the
fair and ruddy work the land, they are offset by midnight colored
Romani Gypsies who pave the roads, work carnivals and
sell used means of transportation.
The land here is kind of flat, however it's fresh lakes and air,
green trees and corn fields are wonderful and refreshing.
There is always a breeze blowing. Sometimes I look across the lane
from where I am staying and behold a social party of cows.
A little down the road is a farmhouse on some property.
An old woman is there, happy and full of life, painting the house,
plowing the fields, shooting groundhogs, and providing lemonade for
young dandies. The farmhouse stands like an old wise man one
might read about in a fairytale. Gray faded peeling paint to match
the enchanting smooth dead trees, which draw your whole being
into them at a glance. Dancing, whistling, whispering, shushing;
wheat, barley and oats add blowing rhythm. Majestic twin silos
stand watch over the house and barnyard, and seem to be spying
on you; secretly, silently. It is indescribable the way the sky loves
the land here; embracing and or fighting with mauve sunrises,
red lavender purple sunsets, angry dark storm clouds,
and bright yellow humid sunshine. And just when your mind tells
your eyes and soul that perhaps you should start to carry on with some
activity of the day; colored urgent by that social tempo time,
you find that you've painted yourself onto and into the texture
of the landscape. Part of you embraces and absorbs the experience
with lusty breaths, while the child in you explores with energetic
saturating, seeping curiosity it's every sensation; swimming in lakes,
running on dusty roads, floating in the flowing grasses, tumbling
through the breezes, feeling the smell of the lands damp dark
sand seeded soil through your dirt leaking hands.
SIFFFFFFT ....................-
Ah,
You turn and walk away,
the moment is over .
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Perfect Little Neighborhood
I know of a perfect little neighborhood
With perfect little streets
Well walked I the path
Perchance a perfect one to greet
But all with averted eyes and perfect minds
Smile and follow their lovely little feet
With cleanest clean and whitest white
Each one carries along
All the ideas correct and right
With saccharin solace while retreating
To perfectly well kept abode
There to capture smugly
All that can be taken
So perfect and uneffected
By all that lies without
But the coliseums crumble
And the barbarians rush to plunder
While fat Nero rakes in taxes
Setting fire to our lives
But the perfect ones don't care
They would not know of dispair
Because for ones so good, so beautiful
Untouched by life's tawdry carnival
The shopping cart is full
With hearts so dull and dank
Like precious little piggy banks
So do not be so cruel
To break in when they are napping
With hellos and non-relevant happenings
For you are there and we are here
Those are yours and ours are these
Be off now,
Away from the well off now
Do not infect the affected
With your lower cast disease.
With perfect little streets
Well walked I the path
Perchance a perfect one to greet
But all with averted eyes and perfect minds
Smile and follow their lovely little feet
With cleanest clean and whitest white
Each one carries along
All the ideas correct and right
With saccharin solace while retreating
To perfectly well kept abode
There to capture smugly
All that can be taken
So perfect and uneffected
By all that lies without
But the coliseums crumble
And the barbarians rush to plunder
While fat Nero rakes in taxes
Setting fire to our lives
But the perfect ones don't care
They would not know of dispair
Because for ones so good, so beautiful
Untouched by life's tawdry carnival
The shopping cart is full
With hearts so dull and dank
Like precious little piggy banks
So do not be so cruel
To break in when they are napping
With hellos and non-relevant happenings
For you are there and we are here
Those are yours and ours are these
Be off now,
Away from the well off now
Do not infect the affected
With your lower cast disease.
