Cold clench of angst, these sorrowful days await
what of love, its lessons gold or cruel
our flower laden bed, of stone now lies dead
clouds and clouds of my blues, no winging bird
or musical tune, slow the silent hours burn
languid days creep ever nightward
into black, starless, bleak
bruised and weak, my heart to mend
my mind grapples, reaches
for an end
Moss and moon-green Spring
fully bloomed, the dogwood trees
our breath mingles ever in the ethers
a place where sweet the soul will dwell
and shall not die nor wither
Crocus flowered violet grass
scented sweet pink hyacinth
yellow primrose metamorphosis
inhale we drink and can never think
only lose ourselves
deep in fragrant amnesia
Until beyond this meadow
when day recedes into night
and the scarlet sky of purple blues
is swallowed once more by
the molten, pearl moon
When you came from mountains
came washed from seas
you gave me words
told me everything
like two birds or flowers
blooming in the Spring
the green of everything
soft and mossy dream
it spoke of love
told me everything
when you came
gentle, sweet with rain
not and ordinary day, the way
you came and told me everything
Tonight’s game
Borne of blue water, fiery blue the hours with you
swimming, we rode atop waves
we, the bright raves of sea
float and foam, glistening
the spilling ashore, as never before
seeping inland, our waters ran
filling cracks and hollows
felt like heaven, felt like an ocean swallowed
the twist of turning upside down
the gasp of breath, the holding on
the place where lovers
drown
It is nothing hard to reach, looking outward
countless distractions, how they move me about
I play a game, circling moon-blue rings of sky
see a rivulet of stars quiver by
It is nothing easy, fretful, I tremble with night
dark unnerving path, I run and hide
amble, fumble my way to reach inside
It is something worthwhile at times to swallow a river
dredge miles of soul, to crumble stony towers
reconstruct this apprenticeship
to slip once more
back into softness
In the night air, of ghostly moon
starry the darkened blues, quiver
some falling from the sky to startle
under murmuring trees, we rest
and never sleep, we seek to know
what night will conjure
strange drunken allure
of the celestial
Planetary fools
entranced by moons
magnetically pulled
ebbed and fallen
just another day, we lay
soon swallowed by
the sun
Strange path, with green overgrown
a place unknown, a wild bird haunting calls
as if to wake, coax the light of dawn
wet my steps, break with day
I wait the sun, to come
lighting slow, a lonesome home
or far off hills of grassy yellow
I hear the smaller birds too
beyond these trees, among the reeds
sing glorious amid morning’s meadow
and I, entranced deep in nature’s glow
can only hope to follow.
Sharp shard with blood, it cuts
your armored heart of crystalline
no one knows you, nor gets in
barbwire wrapped and shut
black, the deep – you’ve fallen
your desultory descent ever sullen
gasp of strife that smokes
and chokes apart your life
makes a slave of you, alone
calls for your blood
and bones
A flash of hours flew
and strayed away the moon blue
sparkle and glitter of skies
all starlit strewn, our interlude
the fire of you
the meld and melt
how it felt
to be seen in this dream
within a dream
to be found
the night we fell
unbound
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
Red the field flowers, a thousand petals – rain
oak tree meadow’s verdant sway
and too the path I travel
along the lonely hours gained
winding this sacred sojourn
how brief the days stray
light of life that wanes
too quick the verdant sun
green in hills to lay
and I a vagrant
plod such beauty
dumbly
all my
days.
