This Friend's Retort

again and again
she is never satisfied-
her mother's lament

merde, she's an artist
exploring, inquisitive-
this friend's retort

Black Night

eerily silent
black night looming before me
a coyote howl

Dry

the chatter of birds
a cigarette, strong coffee
no amusing words

Embrace for Yvonne Lucero-John

dear Guadalupe
let your roses guide our hearts
and embrace our thoughts

Lamb and Lion

quiet enemy
fall into these arms of joy
lamb and lion singing

Some Here for Tom 'n Therese

fanciful visions
grace your house in the desert
some here, some out there

Missing You

grey clouds descending
this chill my sweet companion
as I think of you

Some Other Springtime

you, dying flower
shall we speak of destiny
some other springtime?

For Peter and Tom

I have a real man
that makes me laugh in his arms
and cry on his chest

I have a real man
that engulfs me in his smell
and makes my world safe

I have a real man
that makes my aches go away
and ends the long search

I have a real man
that gives me what my father
choose not to give

I have a real man
that makes a little boy swoon
at sight, at first sight

I have a real man
that lays in my bed at night
and waits for my touch

I have a real man
that shares his perfect dreams
across my small brow

I have a real man
sent by a stream of angels
persuading me on

I have a real man
who carefully holds this soul
my hidden jewel

I have a real man
who shows me what love does
when I don't know how

I have a real man
given to me secretly
a gift for some time

Another Moment

another moment
to be exactly myself -
watching the world spin

Angelus Novus by Paul Klee

Homage to Klee

dare us to look back
to the full music of your
intersecting lines

rare colors of orbs
and squares and music and hearts
abstracting your life

haunting melodies
enchanting the eye, the eyes
killing eyes, your eyes

watching the horror
grow, a rare cancerous plant
invading your spheres

stamping your nature
with hate and persecution-
illumination

angels descending
through an ancient black doorway
mark territory

in your universe
as you watch your big brushwork
return a new song

somewhat unearthly
limbs disconnected and far-
where your spirit reigns

Poised

who broke the tight seal
to this odyssey of words-
my black ink poised

Old Grief

nearing the far end
of this chapter on old grief
is it spring I smell?

Brotherly Love

witnessing your plunge
such painful reminders of
ghosts and locked closets

For Ričardas

tiny white snowdrops
dusting the greening hillside-
one more snow to come

For Charlie

what if you could give
yourself a new beginning
hand in hand with God

For David

new information
rewriting our histories
mapping some new land?

did we learn to love
at the mercy of the womb
what did you expect?

what did I expect
with the world consuming them?
did we expect time?

time in the speed age?
time, for more meaningful stuff?
time for praise, glory?

damaged by greed
getting ahead, moving on, go-
were we left behind?

left with broken dreams
left, mending ourselves slowly
outside history

or are we flowers
of some new garden to come-
rare exotic breeds

stronger in the storms
surviving an arid land
without a compass

what can we leave to
our children, our families
with this wealth of time

survival for some?
the fittest gets the big prize?
losers weep alone?

so, what about our time?
the road keeps moving
even if we stop

no one really cares-
so what do we make of life
trying to reach in

without much regret-
trying just to understand
our stop, this detour

are we going back
to find something we have missed
something that was lost?

back to the floating
immeasurable waters
back to the real gift

For Free

listen to the rain
echo our earths nourishment
for free, all for free

One Moment

look into my eyes
their enchantment, dread and dreams
for just one moment

Walking With Peter

no epiphanies
just the cold winter light play
and walking with you

Ascending

black vines ascending
to a pregnant winter sky
grown patient and white

Just For God

on the perfect ice
I see my mother soaring
skating just for God

Yearning

yearning for spring's blush
I remember the laughter
of the hummingbirds

Against A Cold Wind

against a cold wind
my old trees lacy black buds
shiver in the light

Journey Home

in this cave, my soul
scribbling down every thought
as if Hanshen lived

this great mad poet
reading my words eagerly
tearing and smiling

knowing this exile
takes a complete surrender
to all the known gods

emperors seeking
answers to the big questions
will not find them here

this cave is locked
full of poets and mad men
on their journey home

Words

they come from somewhere
distant, like backround music
this flutter of words

Basho's Walk

reading old haiku
I wonder about Basho's
walk through Japan's heart

Happy Valentines Day

there is this fine thing
yes, a fine thing, this love, love
that grows and knows, knows

