Monthly Archive: October 2016


i’ve been dreaming about reaching into
a supermarket bin the size of a swimming pool
filled with rows and rows and rows of limes
about to burst open with fresh, tangy juice

my arms and hands and fingers stretch
dreamward beyond my reach
as i feel for the softer pieces
the ones that have more give
some extra vu

next comes a patch
i don’t remember when i’m awake
that has something to do
with a thing like music
but is made primarily
of different weights and frequencies
of feelings instead of sounds

but that patch passes out of recall

and then i find myself carrying
bags and bags of limes
through cobbled streets along
purple heather and shrubs of hawthorn
while a bright moon and two stars shine up above
and the cries and shrieks and dives
of nighthawks follow me
into a field where a stone hollow awaits

this is where i woke up
my neck aching
and the stone hollow evaporating
along with the music inside-out
and the bags and the carrying
and finally all the limes in a row
as i reached out and turned off my alarm

i know what poetry is for me right now
as i try to adapt living to truth
and not the other way around

those seeming happenings in between
our birth and death and every dream
what’s tried and true is coming through
the joy of no more point of view

the last judgment

bone began to proclaim
what skin had long known
before muscle weighed in
with a push of its own

what is worthy and what’s not
cannot bodily be
yet the ability to choose
is not so difficult to see

brain on up high
was dragging the feet
and crotch wasn’t being
particularly discreet

blood kept on swooshing
and organs they played
yet adjudged creation
couldn’t never be swayed

hair stood on end
and nerves couldn’t feel
that the purpose of time
is to determine what’s real

so bodily speaking
the answer is clear
when all is last judged
there’ll be no reason for fear


trace amounts of obsession were found
in the back of the rack of fortified frowns
so we pulled that whole line and started again
we were discussing it over dinner with friends

the dogs and the cats they nipped at our heels
as we spooned up our bread and finished our meals
then one of us stood and took off her top
and the obsession exposed could no longer stop

we carried her out and got into the tub
and dunked ourselves down with barely a shrug
of frowns all around there was hardly a trace
as the guy with the brogue picked up the pace

some bellies were smooth and others were taut
and some just pooched out cause that’s all we’d got
the praises without were turning within
while faces inside were starting to grin

some part of us knew what was still only true
but these bodies just are as bodies just do
so we focused with eyes on the front of our heads
and we followed along to the end of those threads

the obsession wound down at the close of the night
when we turned on the skulls and shut off the light
but somewhere inside we’re still focused right on
the projection instead of the sine qua non


i know that my hair looks like a bowl upside down
was used to cut hastily all ways around

but if truth must be known i don’t give a crap
how this body’s adorned seems such a trap

i know it’s important to some what we do
but for me none of that has ever been true

i’m now over my quest for a beautiful wife
and the stress that released my gut from that strife

and my cares that the planet move closer to peace
have dissolved in a breath that i had to release

thoughts come and they go and then come once again
it’s like seeing a long lost wonderful friend

but my preferences all seem to be going away
while the being inside has little to say

so what do you want me to do with them now
perform like a monkey and then take a bow

i just watch and i feel and i notice what’s true
as my perch in the dream is fading from view

i know what i’m writing isn’t coming out right
but the fact of the matter is it’s been a long night

so i’ll leave you with one last truth that i’ve learned
that joy will outshine all apparent concerns

hot bath on a chill morning

you know that thing that water does
when regular, slow drops
seem to fall upwards instead of down
and your mind wanders
beyond the edges of your crown

and then your toes and fingers start to tingle
towards a distant calling
a sound your ears can only barely hear
until your belly widens
and the tone becomes extremely clear

and you fly out with the shining of the truth
to the home you have always known
before your dreaming ever began
and the bright opens wide
and spreads more truly than you ever can

so you lie back, soaking in the wet
all one with all in none
and feel the hot water soothe your woes
while unbeknownst to you
you’re blessed with all creation knows


Nebuchadnezzar never impressed her
the lady then known as Mary McPhee
she stripped down to nothing
and he started blushing
as she danced with the foam
by the edge by the sea

He slept while he could
not that it did any good
during his bouts of insanity
with his huffing and puffing
it was really quite something
she laughed while he gasped
attempting to flee

He had lied to his brood
and started a feud
while building a bridge across the Euphrates
his pushing and shoving
had brought a great flooding
that he rued now while hiding in captivity

Her gardens were hanging
but he was haranguing
while dreaming in fear about one certain tree
he was clucking and ducking
when she started touching
the light from the moon that was starting to leave

As a clinical measure, King Nebuchadnezzar
spent seven long years on that isle by the sea
but Mary was trusting
that he’d be adjusting
as she unfurled her heart for all men to see

smart miracles

the bastards got me at the check-out counter
a little old lady and her boyfriend
asked if I had any miracles to spare

I looked at them and their cart
full of pomegranates and pumpkins
and little travel bottles of deodorant

she wore some kind of purple muumuu
and he stumbled behind her all sticks and bones and rags
with a big grin and a gray old beard

they aren’t mine, I said
miracles can only be given by the one who owns them
and that hasn’t been me for a long, long time

he made a clucking sound with his toothless gums
and the old lady wagged her finger at me

now, don’t you be getting smart with me, boy
miracles are given by all to all
you should know that by now

and I really should, I thought
as I loaded my beer and cat food and cauliflower and hummus
onto the counter and stuck my card into the reader

do not remove, it said

I watched the old lady and her boyfriend
move on to the next checkout line
to ask the question again

maybe we should all give more, I thought
all to all
maybe we really should

and then something shifted inside
and I wanted dance
raise my arms
gyrate my hips
shout out in song

please remove your card

good morning, Joe

good morning, Joe
we’ve got to go
the week is starting nice and slow

we’ll take a chance and grab a cup
the world is brewing itself up

of morning, Joe
that’s bittersweet
we see what’s happening on the street

we have decisions we must make
to spend our time
for goodness sake

if news and struggle is all we’ve made
pardon, Joe
but we have strayed

since love and light
just make us sneer
then what the hell are we doing here

we’re staying, Joe
just look inside
there is no other place to hide

there’s nothing left to win or lose
each moment shows
just what we choose

and as we stride into the day
we’re hoping, Joe
for another way

let your mind

let your mind
on wander through
of time that ponders
speak to you

if you don’t listen
you won’t hear
that sense of wonder
oh so clear

results will come
at your behest
from well beyond your
blessed guest

and bliss that fills
the space between
has all but spawned your
every dream


it’s either a dream
or a distant memory

there’s an animal pawing through my brain
slowly crawling through the synapses
following the spaces dripping out
watching the play of times

townspeople stumble
across an old cave of bees
hidden in the side of a hill
catty-cornered to an overgrown, green pond

the days are finally cooling off
with a chill in the evening
that smells like hope
denied for too long

the dark birds own everything
as they cackle and grackle
in the air above the fields
dropping pecans like missiles
on the heads of squirrels

who puts the name in things
I wonder
as the cat smooths fur
on its hind side with its tongue
staying alert for trouble

if something sacred happens
and no one is there to see
did it really, actually happen?

can we possibly deny the grace
that is always here
staring us full in the face
holding us in its arms

lately I’ve been ending my poems with questions
coming back through the gaps
of my thinking and feeling

I wonder why