How many will be born
The day I die
To live and love and
then burrow down
Into the warm
As turning leaves
Twist and fall
As morning fills the window
As dust motes mark the air
In bands of light
Dancing at the foot of the bed
* *
And I
Oh, I would throw the stars around
And make the nebula sing
But where would I stand?
To what could I cling?
As the moments slip by
And I, oh yes, I
would try
With you, my love,
anything
* *
Before and again****
Through dusty windows
Smoky, blushed shadows
and light, rose blue,
Stream
O’r the varnished oak floor,
newly varnished tables;
the bright barstools.
As over there
drifting through the hazy gloom
in shifting chiffon and nylons
impractical shoes
she lights the first dark red glass globe
like a flickering campfire light
awaiting the night's knowing jokes
and soft, shy whispers
An ashtray’s lazy ribbons rising,
thin, twisting gray-blue,
disappearing beneath
an old man dreams
as he leans
into the twilight
Old caloused hands caressing
a glass of warm, red wine,
and memories too dear to share.
Young people see him there
old, knotted and gray
and Alone
in the early evening
Alone as the candle is lit
Alone as it flickers out
* *
In truth
So much eternity
Awaits the living
a leaf in the wind
Spends itself, In
twirling possibilities
In the passing moment,
giving Worth to other things
That share the tumultuous air
Little in truth
May be said Of life or eternity
or need be
* *
Delusions and Monet
Eclectic: to select at will
Eccentric: to depart from the center
a damned over crowded center
And all ways are in departure
All eclectic in choice
And eccentric in manner
Knowing neither
To pick this or
let go
I’ve always seen Monet
As in a distance
A breathing still life
In soft light
That washed the room
and like the smile of a friend
to cast this gloom
in a warmer light
* *
Watery revisions
The sky was there and again
In the water below
Sharing in silent appreciation
white clouds and trees along the shore
A flat rock flung
Skipping across the sky
“A thousand skipper,” he shouts.
Soon the sky smoothes and again
white clouds and trees along the shore
* *
* *
Boat girl’s rainbows
We all said Her smile said
What she longed to be
Longed to see
Smiling in her rainbow
At how I loved the rain
She, the sun so
And smiled instead
And left unsaid
Why the rain
Why the rainbow
* *
Hero’s Stones
It was never the fear of losing
Though it felt like that.
More, I suppose of a letting down
Of all those who couldn’t be or shouldn’t be
The way the fight and die
know from the cold dread of living comes
the numb throb and pound
of all these misery’s to atone
The wounds Of this worldly time
bind and heal
And mourn the passing fray
As to the light
cowards steal the hero’s white stone crown
They came this way, then,
and passed
A witness, later said
* *
Closing time
Reasons to find
So few come to mind
Shootin’ for two And closing time
A drunk’s pretensions
These wordy dimensions
Can’t say
The little I know
Or care to show
So It is Viva Yo
Last call For angels to dance
As demons prance
In glances
And mumbled soft words
Words of love and
Thoughts of Mindless stirrings
And so little, why
Come to mind
As the night flies by
* *
So
long ago
Great marble armies
Of red and blue
Fought on my quilted fields
And by their valor
Were found worthy
Though their distinctions were few
** *
Excluding good and bad
Tell me what you are
Without comparing yourself to others
tell me who you are
* *
I was born
Inside
This skin
And from within
watched it
Slowly thin
* *
Brunch
Sometimes the night time thing
Sits down with me till noon
whispering of doom
and of things I
frankly can’t remember
images and traces
shuffling lovers faces
and names Blur,
with the promises
And shuffling,
coupling
Now together, now apart
No one gets old
the game’s not to get old
But it gets old
All the same
These Bloody Mary Rules
* *
Trinidad Sundays
To fix the night we had
Shanghi omelets, thank you Ann
As she laughs and curses her man
And cries in the home fries
Cheap champagne, not too bad
Over in the corner a cue ball clicks
Troy’s eyes glaze sighting down his stick
Greg and Donna smile
they ain’t talking
Feather, he’s out stalking
Maryann
And I
got the Sunday morning
Scratched on the eight
Hate to wait Blues
** *
Of old ruins
I can’t recall the looking out
Being different than the looking in
Though they speak of it
as of grand ruins, pillars and tombs
of what I was once
and sounding so sure
it must be
Though I don’t recall the changes
To which they refer
It feels the same
It feels the same
and just as strange
as here
this here in
what once was
the battle did occur
* *
* *
This now
this moment
as in so many moments
in a life of moments I
like this small Red rose in the rain
pushed by the wind
taps once and again
against the windowpane
this one
now
this one
now
* *
Each we are
, born of possibilities.
There is no moment,
no one moment.
This now,
this ever present now
is like a pool of water:
we are immersed.
You are here.
Here.
And each is blown
to twirl in possibilities
unknown,
unseen,
each giving worth to others
sharing the tumultuous air;
for little can be known,
and in truth less can be said
of life, or eternity
, or need be.
** *
Monsoon
The heaviness of Heaven
Touched by earth's disregard
broods an unresolved passion
that hangs in the air
and there in
the stillness
white clouds growing dark
electric sparks
the earth expectant
hesitant
as rain drops
form circles
As rain drops pound
to white froth the afternoon
* * * *
I am these things I have done
I can not leave this karmic cocoon
, I have spun myself.
