poetry & things

Poems

Altar of dawn

In this desert

I touch the ocean within,

here where I abandon all plans,

I spend hours watching cloud formations

of flowers blooming violet, red.

I travel to the sanctuary of the soul

each morning, sit silent

at the altar of dawn.

Yaqui man

You are a traveler of the South lands

brown, a leathered skin coyote

desert walker of the Sonoran sands

crafty, black magic witch

a shaman, lucid dreamer

Yaqui Indian spell weaver

of visions, of paintings in the sand

mixing colors, peyote flowers

red, the melting of the aloe bowers

dark blood, the blooming agave towers

thick with snakes, the fire and hiss

that burns black of sacaton grass

the quiver and flash of flying sparks

igniting night, time traveling to the stars.

Woman of sea and moon

Ocean swimming, buoyant blue

salt encrusted hair of jewels

seaweed shimmering, waves entangling

savoring, deep her belly breath of sea

with a mermaid tail, to flash in hues of green

wearing rings and pearls, she swirls in a sea of stars

radiantly, far below the moon.

Winter Sea

Winter – your face, of ice and snow

the blowing cold, of sailing northward on

lost in a flailing storm

of thundering, blackness

bleak sea of the nearly drowned

wicked, the splitting williwaw groan

the haunting of the howl and moan

To travel

I am looking at maps, constellations and planets

plotting routes to drive, to hike this country

seems I would stagnate and die

were I to stay put all of the time

my eyes scale topographies

like braille, my fingers feel

the green of flowering fields

the rain running down hills

always I dream of skies

I envy birds flying over

in cities, I don’t seem to settle

pace this floor, a caged animal

daydream of wilderness walks,

spending nights watching stars fall

the heavenly peace of it all.

This tea

This tea, I steep

red apple, your kiss

alizarin crimson, wet

impossibly sweet

you soothe, I drink

your lingering lips

poured with honey milk

by the fire, consumed

of love infused

with herbs and leaves

this tea, I drink.

Morning colors

In the morning red hibiscus flowers

yesterday’s petals have fallen to the ground

a hummingbird briefly hovers

in flashes, green iridescent feathered

soon the silver sun comes from behind clouds

reflections, in spectrum colors

of painted sky, brush strokes

in watercolors of dawn

the heart, a lotus flower

center of the soul

that opens.

In the deep end

I stay awake with stars, thinking of your eyes

amber fields, flecked with golden moons

your lips, red cast by secret coral worlds

swim, my hands you catch in woven nets

roped hair of salt and seaweed curls

hold my breath, catch and save myself

nightly, in the deep end, just before I drown.

In Dragoon with you

I cannot lose the images, though I try

still the memories of Dragoon imbue my mind

evenings beneath agave moons, full bloomed

the silhouetted century plant flowers

the day’s last light, the final sun shadows

our night hikes under Venus skies

signaled the fall, the bright blinking call

of night sweeping stars, and too the flashing,

the sparkling gold of our two souls

unearthed amid the giant stones

ancient, sacred through the ages

in the moments of truth

when love finds a home.

elemental

love me

elemental as

wind, water, fire

wild in billowing fields

drenched watery wet in sweat

of all other things make me forget

igniting dreams of lightening steam

all the ordinary world evaporating

Desert day

On days like this

cool, with little winds

desert birds forage for sticks

they build nests perched in cactus

some build green in palo verde trees

always I think of baby birds in spring

hatchlings, the fledglings that fly

I travel far beyond the noise of towns

watch the movement of cooling clouds

the roundness of rain upon the ground

the grey banked scurrilous skies

of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm

daisies that close, cold amid the stones

beneath where snakes and lizards go

slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros

and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

Desert bones

Ashen grey, weathered wood

splintered, white bone

hollowed by the desert sun

skull and backbones

laid to rest, wind blown

sunk in sifting sands, exposed

by wet washing squalls

drinking water into steam

interwoven, dead with weeds

iridescent beetles and scorpions

glints of pyrite, diamond stones

the haunting wind, that moans

wild through hollows and holes.

