Tag Archives: poetry

No Still Life

The innocent ambiguities
that honest ignorance affords
us who will not learn love last
and ache most to grasp
the core of things.

So many lovers out
on the edge of things
who will not make you walk the plank
off your pirate ship of private plunder,
but who melt your world with a potent glance
and tumble towers with their presence.

Such gracious hidden leadership
that draws us past our boundaries,
that lifts veil after veil,
that enlarges our circle of concern,
that softens our hearts into liquid love you can navigate,
that helps us glow into the dark corners of the world.


Filed under No Still Life

Bardic Aperspective

The mouth is opened.
You can see the labor camp inside
working on the words to end all words,
at least for a while,
at least to hint an end exists,
pressing the strategic geometry of influence
to restate the circumstantial evidence
into metaphors of the ineffable,


to eclipse both the final say and sayer.

The feet that bring that good news
matched only by the
beautiful belly buttons of better bards,
the omphalos of humanity.

A cloud is rising beyond the trees.
It’s in the air, you know.
We breathe it.
The birds know this substance well.

Full of thought and being,
ghosts live there, you know.
We breathe it.
Spirits know this substance well.

Inhaling all the common memes
we hold our breath and dive in search of life.
Exhaling speaks the blue-green mantra,
Stokes the fire, affirms the strife.

Each thought we breathe informs a story:
we see now how they spin their glory.
Word-weary we wait…
we breathe.
We fan the flame and wonder.
What gods have put together
Let no one put asunder.

Vital vapors reach a verity of height and heat,
cool into words and descend.
The best neither fogs a friend
nor floods a foe,

but infuses life with life.

So many sentient poets now
afloat beyond belief
to challenge all pat answers
and ever seek relief
from arrivals on the scaffolding
still weary from their climb
who want to set up housekeeping
and corner every rhyme.

“This is not it! We are not done!”
The fervent mouths will shout,
“Rest and then arise again
and work the inward out!”

It sounds so simple when you say so.
The air sparkles with largesse
and I fly before I think to flap.

It’s the itchy dreams that form us, you know.

These dance
when, at last,
they hear the music.

But never because they
know they know
they know

the steps.

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The Verse I Like

Rushed verse makes me nervous
Like I should have stayed home.
You know, the kind of verse that
Is more labels than names.

I have a new name.
And I like verse that reveals something,
Especially ones that reveal
We have the same new name.

I like verse that turns like a good tune
Resolving issues I didn’t know I had,
and ones I did know.
I like that precious gentleness
That makes me greater than I was,
That unveils the world to be better than I thought,
That breaks a new dawn at midday or midnight,
That celebrates changes with power and delight,
That pays it forward with a faithful uncertainty,
That speaks its own listening
and lights its own path.


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We must not shut up!
Nor interrupt!
We must listen closely and speak softly.
We must yeild, “Thus and so!”
for “Why?” and “Ahhh.” and “I don’t know.”
Trade up “but” for “How about…?”
And speak with love and NEVER SHOUT.
Make sure that all’s been freely said,
and that no one’s been abused instead.
Draw out the quiet soul
and recognize the toll they pay
to risk our love, to have their say.

This way we chew together
what cannot be chewed alone.
This way we build a shelter
for the changes in our world.
This is the forward facing future of fellowship.

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Filed under Discourse