New Poem!

Mountain Way

When the mountain awoke

The rivers rushed hello

Leaping down into secret pools

When the mountain awoke

The sun tickled the rocks

Glowing with warmth

When the mountain awoke

The lizard flicked its tail

Making signs in the sand

When the mountain awoke

The hawk took flight

Reading maps in the mesas

When the mountain awoke

The buffalo raised its head

Hearing stories on the wind

When the mountain awoke

The porpoise dove

Swimming secrets in the depths

When the mountain awoke

The moon and the earth joined hands

Spinning away into the darkness

Phoenix

I have been away for a while, I know. I was so busy charging headlong towards the “goals” of School and employment that I failed to perk up my ears and hear the music of the universe, open my eyes and watch the poetry dance.

I ache

The days chaos

Waning

It’s mark left

By the tension

Between my shoulders

The times ahead

Bear no stillness

Promising similar fury

but I smile

and will always grin

When the downpour comes

I will not sink

but swim

The written form of espresso.

From now on I’m going to read a bunch of Pablo Neruda poems right before I write. Let me explain. I found this book in a thrift store for a dollar, you can’t get a coke for a dollar these days. Anyways the only thing this will rot are you preconceptions of verse. After paging through the book a was all jazzed up and ready to write. I will share that poem in a minuet. First a shout-out to my awesome friend He has given up The demon bird of twitter and the superficial and voyeuristic Facebook so i agreed to advertise for him. So… You know… Click that link…

Without further wait

It is so easy

To bemoan solitude

and cry a dirge

For a two legged bed

But in those times

When gentle breathing

Finds no copy

To sigh back

Great vaults are opened

With doorways for one

and endless paper volumes

Can find their mate in ink

A Tribute To Dan Quinn

There will be no fight

Only a gentle roll

Like a ship capsized

Finding topsy-turvy peace

Pulsing visions of color

Will consume the old

Showing black and white

For the brittle ash it is

I dont know

Who will be there

Most likely not me

Nor mine

I still can wish

Like one star against the sky

That it will be seen

Mirrored in my own eye

Haiku

I miss sounds of rain

Father sky saluting quick

To tears shed in kin

Circle

Nature once enveloped us

Now we surround our brother trees

Corporate cannons leveled

Stockpiling stupidity for the siege

But like our heart within

Beating strong and stout

The forest kin

We cannot live without

Path

When on a clear path

With animals roaring which way to go

How many deny

and choose instead, to circle slow

Soft ground meets feet

Who wander back and back again

Trembling with knowing

Deep cuts await toes where steps begin

Return

The soul is there

When the ego avalanche lets go

Furiously steaming

Burning through the snow

Most don’t dig

Nor try to reach that strange glow

Only sitting on drifts to chatter

When meaning

Lies

Far

Below

Check it out

http://m.npr.org/story/112286584

More poems soon, cant get no net here in florida.

Concert Number L.P.18

Walk at just the right pace

and give the instruments

Their tuning due

Speaker grill conductor announces

“This is Eighteenth”

and a procession of sustained notes

Begin

The rhythm section awakens

And begins its driving pulse below

Ah the gentle woodwinds

Weave the scene

Whooshing suggestions of speed

As the ensemble rattles on

A brief dramatic pause

and crowd noise settles in

but before

it can annoy

The whirlwind begins again