Buddha

Your heart – all knowing, that finds me

blooming, a lotus flower unfurling

sepals and petals, morning yellow

of golden birds, gilded meadows

of grasses green, your wisdom eyes

of flashing fields that shine

we are infinitely interwoven by

the sacred that is unspoken

by all that is divine.

Winters like this

Cold clouds, white in the greying skies

deep, they loom in the snowy heights

a frozen state, this silent place

where we have come

Ice, thick walled, that waits for spring

the trickle of water, that flows beneath

to see beyond cloud occlusions

our doleful delusions

Buried by northerly drifts of snow

our love, cold and far below

banked and piled high

lost to winter’s long goodbye

Tricky weather

Only a desert of blowing dust

a junk yard of weathered metal rust

the brutal blare of scorching sun

the cold of winter’s raining snow

an ever changing, tricky season

a killing storm without reason

only a metaphor to explore

the hot and cold – of you

that I deplore.

Some lonely place

When you pass this way

will you think of our long burning hours

the melting, the rendering as one,

radiant, the raveling of our two souls?

Or will you think only of the untangling,

the tattering of our love – apart?

Will the evening shadows cast

a glow across the prairie fields,

the flowers that we picked?

Or will a wistful wind brush your face,

indelibly, now in some lonely place

where we once stood?

Salt water

First the soft biting

lips and all the rest

your hands, this landscape

a smooth curved road

of breath hot summer, the swelter

this endless sky, an ocean to discover

salt water of my lover

Of the ocean

You are of the ocean

of lime, salt water green seaweed

clinging, brown threaded, verily suspended

ebbing in the far off edges, unseen

steeped in luminous moons, mad colored

a time traveler, plumbing ageless depths of sea

strung with opulent pearls, swallowed by hourglass sands

a light discovered, bright in the shoal shimmering lands.

Fragmented dream

The air here is slow, it breathes like steam

a fog bank hovers, settles within

time does not tick ahead

I stare at minute hands

this room is silent snow

falling, colored blue – then drifts

cold through broken windows

a fragmented dream

of you

Beguiled

On my doorstep a poetry book, you left

cold with night winds, shivering words

written in your hand, poems I never read

I saw the way you tried to pretend

like there was something, somehow to mend

that night you descended like an angel

maybe Gabriel, sweetly musical

while Christmas songs played on the radio

I watched as holiday lights flew by

all the while your angelic disguise beguiled

felt the weight of deep denial

but I blame the stark desert moon

blame your entrancing wicked eyes

our foolish lonesome desires

and still I don’t regret

that night, the blue hot,

burning of the fire.

