Latest Poems

On Days Like This

I don’t know what a poem’s to do
on days like this when no one cares
no breaking news
when nothing’s true
we make our ways
through thick and thin
we raise our gaze
as it begins

I don’t know who next lives out
their lives played through as if they dare
they’re safe with all the others there
they speak the truth
these rousing youth
right now they’re young
around the sun

they sing their song
they’re flung along

I don’t know why we have done
what others have so often shunned
we have some laws
with sharpened claws
yet never mind
what’s welcomed there
those clever fines
are never shared

I don’t know when it will end
seems like time to now begin
they lead with voices filled with care
woven in their curly hair
their youth betrays
the silence won
their time to speak
has just begin

I don’t know how it may hurt
we’ve left their blood upon the earth
and if there are some others there
they’ll speak their minds
for all they’re worth
their faces lined
but thoughts combined
a blessing granted
through their birth

i don’t know who’ll read this poem
i work on it while i’m alone
they take their stand
out in the world
let’s change our minds
our thoughts unfurled

Danker Weed

He traded in his pirate badge
for danker weed from Trinidad.

His hammer had him by the balls;
his love had gotten menopause.

On a bus with bitter pills,
his purpose gone, was missing still.

He saw the signs and distance fly;
he took a breath and wondered why.

Should he stop, dank choices willed,
or did he dream of bliss fulfilled?

A rose with thorns had scratched his voice,
yet it was him who made the choice.

Shitty stops in a city filled
with people lost, their passion killed.

So far down that spinning wheel,
his heart had yet to truly heal.

But then he saw with whom he rode
as they travelled down that weary road.

Brothers all and sisters too
they each resembled me and you.

He cracked a smile and wiped a tear
knowing he could make it here.

As people do, when times destroy
he’d find his way right back to joy.

we absorb them

we still travel through the light
over land and in the trees
hear the birds and the bees

as we slide behind the night
feel the curling of the leaves
choose a sex, get it right

spin up dreams with our hands
seems behavior’s got demands
we absorb and explore them

some may burn
others learn
and others may ignore them

doesn’t happen overnight
tuck the seams
heal the blight

you may never like the odds
take some time
love your gods

Kokopelli
rub your belly
turning tricks on the run

trading places
leaving faces
stay transfixed on the sun

feel the plight of our whys
you can see it
in our eyes

falling back
right on track
still forgiven as we die

in every sacred shrine
if you hold ’em
you must smoke ’em

yet as dreams
are outshined
we cry as we unyoke them

we don’t know
how it ends
seems it all begins again

buried deep
in our bones
we just want to travel home

yet we pause to observe
and take the steps
we deserve

a lot of damage in our lives

love does
a lot of soothing
there’s some oozing
as it damages our lives

hear the woodwinds
twist our souls
as we keep on
growing old

does a lotta
gotta do it
what we wouldn’t
to include it

love does
in our lives
takes the focus
as we strive

think our moment
has arrived

just avoid it
wait inside

there’s a
damage limit
damage in it

desecrate the one

beauty loved
excess shoved
got a twinkle in our eyes

wouldn’t trade it
as you lie
never meant to realize

that the love
just because

and the damage
that it does

just embrace it
as you try
don’t avoid it
to survive

a lot of
damage init
living out our lives

the last time that the foreskin ruled

mighty towers rose and fell
their wonders shone across the land

hawks dove down towards cans of ale
countries built their walls and jails

babies fought as men and died
never knew their mother’s cries

by leaps and bounds, the fighting failed
the masses griped, the bankers bailed

what earth was worth they never found
sucked oil and blood out of the ground

dredging down through sacred sites
they never stopped, by day or night

their inside-outs spread thin and pale
upon the waves by din they sailed

they clapped on through the worlds of form
bred with fear, it was the norm

they yoked their souls to tooth and nail
and slipped and slid as all hope flailed

their leaders crouched within their homes
with all their rooms, they were alone

playing shows they seldom ever watched
they left their crotches on the couch

while merry sunshine lost her way
they pumped their losses anyway

they couldn’t stop, inside the gland
it never went as they had planned

they sharpened every handy tool
the last time that the foreskin ruled


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Mind Bones

I’ve shed my former tech
like old, gnarled skin:

raw to the nerve
as I build it up again.

I lay down my hammer,
and surrender my own name.

The parts may have evolved,
but the struggle’s still the same.

You got the ‘puter bone
connected to the finger bones,

the finger bones
connected to the eye bones,

the eye bones
connected to the brain bone,

the brain bone
connected to the mind bone.

And from there on in,
it’s mind bones
all the way down.

Or all the way in,
or out,
or through,
or as.

Your choice.

What Is a Dream, for 200

hell’s burgers baby bells
fell inside a wishing well

Tutankhamun dropped the asp
fell right back upon his ass

viper spread its mouth apart
bit the queen right in the heart

king was off, fighting Celts
icebergs fry as planet melts

somewhere else upon a bed
dreamer rests his weary head

letting something other in
not made of flesh nor bathed in sin

working all those ideas through
to build the world with me and you

Like a Miracle?

I have read about ancient masters
who wandered off into the mountains,
into their caves,
into their later years,

doing mysterious practices
that brought their hair color back,
tightened their skin,
thickened their muscles,
refreshed their sex,
rejuvenated their aging bodies,
to last yet another half century or so.

One Avadhut supposedly joked with his followers
after a lengthy attempt buried in the Earth itself
—which seemed to have failed—
that they’d have to paste cotton balls
on all of his blessed pictures,

because his beard and hair
—instead of darkening
to their younger shade—
had whitened like snow,
like father Christmas.

But then, days later, the dark
deep bloomed from his scalp
and face
like a miracle.

I didn’t know if it was true
or just another
dream within the dream
for those hoping to extend
the ridiculousness
of their dreaming
even further.

Yet I do know the routine of
shaving on the weekends
before the inevitable
return to work
on Monday.

Trimming up bits of hair
that continually sprout up
all over my face and head.

Such routine events,
lodged deep within being
dissolving in the Bright.

I imagine the rituals
of the ancients,
played out in as many nows
as they can.

Incense, from what was once Tibet,
burn in a bowl full of ash
on the sink as I shave.

A razor,
a trimmer,
a full-fledged grooming kit
proffer their tangled wires
like the holy of holies.

I imagine animal skulls
and bird beaks,
ambergris and kumkum,
talons hanging from leather cords,
crystals smudged with
burning herbs.

Little bits of chaos
to focus on
as I trim and cut and snip,

while I rot and dance and slouch,
as brick-like as ever,
across the works of time.

the brain is the mind’s camouflage*

you wear it like a muddy cloak
and skulk about in its purveyance
as if you were made of matter

“the mind?” you wonder
“just white noise…”

yet your thoughts
they come
from everyone

your smiles
your laughs
your very frowns

through all the noise
combine them all
or grind them down

yet still,
can you tell?

if you just
mix the space
and time around

and say the words

rejoice your joys
with all your poise

the choice is yours


*from Seth, via Jane Roberts

State of the Union

If I had to guess what plans were laid
while holding back a busted blade

or how we’d greet the morning moon—
which took a bite that made us swoon—

I’d say our daily due was set
but hasn’t gotten settled yet,

and things will happen anyway
based on thoughts from yesterday.

Tomorrow’s crises, like the sun,
are bittersweet, though just begun.

If I had to guess what we would pay,
my mind just simply fades away.

Yet feelings spread both far and wide,
and all that’s out is still inside.