Poet under Construction
In a corner at the party
Roots a wallflower
Observes Black-Eyed Susans
Bachelor’s Buttons go to seed
The last sprout to get laid
Will feel too much
Absorb every drop of water
In future desert climates
Always thirsting
Fallow fields crave
The rich soil of touch
The neglected bloom of being
Learns the value of rain
Doubts a cloudless week
Sips sundown cocktails
Balances slim stemmed glass
Like carefully chosen words
To drain and rinse
On pen and paper
In the still of morning
Out there…
One sings a lullaby
One spits blood in an alley
One restrings a bow
One wakes from a dream
One goes back to sleep
Another slides fingers across a pelvis
Another tightropes a railroad trestle
Another kayaks to a moonlit abyss
Another steals an egg from a nest
Some will sing in harmony
Some will shout in discord
Some will read scripture
Some will build a gallows
More will march in place
More will stand in silence
More will light a candle
More will stoke a pyre
One will live alone
One will choose a mate
One will choose a cause
One will walk a path
A path that chose the one
Baraka
(flame and rose folded together)
beacon flow
living, dead streams
animal, stone, vine
slip through blood vessels
holy golden honey
unification of tree, spider, exit sign
endless undying connection
like molecules in oceans
swaying unison
within the deep space groan
cumulative one note
from every sound ever made
one symphony of All that was
All that is
All that ever will be
To be clear…
You will not be my monolith
A tower of truth and piety
Without foot holds to climb,
Not so tall that I need distance
To see all of you
Not one to cower
In the shadows of your tower
Maybe a mirror,
Sleek and clear
To reflect myself
In the rest of the world
But to reach your core
The flame inside the rosebud
A harbor of light and warmth
Like the scent you left in my bed
Gentle not to shatter my glass skin
Resilient to withstand my iceberg feet
To navigate wreckage of voyages past
Where my spirit life raft bobs
In your waves of renewal
Space Putter
Draw the curtains
The dog and pony show is over
Gold filigree of youth sold
Copper plumbing of health stolen
Lighten the load
Ready for casita blast off
Wall clock ticking countdown
A consolidation consolation
To timeless constellations
The yawning maw of forever
A desultory dance among stars
Blown like leaves across pavement
Like vehicles flooding highways
To endless horizons
No punch in, punch out
No calendar bondage
Of birthdays and appointments
The new amorphous voyage
Ties to nothing
Live the mantra
Hasta manana
Mucho de nada
No hay problema
Man, oh mana
Where have you gone?
Sleep like peanut shells and popcorn
Swept under the stands
When the tent comes down
Death Witch
She blew in like a dust devil
Tumult of emotion, tears lashing out
Lightning bolt youth
Short raven hair, crimsoned cheeks
Tenderness not yet numbed by time
Told me her woes on the tarmac
Break ups, lies by ones she trusted
Seat belts fastened, a long flight ahead
I was her dry weatherman
No longer in the field
We spoke of endings and beginnings
Tethered to earth, flights of fancy
She confided her witchery
Near death experience, saw the light
Thereafter an ambassador to hereafter
I sprinkled wisdom
Like one who salts beef
Enhancing the flavor of loss,
Ardent entities of love and life
Feed off the carcass of what has passed
She felt better, smiled
Put on a shawl, played a game on her phone
I went back to a book I read before
The story the same
But I enjoy nonetheless