Woodland rains

The rain it pooled deep within the leaf, the hollow

and drank there – insect, vole and swallow

along a mud and marshy path, my feet for to follow

and tread upon the lichen moss, I sank softly greening

and watched all the day, the trickle of the woodland trees

the light that breathed there glistening

Storm

Swift, the rain in colors grey

black the daylight whisked away

by steely skies, charcoal smudged

the ashen clouds amid blowing winds

surreal this field, this pelted land

the scream of hurried birds, that scatter

Saguaro people

Cool cloud shrouded air, here where I find myself

surrounded by giants, legends, these mountains

I am miniscule as one grain of sand

the people here are giant, green saguaros

holey, with birds that live within

they are fit with wild reaching arms

guardians of the desert land

anchored, deeply grounded

in this whirling vortex

unhurriedly they grow

blooming yellow flowered

with petals that pale and fall

they are true friends

that I have come

to know

Picking rosemary

Blue flowered in the warm sun of winter

pungent fragrance wafts splendorous

smallish leaves, grow deeply green

with a sun-ward slant they lean

hum and sing with bees

reaching ever upward

wild, their fingers untamed

vigorous, they flourish

lushly in the lane

our hands grow green stained

here in a dream field

handfuls of rosemary

we steal

If in winter

Vast, this snowy land

still and deep the quiet country

cold the cloudy fog we breathe

gasping winds that rise and break the silence

along a fence line, slowly disappearing

how small the trees and distant hills that fade like smoke

and loom the clouds like ghosts, blooming madly white – the sky

if in winter we should meet deep along some snowy height

gazing as the grey and whites fade swiftly into night

some evening silently await the moon, void of words to speak

with great Peace – to breathe beneath the great north star that shines

In this wilderness

To end this, is to run blindly – falling

loose limbs wild and flailing

with hands that can no longer grasp

a saving grace, a final branch

we are lost in desolation

it is pure wilderness

a long winter’s night

with no path or tracks

to follow, cold like snow

we plow this landscape, barren

deep and dark below

to seep into the soul

lingering long in limbo

the ache of holding on

transformed into

the pain of

letting go

When I think of you

Storm clouds

of black thunder

electrical, magnetic powered

sparks lashing, loose wired

consumed by lightening fire

a wild red, blazing blue

hot, the smouldering coals of you

the final burning through

a certain kind of death

grey the ashes

of our truth

These things take time

These things take time

like the desert spiny lizard

now dessicated and dried

run over, flattened and tough as leather

too slow for the speed limit

of twenty five, found on my way

to check the mail, I mourned a little

always waiting for unpredictable things

to arrive, these things take time

like the rusting of street signs

the perfectly smooth stones

tumbled and refined

or today noticing the hole

in the sole of my shoe

that’s now worn through

there were ten days

of blaring hot sun, we melted some

but today, yes today

the clouds did come.