there is this glad thing
yes, a glad thing, this love, love
that sows and shows, shows

there is this pure thing
yes, a pure thing, this love, love
that flows and grows, grows

Perfect

six perfect veneers
inside the nastiest mouth
you've ever seen

I Bow Down

I bow down once more
to the long unbroken line
pointing at the moon

To Age

wishing to be young
my breaking body undone
one, by one, by one

Great Dreamers

to you great dreamers
let me sing praise and power
in your breast I sink

Happy New Year Peter!

we are so lucky
to have loved each other
for so many moons

Waiting for 2008

ebullient master
shall we drink of the divine
and take in the moon?

this eternity
that passes as our small lives
but beams of your light

measured in days
years mounting the mounting years
the same old moon there

some clear brilliant light
shadowed by our own dreams
problems and pleasures

come take the moon back
let it play in your pocket
hiding its full force

so we can stumble
along in the blackest night
of our timely greed

no beckoning gods
myths or new superstitions
invading our souls

I have travelled far
in the halo of your heart
and I am wanting

so let me sit here
and wait for this long moment
to become a year

Hyperbole

my tarradiddle
lofted over the rainbow
with Judy Garland

Happy Holidays

plodding through the streets
shopping the American dream
he pauses to scream

Winter Approaches

leaves, tossed by the wind
do their gentle dance of death
winter approaches

Thanksgiving

I offer it all
as a prayer to the gods
flesh, bones, brains, longing

Cleansing

spring rains pelt the ground
sinking under the soft earth
cleansing, for cleansing

A Puppy For Tom

he said I was like
a puppy taken to soon
from his mother's breast

A Sure White Death

so cold in my bones
this long winter spell lasting
like a sure white death

A Japanese Prayer

evergreens shrouded white
make me long for spring's return
growth, cherry blossoms?

What Part Have I Played?

and there it is – death
what part have I played here
amongst the small gods?

Many Paths For Joshua James

there are many paths
that lead to ancient kingdoms
desire, the quickest

Frost

exquisite details
mock my saddened state
frost on a window

Persistence

quiet persistence
a fine way of attaining
something close to bliss

Too Much On Your Plate?

entitlement steals
equalities dream
too much on your plate?

Eight Buddhist Nightmares

a man confused
by a roads merciful turn
death before dying

death before dying
a rose loosing her petals
remaining a rose

stories adding up
to sums that will break your heart
death before dying

time already spent
worshipping the wrong altar
death before dying

bowls crying quickly
before she starts the slight broth
death before dying

numb insane tributes
to news of senseless slaughter
death before dying

'it’s all in our hands
and God is made up or dead’
death before dying

pain, like constant rain
filling small buckets of hope
death before dying

The Problem Is Air

the problem is air
sustaining the harmonies
of this major chord

Such An Adventure For John Geary

to be born of light
and forged by the great unknown
such an adventure

Touching A Haiku

touching a haiku
perfect moments to free up
and go somewhere fresh

First Snow For Bob And Martha

first snow of winter
blankets the harbors grey edge
a lone gull searches

Happy Fifty-Two

another year gone
inked like so many notes
on yesterday's heart

Old Age Lament

are we even now?
I am desired by no one
and I desire all

A Cry For Protection

such early crocus
their downy underbellies
cold in the hard rain

Caution

too much reflection
in the moon's dutiful eye
and our souls ignite

And What Is The Truth

and what is the truth
as I gaze into your eyes
hidden in half light

Up The Precipice

up the precipice
scaling the unknown tower
a clear light beckons