That Queer Bird
That queer bird
So absurd
The keeps her heart
In the gizzard
Like a quarry
Full of rocks and holes
So cold Tis like a blizzard
To the onlooking souls
Dizzy in running concentric circles
Ever tighter cranial miracles
Flap your wings to catch that nat
Force feed the chicks
This and that
Fortunate you see from out each side
All that twisting and turning
Could make a bird cross-eyed
Henny Penny could not tell
She was not nearly schooled so well
As this fastidious Popinjane
So much learned and much to say
Welling ever upward
With inward urgency
Bustling activity to spend the bird
Blinded by, hell and heat you see
Squawking clarion shields
Trumpeted, brassy, Scythian, bright
She stands imperious to wild peels
and whisperings of chicks in flight
Trampled by her clumsy feet
Bones snapped like matchsticks
Scratched like flint in retreat
G-d save their little necks.
So absurd
The keeps her heart
In the gizzard
Like a quarry
Full of rocks and holes
So cold Tis like a blizzard
To the onlooking souls
Dizzy in running concentric circles
Ever tighter cranial miracles
Flap your wings to catch that nat
Force feed the chicks
This and that
Fortunate you see from out each side
All that twisting and turning
Could make a bird cross-eyed
Henny Penny could not tell
She was not nearly schooled so well
As this fastidious Popinjane
So much learned and much to say
Welling ever upward
With inward urgency
Bustling activity to spend the bird
Blinded by, hell and heat you see
Squawking clarion shields
Trumpeted, brassy, Scythian, bright
She stands imperious to wild peels
and whisperings of chicks in flight
Trampled by her clumsy feet
Bones snapped like matchsticks
Scratched like flint in retreat
G-d save their little necks.
Photos
I saw the photos, a forgotten past
Me mother's childhood home
Tears came to my eyes
And there they stopped
Mother's gone and I'm no child
Somethings gone stale
I know now, what I did not then
All humanity suffers
It should not need quantifying
Know only that it must touch all
Young or old, Spring and snow
You and I, everyone we know
Will fall and die
To see now
Where that flower grew
Is a shaking, an awakening
To others that came before
Who lived in places we never knew
And now discover only
In shadows and shades
G-d Himself must laugh
At our dim view backward
Through the windowed photograph
Only slightly better
Than the future's last.
Me mother's childhood home
Tears came to my eyes
And there they stopped
Mother's gone and I'm no child
Somethings gone stale
I know now, what I did not then
All humanity suffers
It should not need quantifying
Know only that it must touch all
Young or old, Spring and snow
You and I, everyone we know
Will fall and die
To see now
Where that flower grew
Is a shaking, an awakening
To others that came before
Who lived in places we never knew
And now discover only
In shadows and shades
G-d Himself must laugh
At our dim view backward
Through the windowed photograph
Only slightly better
Than the future's last.
A Time for Reflection, a Last Wisp of Home
When I arrived at court, I expected, no feared, the king and queen to be at deaths door. However, to my surprise, I found them both very much alive. The king was gruff, full of frowns and forgetfulness. He never spoke unless spoken to. The queen often spoke her mind in measured words; loving, fearful, angry and kind. Gentle was the royal egress, as the handmaids came and went. The king and queen slept and read, turning in each page waking thoughts and dreams.They came no more to court, but held fast with guests in the inner chambers. At court were royalty, courtiers and knaves. I was fortunate enough to dine with princes and join in much merry making. Yet sadness was upon the kingdom, the estates lay unkempt and the fields fallow. The pale of broken hearts veiled many a face, but love and youth prevailed. With chirping birds in the treetops to help create a sometime betterment in dreams at rest.
Waking
I have found at the end of day and beyond the night
Whence begins the morn
The most assured way
of winnowing in the play
To rid one's self
Of friends and loved ones faces
Fondly fair in far off places
Wash in dawn's blessed air
Sheets and cheeks
Brow and hair
Limbs and ears
Till eyes go there
And pleasant images drift behind
Drawn back to the center
Like a flower's fragrance rising
Into clouds of coming winter.
Whence begins the morn
The most assured way
of winnowing in the play
To rid one's self
Of friends and loved ones faces
Fondly fair in far off places
Wash in dawn's blessed air
Sheets and cheeks
Brow and hair
Limbs and ears
Till eyes go there
And pleasant images drift behind
Drawn back to the center
Like a flower's fragrance rising
Into clouds of coming winter.