He is from fields, endless prairies
runs with buffalo on the Oklahoma plains
nature runs all through him, restless
as rivers, always a river, he is winding
weaving, fording the depths of soul, masterful
days exploring countless outer lands
his hands must be worn winter leather, warm
in Spring he gathers flowers for his lady’s home
sees her essence in sky blue clouds
wanders the salt creek way, home
or sometimes lost to the wild hills
he may lay all the day, watching shadows of the sun
wane and melt their way back into moon
he seeks, watching storms in gradient greys
windy skies sway, with darkest rain
he is soaking in, all he can hold
all of nature transforms his soul
his words are woven, spun gold
ever sublime, are his poems
to behold
Our eyes met
softly, fluttered danced
and perhaps again
shall never meet
still, twas love
miraculous
beautiful
thing
Our days
like pearls come
ever from darkness, sprung
we’ve come in human form
twas always
always love
I don’t know why I wallow
curved, I meld into the hollows
sunk and swallowed
a pale yellow sun, I follow
whittled, slim cored
dark from sullen caves explored
here where I await the glowing moon
a relic jewel, to light the path
for me, a sad and silly fool
Driving east, I leave the sun,
still behind mountains, to burn
east, vastly deep, cold cool desert
early before mirages sweep in waves
oceans of stones, smoothed round
flooding, tumbling cactus down
early, under dawn’s flowing gown
billowing, red sky of fire
on back roads, Apache trails
seeking souls, lost within the Dragoons
rest, I sleep amid ancient bones
celebrate, dance with ancestral ghosts
free, our spirits roam
the Cochise stronghold
By these woods I’ve come, wildly green
mossy step of days, long the forest rain
refresh my breath, breathe deep of trees
hovering grey ghostly steam
the smoking warmth of sun that comes
to sing with birds, perched upon
soft sword and leather fern
laced with berries wild
and faeries good
sing green of home
they wildly roam, safe amid
the bracken woods
At last the end of rain, the pouring all of day
I watched desert birds, thirsty – perched, bathe
sunset, a stretched string of blue, unraveling
a flash of light fading into black
splash of gutters overflowing
water drops, the rooftop
drips upon piled rocks
just outside the door
my glad goodbye
a drenching day
sulked away
void of sun
the teary sky
cried
vast silent sky
dusk of life, stillness in the fall of night
the soul unseen, hides
at times is felt, like tremors of moon
shines much like stars, blinking us awake
startles, illuminates, if only a moment
to glow, to radiate, then swiftly fades away
back into night
Green tangle, narrow spiny fingered
your prickling sharpens, midday’s heat
bearing scarlet flowers
this bird feeder
a drink
When I can no longer dredge, move water
dragging silt through sand, disappearing
my hands tied by seaweed, clawed and crabbed
strange ocean of paraphernalia, I trudge the land
my lips, red crusts and salty bled
fingers stiff, rusty locks, rubber gloved
swallowed up, fastening round a net, a trap
to pull the ocean in
Never wait for me when far in fields, I’ve gone
mad and wild flowered, abandoned every plan
my mind ebbed and fallen, no never do call on me
if when I’m very drunk in halcyon hills of day,
or in lucid colors of a pastiche floral parade
never when lost in splendorous meadows
when a bird of peace, in hills I fly
amid some heavenly place
where I can only but
dream to die
When love goes slow or runs
clear like water, heavenly in rivers to float
or flies a dove of splendorous iridescence
in streams of dreams, imagining love
a gorgeous winged, metamorphosis
Strange glowing orb
mystical magnetic oracle
points us aimlessly
in and out of love
pushes and pulls
the tide, spellbound
sea wrecked, sandbarred
left high and dry
deep in the night
foolish we, two
fools of moon
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
Red clay of mountains, wind washed
cerise swept sands of desert, pebbles sparkling blind
scurry, we hide from afternoon suns
people scarcely found, hide inside
still some crave midday heat, sun to penetrate the bones
drip in sweat, taste of sweet salt lips, colored hot, pink, red
the melt of minds, green like candles, saguaro spired
move, they sway in waves, a vision dancing over lands
evening clouds come flowered, bloom and drench sands
come rainbow showered, and after, always with birds
so brief to drink, to bathe and splash
ever amid the vanishing puddles
How fire builds, born of warm remembrance
far or deep in heart it burns, sparks
a flash, how lightening strikes fly
achingly, beautiful pieces of sky
tiny embers burrow
swept inside the soul
a call, remembered
will burn, burn
indelible
Winter’s unsteady weather
cold, hot desert
on this walkabout, severe angles of sun
icy mornings drip into the sweat of afternoons
the impasse of giant stones the gods have laid
to stop or climb another way
egos travel irretrievable we sink into what is real
here we scale thorny towers of denial
revealed in layers – to cry, to smile
meanwhile awakened, shaken
from the sleep of our amnesia.