Until I am,
what I have been becoming
And having become it
unwind it
* * * * Of self
Today,
the madness and confusion swirl
around me
Like water around a rock
Tomorrow, I may be a leaf in the wind.
Shaking. I have no answers, no good questions.
To things, of importance
Like gold to an idol
To give it weight and worth
As from commonTo some rarer clay
It’s not what you bring
It’s what you take away
And there was never an answer
Shared
As love creates
as it is created
a creation beyond creators
as ignorant as the moon
of the tide’s ebb and flow.
* *
Good night
To all the little known
and soon forgotten things of importance
I’ve learned,
good night
as I gently bed and rest the dreams
That wrestle and squirm
In the light
The knock goes unheard
The plea, ignored unknown,
be it blessing or curse
I’ve flown to other worlds
** *
A lull in the party
I can see the clouds
At night
The darkness of the trees
On the hill behind
Sparks of light
And the tires
On the road
Lies of light
And dark
And stars in my backyard
Over mists, clouds grown familiar
There is beauty in distance
in all this
** *
Thoughts forgotten
Where did they go?
For a moment,
the moment was
Separated by its existence
from all before
All after
A finger dipped in a pool
Cools in the sun
And the water grows still
Flat, calm, as before
* *
Time
Waiting while The leaves let go
And fall And the fall
No more’n a leaving of
Green to rustle in passing
As air from warm to cool
As wind
As the world wobbles
And turns Leaves topple
Twisting blown
From high to loam
And time
It’s an invention
An illusion
Time,
Just keeps everything
From happening at once
as once it did
* *
Trinidad
High In its darkest green
I’ve seen Whitest flowers hung
As if some
Fairy princess Had flung
There Her silvery shawl
To grace that evergreen
* *
Should the sound of my steps
catch my feet asleep
Shall I not fall?
* *
Liat
Rising as the sun
burns the mist
Drops of rain
Falling back to earth
Forms a stream
A river to the sea
Two now one
As life will be
As you are to me
Eternally
* *
Waiting for Liat
Time, don’t mean much
Time to be places
, meetings and such
Forgotten
and put away
Night things, gone with the day
What is it
, that we recall
As time, our markers call
But our friends
Their presence lends
Meaning and Words,
so little say
Of times and no where to go
Of a love that doesn’t show
Times they don’t mean much
Places, things and such
** *
Memories
As swirling mists
In golden sunlit,
Pools, persist
And thoughts delay
In other times than this
Of times that were
Silent thoughts
No words express
Or time repress
* *
A brown afternoon
Hair pulled back
Pinned back behind your ear
Eyes so calm, clear
Your smile
You know your smile
as you smile and laugh and
well, love with your eyes and
lips laughing, smiling in fun,
as fun, for now trips
your hair undone
* *
Irene
She’s a vision Of contradictions
Adrift in swirling smiles and jokes
Taking your order, changing your life
In the negotiated splendor
`twext tab and till
Of Youngberg’s Bar and Grill
* *
Why, now
And not then?
Somehow
The change has been
Slow to see
We seem to be
The same as before
Just older, more
Who we are now
and it’s silly, anyhow
for no one listens to the growing old
Of all truth I have known
All have curled to smoke and blown
As dreams, dreamed and forsaken
As if the chill of dawn has taken
And pressed their feet to the cold floor
Shrieking, laughing as they fled
to come no more
Yet In the silent patter of their passing
One dream of truth seems lasting
For in all the world there burns one thought
Burning brighter than a candle in the dark
And in the darkest that surrounds
I’ve found all that’s true is soon told
for no one listens to the growing old
* *
Chases round and round
The world shouts in my ear
This is now, more
Than that was dear
Or painfully earned
For all that I was
No truth I’ve learned
But lies, turned
Over, once again
Yet Stay your snifflin’ faces
Truth and lies but chases
round and round
and that I’ve found
Is well enough
* *
Eureka house
Soft light washes the room
Dancing in the windows
Open to the garden
As birds sing
The blue Danube
And roses
Flirt with the wind
And stirs my soul
With visions of Monet
* *
Like George Burns misses Gracie Allen
Alone
like some cold gray stone
forgotten by the sea
in the meadow
Yes, I miss you
Miss you like George Burns misses Gracie Allen
* *
Fear is
Sodden, dark, tight about
Pressing in and down the fears
As illusions wink
and die in the growing
howling dark
of the waiting interim
and the interim sears stark
the now, that lies
`tween the glimmering, flickering
and all’s out
* *
Reborn in the void of passing and becoming
we are reborn in compassion
Like a crippled bird in the stomach of a cat
happy to be of some use
* *
Maps
Is it the way?
The feet find the path
The heart has direction
Only the mind is confused
With maps
* *
There is no there to get to
No from here to
* *
If you found
what you seek
Where would you put it
How far would you carry it
Who could you leave it to
* *
These times, you know
Strip it all away
and loose the horror show.
Where vanities pretension’s play
A standup comic’s routine.
It’s who you are,
and you really are arrogant
, stupid and mean
As each forgotten memory’s scene
stands fresh cut
fresh cut.
Out, all these found
riches bound
from long shut and locked
dim niches.
There is none to share
Each their own and fair
This pain in part or whole
As a life’s examined and the truth told
flaying bare the measured soul
in times like these
* *
The giver is given
And prospers thereby
* *
How bright the day
Though cold
The birds shop
And the bees gather
As life goes on