Troubled Sleep
Rocks, stones, boulders drop
Falling, rolling down
Plunging ever toward....
Returning never
The prize now eaten
My soul feels beaten
Blankets wet and heavy
Sand at the levy
Billows blue over me go
Down below I'm looking skyward
I dare not write for clarity speaks
a cruel message of one so weak
Overcome now in the lion's mouth
The truth of things is hard to face
For hungry me in mine into self every place
To live, to care, to give
These to grasp inside my face.
Falling, rolling down
Plunging ever toward....
Returning never
The prize now eaten
My soul feels beaten
Blankets wet and heavy
Sand at the levy
Billows blue over me go
Down below I'm looking skyward
I dare not write for clarity speaks
a cruel message of one so weak
Overcome now in the lion's mouth
The truth of things is hard to face
For hungry me in mine into self every place
To live, to care, to give
These to grasp inside my face.
The Sign
The birds fly toward the sunset
When they return I know not
I asked for a sign from the One on high
I found then the place where the Peregrine slept
That prince of freedom that traversed the
Sunrise heavens and beyond the peak of day
Lay broken now in the bushy green shadows
His lifeless talons still clutching the tender branch
As if at life to hold
The splendor of his royal coat undiminished
As was his glorious winged form
So I buried him and my daughter marked his grave
Beyond the estates and gardens not less than 3 love ones flew away
Each one greater than most and sweetly fruitful
So this is the message then,
even the greatest among us
Those that we wish to emulate,
Are plucked from the stock, tree, bush, field and vine
We to then, who are either lowly in visage
Or climbing to the stars will be harvested when ripe
And no amount of mourning, ceremony or memorial
Can make clear the eroding extinguished life
Save that which is eternal and unknowable
At this time.
The only certainty
that this proclamation brings
Is that with every rising sun
Many countless stars
Drift beyond our gravity and view
Until we are invited and taken in
To shine in that community
Of the unseen forevermore.
When they return I know not
I asked for a sign from the One on high
I found then the place where the Peregrine slept
That prince of freedom that traversed the
Sunrise heavens and beyond the peak of day
Lay broken now in the bushy green shadows
His lifeless talons still clutching the tender branch
As if at life to hold
The splendor of his royal coat undiminished
As was his glorious winged form
So I buried him and my daughter marked his grave
Beyond the estates and gardens not less than 3 love ones flew away
Each one greater than most and sweetly fruitful
So this is the message then,
even the greatest among us
Those that we wish to emulate,
Are plucked from the stock, tree, bush, field and vine
We to then, who are either lowly in visage
Or climbing to the stars will be harvested when ripe
And no amount of mourning, ceremony or memorial
Can make clear the eroding extinguished life
Save that which is eternal and unknowable
At this time.
The only certainty
that this proclamation brings
Is that with every rising sun
Many countless stars
Drift beyond our gravity and view
Until we are invited and taken in
To shine in that community
Of the unseen forevermore.
Sleeping in the Clouds
Melting, melting
In and out of sleep
Like a rock thrown into
Into the slow and deep
Like the pebbles
Back down the mountainside
On a silent Harley Blue Electraglide
In and out of the slow motion scene
Thoughts and Whispers
In my head careen
Till the buttery bumpy
Jet engines scream
And the G forces press my mind
Like soft rubber ice cream
Slinky neck and brow so low
Floating forward into eye of blue
The cold air hangs all about
Like frozen dew
Then scratching over my consciousness
Comes the tin can voice
Of aft attending stewardess
So the Time is traced
By the dull yawning roar
Through speed and splendor to embrace
The ethereal snowdrifts and blowing cotton rushes
So turn me now Like a New York spinning door
Hold my soul as my spirit soars in the mist
And my thoughts lay on the floor
In my fist lies the grist
Of this sleepy awakening.