Eyes, lashes flash
patterned lace, snowflakes
melt soft across my lips
exquisite blooms of winter
coldest icy snow shall not freeze
nor will night ever slow or blacken
in the howling, we watch grey skies sway
laugh at wicked, whipping rains
hear only the call
of our names
When I wake in winter, to howling winds
a head of dreams still swirling, spins
my body aches forlorn, bury myself warm
sometimes half asleep, upon the pillow
fall back, softly deep
witness myself surreal
float, I walk or run through
strangest worlds, hurled through
time, I climb upside down
back out, from dreams – awake
eerily shiver, winter’s cold
to shake
Ecola park
misty rain of
late September
overlooking blue seas
a gathering of birds and flowers
wild ocean of
you and I
together
Today, far and away
beyond, we’ve gone
from one another
still there are days
listening for your name
strange how my garden blooms
lonely, bright colors of you
strange, watching petals fall
fading into winter
Under these pines, these bougainvilleas
petals blow across the wind
red sails on gravel sands
clouds blue laced black
pitch of hurried birds fly
disappear in darkest skies
a sudden storm at the window pounds
slant of raindrops crash
splash of puddles, the iridescent ground
sun bursts through a field of clouds
the desert pure redolence, calm
a silent rainbow touching down
Your eyes are polished amber stones
gold flecked, honey brown
a warm spring of waterfalls
our love, a whispering river call
we, a silhouette of wild birds
winging amid a
softened world
High in hills, drift the clouds – of sun it kills
wind barren path strung low with lichen laid
starry flowers, pale white, soft a blanket made
amidst dawn’s dewy moss, footprints pressed
leading up and outward toward the day
the sky, through all of time, only a spiral
how earth makes it’s way
Still lingering, clouds meandering
layered upon this lazy blue day
birds fly in and out of view
surrounded by mountains
as if a painting, surreal
the desert drinks us dry
leaves us far behind
there is no separate mind
we sit for days and nights amidst the sands
breathe in sync with this sacred land
chasing butterflies from our heads
losing all the words ever said
day is nearly done, the time has come
soon to sleep and dream
never of this place
again
I will see you in the field of days
in the blue or grey of thundering storms
though wild rivers change course
and I lose ground, you steadfast remain
you are the rousing dawn of birdsong
the silver sun of white light flashing
you are the wind, a whisper, a kiss
upon my face, that lifts my sullen eyes
all the tears, your infinite ocean washes away
and I am left upon the shore, where only love remains
It was Spring, late May
and I so late, for class
poetry lessons of Mr. Davis
the hours, soon and fast
how warmth would come
a fleeting sort of sun
language poured rain
cried words
never again
the same
Stillness bathes my room, the stars have gone
slow sweeps the light of dawn
watery windows breathe of cold
spider mandala art has gone
now sleeps the garden green
of gorgeous lily bowers
silence has come
the quiet of flowers
falling down
How when days were like rivers, unending
the slow flow of beginnings, the fearless floating
of dreams, until the startle, the rift and ripple
of awakening
How when days were like friends, warm comforts
mornings came right in, igniting the heart
of polished stone, soft and smooth
to hone the soul
How when nights were long, of stars
moons lighting all the world, the trees
bright how branches shadowy loomed
moving like breath
made a billows of
my room
How when visions came, sleep was late
roaming deserts in the dark
listening, kneeling at nature’s altar
no language of words, no ego
nothing to falter
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
Old books, older still the dust
lost library, forgotten world of words
through vertical windows, distorted glass
of years past, watch shapes of trees
colored birds fly by
dusty poem, room of
melancholy
rhyme
Black and white photos
framed upon the mantle
how long our memories
shining wild, to light a room
how long do we think them
ever full bloom
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 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
You lingered far too long
with rain clouds, your morning fog
I waited in mists of rain, the days
for sun to warm, to wrap it’s arms once more
to watch the steam of scented cedars
I sat silent under great trees
of a rhododendron forest
kept looking for buds
a hint of flowers
to come
Nights, when I don’t see you
trailing in stars
or by the light of moon
however bright
blackness takes my sight
a shooting star – I fall
back to everything
and nothing
at all
Gathering chaparral, just after rain
sticky leaved, miniscule, green
tiny bundles, scented woody
now one, with earthen hands
under a winter moon, garland star stitched
pitch of juniper, pinion fire
only a dalliance this
fragrant desert
pyre
Of trees, the whirling of leaves
how soon the days, changing
streets of rain, storms of grey
winter winds, chilling
sleep, I dream of love and lilies green
imagine how words softly fall
disappearing, now swift I go
beyond, lose my mind
to all
If we could go shining
glints of silver water
far and flying doves
words would never falter
sweet we’d sing of home
falling soft from reddened lips
then we would ever bloom in song.