The night sky

Nightfall, dark with planets

cold desolate sky home

stars amid nebulous winds, swirling

cool, icing, caked in frozen states

cynosure of volatile fates

the fiery red that melts blue

tonight a slow float of milk clouds

a diaphanous, transient veil

drifts its way across

the moon, so pale

The Mirror

Lonesome

this dying fire

the darkening sky

now, barely a glint of sun

a dismal line of light

swift that fades into the night

starless black water

this mirror pool

reflections of

you and I

The mad sun

When I dream this desert turns green, blooms

clouds race where mountain lions loom

ash gray, the cool of blue rain comes

a redolent wind of desert sea

rushing waves, sand blown

sculpted saguaro forests

pale flowered yellow

drinking every drop

now this eve we drink

now before another dawn

of the mad thirsty sun

My lips are cracked leather

lizard dry, my breath melts into mirage

beetles emerge from dark caves

in flashes of iridescence, crawling

their tiny tracks, surreal sand paintings

art for cactus wren, hunting

Here, beyond yet another

sparkling diamond mound

lies a wild sea of the sailing ships, I’ve found

Of stars

Winter, the amber fire

of ashen woods, we burned

wet the smoulder of mire

the water and the fire

dark ancestress home

nights, moon shivering, cold

stars fixed or falling

beyond the skies fiery yields

only dying embers

lost in oblivion’s field

Into the woods

When I travel far from crowds

find myself grey, in the raining clouds

I run far into the cedar woods

of green and mossy loam

with birds, I fly from storms

deep in a world

sweet with maidenhair ferns

soft the moss, to touch

as newborn rabbit’s fur

many the hour

under sparkling trees

of yellow maples glistening

the chirping words, of smallest birds

that I can never see

echo sweet, I dream and sleep

sink into perfect peace

beneath the rainforest canopy

In the water

Cerulean blue, the mad rippling

how I crave water, sometimes even green

in Spring the melting of me

smooth stoned, to go slipping

pools and pools, swimming

to feel an ocean here inside

a storm of clouds collide

unhinged from fire’s dream

a torrent, a waterfall

of holy water

evaporating into

steam

In the river

To enter shallow water

feel the cooling cold of our toes

smooth the slippery stones

move, the deeper we go

to cross a blood red river

ever to dredge the soul

deep in places unknown

we walk through a door

though many still sleeping

remain waiting at

the shore

In the night sky

I am surrounded by night, windless

hot as fever, even more troubled

the places I’ve called home, abandoned

along with everyone, days in a desert alone

I speak to no one, only the sky

the night moon, my mother

whispers in metaphor

something brilliant

I tremble, quiver

in time with

the stars

Half moon day

Some days, this desert

under spells of sun and moon

think, I brood in fields of agave blue

the angled sun blares sharp to parch

to dry, to crackle leaves to dust

tricky this prickly pear cactus

bitter thorns, laden with

impossible blood sweet fruit

while high and seen out the corner

of my eye, the half moon smiles

beguiled by the sun

Gently (10w)

Be gentle as you breathe

your days away

all count

Fiery field

How I loved your mouth

the way your words belled forth

rang in soothing song

your lips and all the rest

days of coming home

in meadows or prairie suns

by love’s fiery field

how we were

consumed

Farewell my lover

Never call me, on nights fierce with storm

blowing wild with lightening, thunder

no never, and though fretful, I tremble

through raging rains

I go alone

Please don’t come over

leaving little notes, so clever

hot and cold, was our weather

farewell my lover

alas it is finally over

Ethereal flower

Love silent, falls

it touches soft, invisibly floats

unseen by the scope of eyes

comes brushing by, or comes in a down pouring,

wet washing the soul, unwavering, wordless it unfolds

travels most rugged terrain, smooths the way

there is no season for its efflorescence

it sits, a silent bud, any moment to flower

always we know it’s fragrance

it is the way, the path

a flitting, ethereal flower

one, that we can never grasp

Desert purification

Sonoran desert

sacred hot breathed

scorch of footsteps, blood red sands

sun bleached, grey boned skulls

this wash, a hallowed holy ghost

unnerving place, this hiss of fire

molten and slow

hot as fever, red prickling sweat

the Yaqui man you’ve met

undulating in a purification ceremony

lashing, the energy cords cut

he is laughing like coyote, wild eyed

green the velvet, desert peyote

and you have come to understand

the universe in a fleck of sand

Colors of day

Gathering colors of day

sea of green viridian, washing storms of grey

seagulls cry in shades colored blue

how mad the ocean’s raving tune

it sweeps away the end of day, a hopeful sun

to paint the sky of blackness

paleness of moon

rises, fades

beyond the sway

of silvery shades

night shimmers its way

into red and blue

where fiery clouds ignite

the day once more anew.

Beyond the deep end

I tried water

wading, floating, drowning

the pooling and spilling of years

immersed myself holy,

deeply to find the fear

dark in the deep end

the coming home to soul

the pain of it all

unknowingly I’d slept

heart wrecked

frozen in fear

unwilling to look

until there was

no other choice

until one day discovering

hidden truths beyond

my darkest void

Your kiss

My heart of sleeplessness

awakens me foolish

moonless from my rest

ache of cells and blood

a torrent, a flood

a rushing river

reaching for your hand

your reddened lips

soft a place to land

Troubled sky (haiku)