In and out of sleep
Like a rock thrown into
Into the slow and deep
Like the pebbles
Back down the mountainside
On a silent Harley Blue Electraglide
In and out of the slow motion scene
Thoughts and Whispers
In my head careen
Till the buttery bumpy
Jet engines scream
And the G forces press my mind
Like soft rubber ice cream
Slinky neck and brow so low
Floating forward into eye of blue
The cold air hangs all about
Like frozen dew
Then scratching over my consciousness
Comes the tin can voice
Of aft attending stewardess
So the Time is traced
By the dull yawning roar
Through speed and splendor to embrace
The ethereal snowdrifts and blowing cotton rushes
So turn me now Like a New York spinning door
Hold my soul as my spirit soars in the mist
And my thoughts lay on the floor
In my fist lies the grist
Of this sleepy awakening.
On Family
I would steer my ship on board the prow
Of that woman who has grasped my spirit
Took what I offered and gave me children
Rather than to bath in the seas
Of uncontrolled stormy pleasures
She reached from beyond my place
And plucked me up to maturity
In a place where the world could wear off
In that solemn peace I found awareness
With greater warmth of connectedness
Moored to those who teach something greater
The giving of oneself for life's mate and kindela
O how is it that this tired selfish one is so blest
Only G-d Himself knows
But in your arms and by your side I am healed
My breath I take from gazing upon the smiles of my children
The stars in their eyes cause my heart to beat
How has this dream become my life
Many thanks offers one whose words cannot match
The task of uttering such
To the Holder of all things.
Of that woman who has grasped my spirit
Took what I offered and gave me children
Rather than to bath in the seas
Of uncontrolled stormy pleasures
She reached from beyond my place
And plucked me up to maturity
In a place where the world could wear off
In that solemn peace I found awareness
With greater warmth of connectedness
Moored to those who teach something greater
The giving of oneself for life's mate and kindela
O how is it that this tired selfish one is so blest
Only G-d Himself knows
But in your arms and by your side I am healed
My breath I take from gazing upon the smiles of my children
The stars in their eyes cause my heart to beat
How has this dream become my life
Many thanks offers one whose words cannot match
The task of uttering such
To the Holder of all things.
Opera
There comes next the steady roar of the great falls within
Seldom seen, seldom engaged these days
That underground river, from the aquifer of creativity
A force from which I came and to where I go
Until that day there is a shadow of such
Here in this life, most wondrous of opiates
That bathes the soul and takes it to the heights of Orion's country
Through the fire of earths core
In the sun's flares and the ocean's green and blue depths
You are loved, constellation of this constitution frail
To you many visit and are captured in the rushes all in all
By your fire, heroes live and die in the heat
Then carried with the vapors we rise again with them
With wings that do not wear out
Even though in the bonds of Terran clay
Who can vanquish you who play the human soul
With your caressing torrent of sound, song, colors, lights, blood and emotion
Leviathan Beast, Opera is the wrong name for thee
For you are not the stilted thing supposed
By those sleepy authorities who propagate your Via del' Amor
Resounding with the force of life in the deepest heart of man
Your name can only be uttered in dreams and cannot be recalled in waking
A Lunar whisper that pulls from behind the Northern Lights
To call us back to the creation of all things, raw and untamed
Till the supernovas and nebulae cast the soul back at speed of light to ourselves once again
note:
This Opera thing, must surely be some foretaste of a glory
Yet to be revealed and beyond the realm of the known cosmos
When I first heard Luciano Pavarotti, I thought heaven had
opened and I was hearing a man with the voice of an angel.