Green the day, that moves in waves
of gentle blowing winds your way
sweet you slept, caressed
on mossy laden ground
silent ripples on blue lily pond
I, a singing bird of sun
that calls to you in the middle of a dream
hearts, water lilies – opening
adrift in the middle of a song
we, two singing birds
of only love
Looking at apples, my mouth of juice
longing to taste one delicious bite
I stand under this tree
for days
I climbed many a splintered fence
saw you from a great distance
sturdy branches, your arms
leafy crown of thorns
and charms
In trees where ravens fly
from blackest skies
to shelter storms
days of clouds
and cruel raining winds
where even strongest branches falter
To the trees, to sun
to birds and the ways of love
to breath – I thank you
If you could look my way
maybe you would
stay?
In the stillness I found myself bound by
ten thousand days and nights
in a fire red desert
you were dancing, chanting
praying for rain, for tears
to drown, wash my soul down
to the earth, bear my rebirth
your hands red clay, shaped
burnt offerings, smudge grey sage
snake whispers cloaked in skies of smoke
hum of drums
leather bound polished stones
with peyote, I have gone
home where the
earth and sky
become one
Shapeshifter
I laugh
no future
no past
Of you,
I speak of
softest petals, always kissing
flowers, full bloom
wet drops, your reddened lips
pour darkest cherry wine
all the day, watercoloring
my skies
Black charcoal, thunder clouds reign
a torrid storm of heartbeats pound
your strangling hands, choking land
muddied, we breathe through
gasp of living much too fast
we come seeking love, drown in fear’s
torrential flood, in a world run
by men with hearts of
black obsidian
Tonight in this garden
a million flowers boom
clouds of gypsophila loom
at my window and beyond
with fragrant vines, that 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
all other time is now lost
as we travel this world
lilting softly slow
Walking this trail, all is strange
I am still round, attempting square pegs
the evening desert with its saguaro looking people, my friends
snakes, and the hissing heat of day they now crawl away
into the melting sea sky of orange, red
into the indigo rising, turning black
no sound of cities, no world out there to cry
only the calling of stars, like musical notes
songs twinkling in time with
the hot honey yellow moon.
two birds
a sky disappearing
lost in clouds with you
soft cotton, downy feathers blue
now soon the end of day
gives way, dark as indigo
black, as light strays away
we bathe with blinking stars
through windows sparkling blue
candles of the moon, our room
of fruits and wildflowers strewn
here we lay, only to die
only to bloom
Black geese on the waves today
crashed, then flew away
blackness was the water
that called my name, late
and never again the same
deep dark well, a cave
I went looking in, the deeper
I go, ever an echo
that calls my name
naked, stripped of shame
my heart revealed
never again
the same
Pretty they said, oh but it was summer
when she bloomed, and wildfires came along
dancing across fields – wind songs
blowing through her mind
and there she stayed
sleeping much too late
to flee the lake of fire
Sometimes half asleep, scribbling words
or waiting for the morning sky to deliver birds
I fall off the edge, leave this tiny bed
float on rainy streets, there is no one that I meet
only a corner vacant house, where precious paintings hang
I am staring in the window, at flowers yellow, blue
this must be the room of Vincent Van Gogh, this starry night
with lily ponds so beautiful, fields of flowers
purple iris, Monet meadows
brown skin woman, hibiscus flowered
island scenes of Paul Gauguin, so brightly colored
there are pastel Degas dancing ballerinas
Marc Chagall, blue indigo people
without legs, they smile surreal
this museum of the mind
minutes like hours
turned sublime
It felt at first – tangled, then more of an unraveling
hair in hands vanished, how softness fell
swept across the room, and soon
shadows in the sky
lost in moon fog’s tide
glowing, the shining of two souls
the seek and hide
the reappearing of
you and I