The moon has fallen

tonight a plum blackened sky

dark, this starless void

Summer of fire

Thirsty, a parched pale yellow

this milkweed, dandelion field

dried silky seeds blowing wild

hot cracking leaves

lightening trees afire

forests and burning meadows

with eyes that sting

I can but see, spectrally

the smokey sun

breathe a deathly air

that chokes the lungs

creatures gasp and run

in moments ever dire

they flee frightfully

amid falling trees

of fire

September

Walking the dirt path, down around

the gold brown hills that spill into the orchard

apples baked in the oven, sun of summer

and in September they are done

red, we dressed with honey cinnamon

the air was bliss, the trees, the ancient harvest

with baskets full, the way our hearts overflowed

this was a place we called heaven, but now you are in the trees

in the sweeping fields of turquoise seas, in the stars that never cease

here, where you once imagined and could only dream to remain as ever

Parched

A thirsty desert dweller

my lips parched and cracked

from lack of rain

I wait for hours

days for love

to reign

North

Oh when I was north, cold

and white as snow geese

blue on water ice, I’d fly

glide on frozen ponds

cry with snowflake eyes

sigh of winter’s long goodbye

Night lilies 2

Tonight in this garden

a million flowers loom

clouds of gypsophila bloom

at my window and beyond

with fragrant vines, they crawl

saturate, scented paper walls

these night lilies, only a dalliance

that blooms and fades

your hands soft upon my legs

we are drunk from dulcet wine

sung from the whisper of moon that dips

caress of your reddened lips

as we travel in a world

lilting softly slow

Love and death

I am in the fire, my love

I cannot tarry, cannot extinguish

nor distinguish right from wrong

sometimes places I don’t belong

I am desolate in a desert, resurrected, burned

deep in fields of sage

a breath of fiery blaze

the pull and push away

I lay in a bed of ashes

feel this rebirth

watch another death

blow away.

Into the forest

Sink deep your feet

the moss and muddy floor

grey with rain

the weeping moss

hanging in the trees

ravens cry, calling thee

into the starless void

of moonless canopy

a hidden place

wherein the soul illuminates

a cynosure of deeper truths

a dark that lights the way

In wild fields

This house, it does not speak of me

I am unknown to these adobe walls

these cool clay floors

I press my feet against

wanderlust, I dance

desert nights alone, I roam

these sands to drink of moon

thirst for stars to call me home

I travel endless nights

painted blue with black

wait for sunlight

to warm my room

once more to lay

in wild fields

with you

In the deep water

Deep, a hundred fathoms or more

beneath froth and foam

azure seas fade into

blackest indigo

Flashing flecks, of minnows

in the deep waters, a shoal

a swimming wave that sways

in fields of orange coral

In the depths of cold

a glowing, ghostly art

a million silver stars

shimmer with light

flash amid water’s black sky

If

If I could see you shining

clear in mirrored waters

if you’d come to rest

in green fields

of peace

sweetly sleep

breathe in sync

with me

I will look for you

When I wait for northern lights, the sky void of moon

and too the sun has gone, a silence of blue green light comes

like colored ghosts of whirling skies, it flies

and I no longer think of stars

I can only dream to fly, to shine

magenta in magnetic fields

But tonight it is you

that burns across, beyond the heavens

dazzling brilliantly, now beyond this earthly plane

to join a symphony of seas and stars out there, unknown

gathering in the ethers of forever

Last night I dreamed of you

smiling, as you laid

in green fields laughing

and tonight I will see you

in the northern lights

shining

How black water breathes

Nights, we take the boat out

paddle our way, green through water

swum by inlet waves, full moon apace

shadowy, ancient tribal faced

lose all trace of the shore, black

but for phosphorescence

glowing, trailing from the oars

a haunting, ghostly art

green and breathing, disappearing

back into darkness, swallowed

by black water, by night

strange this death,

the rebirth and breath

felt in each and every moment

Dragoon road

When I drive that road

past sun bleached stones

of minerals and bones

take the turn off at Dragoon

fly past cattle guards and farms

the road that leads

to your house

my view askew

a parallax

I rue

desolate

the cold

moon-blue

of you

Desert cemetery

It was desolate, with a winter cold

we drove the cemetery road

miles past sage brush and cactus

Saw signs pointing toward a ghost town

we turned onto a gravel road

leading to the desert cemetery

an abandoned place, mostly unknown

Many headstones old and eerie

cowboys and ranchers plenty

hazards of the pioneer west

babies, children of homesteaders

laid too young to rest

Hand fashioned crosses

still stood, marking graves

without a word

I thought how

each of us one day

will be forever unknown

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