Seldom seen, seldom engaged these days
That underground river, from the aquifer of creativity
A force from which I came and to where I go
Until that day there is a shadow of such
Here in this life, most wondrous of opiates
That bathes the soul and takes it to the heights of Orion's country
Through the fire of earths core
In the sun's flares and the ocean's green and blue depths
You are loved, constellation of this constitution frail
To you many visit and are captured in the rushes all in all
By your fire, heroes live and die in the heat
Then carried with the vapors we rise again with them
With wings that do not wear out
Even though in the bonds of Terran clay
Who can vanquish you who play the human soul
With your caressing torrent of sound, song, colors, lights, blood and emotion
Leviathan Beast, Opera is the wrong name for thee
For you are not the stilted thing supposed
By those sleepy authorities who propagate your Via del' Amor
Resounding with the force of life in the deepest heart of man
Your name can only be uttered in dreams and cannot be recalled in waking
A Lunar whisper that pulls from behind the Northern Lights
To call us back to the creation of all things, raw and untamed
Till the supernovas and nebulae cast the soul back at speed of light to ourselves once again
note:
This Opera thing, must surely be some foretaste of a glory
Yet to be revealed and beyond the realm of the known cosmos
When I first heard Luciano Pavarotti, I thought heaven had
opened and I was hearing a man with the voice of an angel.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Vegas
The drumbeat of lights hit the eyes
Of all who swam through the sea of sensation
Ping, Pop, Bing, Ring, Tatatatatatatatatat!
The sounds like waves above
pressed down upon us and then ebbed away
In a steady rhythm of tides
The smoke gheist waded in and stirred
The flow within every breath
In a pale inky silence
While each sensual statement expressed its procession
The Statues ached and cracked
As they blindly drank in the show
Naked and unfeeling like lost souls
As time in times past
Here the spirit of forgotten Rome
Drank in the wayward hordes
Only to cast them off again after the games
Fountains of coins clanged as they showered down
Like little metal birds from whence they came
The fabric gold
The satin dress
A plunging back
From the Athenian Arch
I looked down along
A neck fine and rare
To a vanishing point dark and unrelenting
There many dreams rested
On the vaulted brush beaten sky
The ancient pillagers looked down
Upon the reflections of the polished marbled plain
And caught me out all in vain
Till another, and another should fill my eyes and soul
Again and Again
Like an overwhelming fountain upon my thirst
Candied lips
Dazzling eyes
A turn of a hip
A stab of a heel
So fair a skin
So keen the smile
Rounding away
On a beautiful thigh
And coming again
Those generous seekers
A shoulder bared
To catch a sigh
For the gaze of a Venus
At the top of the nape
Beneath the flax
To the curves clinging well
All that ripples among us
In the hearth and hind of Vegas.
Of all who swam through the sea of sensation
Ping, Pop, Bing, Ring, Tatatatatatatatatat!
The sounds like waves above
pressed down upon us and then ebbed away
In a steady rhythm of tides
The smoke gheist waded in and stirred
The flow within every breath
In a pale inky silence
While each sensual statement expressed its procession
The Statues ached and cracked
As they blindly drank in the show
Naked and unfeeling like lost souls
As time in times past
Here the spirit of forgotten Rome
Drank in the wayward hordes
Only to cast them off again after the games
Fountains of coins clanged as they showered down
Like little metal birds from whence they came
The fabric gold
The satin dress
A plunging back
From the Athenian Arch
I looked down along
A neck fine and rare
To a vanishing point dark and unrelenting
There many dreams rested
On the vaulted brush beaten sky
The ancient pillagers looked down
Upon the reflections of the polished marbled plain
And caught me out all in vain
Till another, and another should fill my eyes and soul
Again and Again
Like an overwhelming fountain upon my thirst
Candied lips
Dazzling eyes
A turn of a hip
A stab of a heel
So fair a skin
So keen the smile
Rounding away
On a beautiful thigh
And coming again
Those generous seekers
A shoulder bared
To catch a sigh
For the gaze of a Venus
At the top of the nape
Beneath the flax
To the curves clinging well
All that ripples among us
In the hearth and hind of Vegas.
Norse poetry rehashed in Broken German
Ich trage
Aber rueh nicht gefinden
Warum Flehen die Kraehe
Kennen sie nicht Freudens Tag
Ya es ist ferkommen
Wen alles menchen sind frei
Dan wild wir in das meers sonnenschein stehn
Un in das morgenlicht
unsere glucklich ewigkeit werden gefinden
Und der Jungster Tag ist heil
Mit engels stimmen
Von das hause Die Almacht
Die Morgenstern hat aufgegangen
Eben Nacht und Tod hinlegen gebrochen!
Aber rueh nicht gefinden
Warum Flehen die Kraehe
Kennen sie nicht Freudens Tag
Ya es ist ferkommen
Wen alles menchen sind frei
Dan wild wir in das meers sonnenschein stehn
Un in das morgenlicht
unsere glucklich ewigkeit werden gefinden
Und der Jungster Tag ist heil
Mit engels stimmen
Von das hause Die Almacht
Die Morgenstern hat aufgegangen
Eben Nacht und Tod hinlegen gebrochen!
Chicago Coffee Shop
He with the snow and winds
Knew not where the when began
At the Great Lake's northern shore
The ice frozen over
But the sun shown through
Past the forward thoughts
Into the moment new
Voices lively fill the space
Of the traveler's eye
In this place a ruddy cheek
A guarded hand, hidden glance
The conversation starts up again
What a very pleasant thing
Being asked to play the game
That winged thing had not alighted for some time
Sounded in the Nessie's fyord
Dawning days and days gone before
Fish and Chips with one drink more
Palms touch and fingers clasp
A gush of words, no more than that
New Orleans and Los Angeles
Rained down on Chicago like wet snow
Focused through the prism of a precipitous view
Then evaporated like vapor into the crowd
A spectator once more.
Knew not where the when began
At the Great Lake's northern shore
The ice frozen over
But the sun shown through
Past the forward thoughts
Into the moment new
Voices lively fill the space
Of the traveler's eye
In this place a ruddy cheek
A guarded hand, hidden glance
The conversation starts up again
What a very pleasant thing
Being asked to play the game
That winged thing had not alighted for some time
Sounded in the Nessie's fyord
Dawning days and days gone before
Fish and Chips with one drink more
Palms touch and fingers clasp
A gush of words, no more than that
New Orleans and Los Angeles
Rained down on Chicago like wet snow
Focused through the prism of a precipitous view
Then evaporated like vapor into the crowd
A spectator once more.
Every 7th Day
Every 7th day
And every slumbering night
Turn the strong yellow sun
To the shimmer of starlight
The poet cannot tell
What lies beyond the stars
And every deep interior
Contains an uncertainty
That none can see
Of what it is
And what's to be
When we are not.
And every slumbering night
Turn the strong yellow sun
To the shimmer of starlight
The poet cannot tell
What lies beyond the stars
And every deep interior
Contains an uncertainty
That none can see
Of what it is
And what's to be
When we are not.
Billionaire of Youth
Once there was a boy
So full of joy
On top of it all
He ran wild and free
A dragon was slain before breakfast
A princess would attend for tea
The world could be taken
And time needed no appointment
His sinews were supple
And beautiful to behold
In his eyes shown the Universe
Birds spoke volumes of poetry
As they flew through the sky of his heart
Love was breath itself
And no hand could arrest his soul
I remember when a blue sky revealed
What kind of beasts played there
In the churning pillowed plumes
And rolling over to release
A blast of steady stream
Meant scattering the Dandy-lion's
Universe of stars
Time marched in the Foreign Legion
And it's rifle salute did not
Trifle with the Robin's call
Nor could it blot out
The red of the Cardinal
Each breath of air was
Sweet like Honey and my breast the comb
When love and buttercups provided
Equal sensations of vibrant sun
The breeze played the strings upon my head
And caressed my neck and cheek
With a question for a slide
I played the seesawed game of childhood
And climbed each green apple tree
To a pirate captains treasure
As Robinhood I snatched the black ripened grapes
Of neighboring vines and lustily consumed
The candied pleasures beneath their dusty coats
And a dance sprung from my legs
The the song of the moment
Be off to every kind of game
And to every kind of friend
He was a billionaire of youth
A prince in foreign lands
No one spoke a word that
That he sought to understand
Playing at what is learned
Taking what was free
Damming what is earned
That Caesar looked with pride upon is empire
Nero fiddled as it burned
The pain caused the boy to leave
When he came back he wasn't the same
His joy was robbed, plundered and gone
He needed to get away more often
On ever increasing journeys in search of joy
He lived in and through others
He traveled through substances
And floated freely high upon entertainment
The boy swam in projects, goals and dreams
The future became the present
The past followed in dreams
But much of the now was forever lost
The empire now destroyed
And no one comes to call
There are none fascinated to listen
Ans shadows are growing tall
Now moonlight causes sands to glisten
Dimly recalling the fortunes now spent
The glory of what was, now lies bleeding
The green estates have been exchanged
For the desert's expanse of crystalline spray
And this wind-tattered dusty tent.
So full of joy
On top of it all
He ran wild and free
A dragon was slain before breakfast
A princess would attend for tea
The world could be taken
And time needed no appointment
His sinews were supple
And beautiful to behold
In his eyes shown the Universe
Birds spoke volumes of poetry
As they flew through the sky of his heart
Love was breath itself
And no hand could arrest his soul
I remember when a blue sky revealed
What kind of beasts played there
In the churning pillowed plumes
And rolling over to release
A blast of steady stream
Meant scattering the Dandy-lion's
Universe of stars
Time marched in the Foreign Legion
And it's rifle salute did not
Trifle with the Robin's call
Nor could it blot out
The red of the Cardinal
Each breath of air was
Sweet like Honey and my breast the comb
When love and buttercups provided
Equal sensations of vibrant sun
The breeze played the strings upon my head
And caressed my neck and cheek
With a question for a slide
I played the seesawed game of childhood
And climbed each green apple tree
To a pirate captains treasure
As Robinhood I snatched the black ripened grapes
Of neighboring vines and lustily consumed
The candied pleasures beneath their dusty coats
And a dance sprung from my legs
The the song of the moment
Be off to every kind of game
And to every kind of friend
He was a billionaire of youth
A prince in foreign lands
No one spoke a word that
That he sought to understand
Playing at what is learned
Taking what was free
Damming what is earned
That Caesar looked with pride upon is empire
Nero fiddled as it burned
The pain caused the boy to leave
When he came back he wasn't the same
His joy was robbed, plundered and gone
He needed to get away more often
On ever increasing journeys in search of joy
He lived in and through others
He traveled through substances
And floated freely high upon entertainment
The boy swam in projects, goals and dreams
The future became the present
The past followed in dreams
But much of the now was forever lost
The empire now destroyed
And no one comes to call
There are none fascinated to listen
Ans shadows are growing tall
Now moonlight causes sands to glisten
Dimly recalling the fortunes now spent
The glory of what was, now lies bleeding
The green estates have been exchanged
For the desert's expanse of crystalline spray
And this wind-tattered dusty tent.
The Horse's Ass
I tried to lead the horse
Like an Ass he led me
That thick souled spirit
Really acts the nag
I would run him on the mountains
Mingled among mustangs and clouds
But he'd rather in the muddy wadis roam
Yet he carries me well enough
And tramples on the serpent's head
Once he's had his fill of clover
Open air, meadow, flower and stream
Only once broken does he do his master's bidding
Otherwise his backward glance condescends to offer
A bellicose Neigh above the thunderous gallup
Whereas I am left to choke on the dust
Laughing and cursing that which is quixotic,
Unbridled and an utterly human condition
A working out of the process of balance
The struggle of life and character
Whether to tear at the wind with the thoroughbreds,
Run with the mustangs,
Pull the plow with the farmer
Or just sit like an ass.
7XWHUDBCB8ZG
Like an Ass he led me
That thick souled spirit
Really acts the nag
I would run him on the mountains
Mingled among mustangs and clouds
But he'd rather in the muddy wadis roam
Yet he carries me well enough
And tramples on the serpent's head
Once he's had his fill of clover
Open air, meadow, flower and stream
Only once broken does he do his master's bidding
Otherwise his backward glance condescends to offer
A bellicose Neigh above the thunderous gallup
Whereas I am left to choke on the dust
Laughing and cursing that which is quixotic,
Unbridled and an utterly human condition
A working out of the process of balance
The struggle of life and character
Whether to tear at the wind with the thoroughbreds,
Run with the mustangs,
Pull the plow with the farmer
Or just sit like an ass.
7XWHUDBCB8ZG
Wanting Wanderer
Long before I read the story of Abraham
I knew that I was a sojourner on this earth
Destined to wander but never finding rest
Like a crooked block tossed on
A symmetrical pegboard landscape
Both detached yet present
Never fully connect, drifting onward
Having the Love of the Creator
Place in an otherwise hollow self
My sun of gravity, the black hole of being
Thank G-d for mercy, lest I collapse inward
The crush of time's weight perhaps life's only refinement
Caught in a web of pedestrian life
I march on like Pierre in War and Peace
All the while admiring the one who prays
"Lay me down like a stone,
And raise me up like a loaf."
While desiring all that this fleeting life has to offer.
I knew that I was a sojourner on this earth
Destined to wander but never finding rest
Like a crooked block tossed on
A symmetrical pegboard landscape
Both detached yet present
Never fully connect, drifting onward
Having the Love of the Creator
Place in an otherwise hollow self
My sun of gravity, the black hole of being
Thank G-d for mercy, lest I collapse inward
The crush of time's weight perhaps life's only refinement
Caught in a web of pedestrian life
I march on like Pierre in War and Peace
All the while admiring the one who prays
"Lay me down like a stone,
And raise me up like a loaf."
While desiring all that this fleeting life has to offer.
Inverted Reflections
I have failed to be a man
I have failed to understand
I have failed to truly see
All thats needed to make it be
I sit in the defeats of the day
Till the dawn of a way
When to see if I remain
The Kingdom of my domain
Or at least a land of peers
Not of witless turning gears
Not of quiet panic in running sheilas
And without dandy Homo sapien fellas
Then throw out the politically correct
Along with all Bureaucratic suspects
Only then can my mind turn clear
My heart calm down
And soul shed dispair
Yet the spirit shall take flight
Beyond this pallor'd vale
To transcend and look down
On all those choices
Stuck deep in muddy ground
Of Terra Firma spinning round
Still in all that can be
Looking out I can see
A wealth of family
Beautiful sons, wife and daughter
Health and orchard
Pets birds and flowers
These upon me are showered
Gifts from above that same hour.
I have failed to understand
I have failed to truly see
All thats needed to make it be
I sit in the defeats of the day
Till the dawn of a way
When to see if I remain
The Kingdom of my domain
Or at least a land of peers
Not of witless turning gears
Not of quiet panic in running sheilas
And without dandy Homo sapien fellas
Then throw out the politically correct
Along with all Bureaucratic suspects
Only then can my mind turn clear
My heart calm down
And soul shed dispair
Yet the spirit shall take flight
Beyond this pallor'd vale
To transcend and look down
On all those choices
Stuck deep in muddy ground
Of Terra Firma spinning round
Still in all that can be
Looking out I can see
A wealth of family
Beautiful sons, wife and daughter
Health and orchard
Pets birds and flowers
These upon me are showered
Gifts from above that same hour.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)