Tuesday, May 21, 2013

found divinity (submission-ready)


You are my goddess.
watching your form
at a far-flung clip-
eyes trace the dance of a curve
from your waist to your hip
as if they had tongues-
pausing at every inch,
hungry yet unsung
mutate my mood to robust-
inspire soliloquies
words so fervent they combust
trace the incline of your smile
teeth bared, eyes alight,
angel arranged to beguile-
You are my goddess.
have seen you in a head-trip,
a dream or meditation
now corporeal before me
my vitality near detonation-
a prayer in solidity, 
a lucid realization of hope-
assuredness transfigured turbidity
perplexity knowing no scope-
mixtures of elation and reverence,
aversion and obsession
fascination with no severance-
I'm enamored but with trepidation-
rouse me forward
and find me trekking with relish
combine dynamism and rhyme
no need to embellish 
You are my goddess.

* * *

Written while considering a rather blissful companion, back in 2002 or 3.

perpetual care 'til the end of time (submission-ready)


"Perpetual Care 'Til the End of Time,"
says the faded-out printing
on the ramshackle sign.
Tombstones guarding the
grown-over paths- names chipping
slipping silently to ground,
yielding to twin wraths
of time and circumstance.
Empty beer bottles
strewn about blazes of
stickerweed and thistle
prickly points of cacti replace
the sign's exaggerated epistle.
Water pooling stale, teeming sick 
with larvae and disease
affairs foreboding wafting despair
to the very canopy of the trees.
Intaglio of Jesus invaded
by blue-green moss-
life blooming on dead stone savior
hanging limply from crafted cross.
All anonymous residents now corpses 
and fertilizer for the forests and wilds
feeding from spent decades of
a landscape and era free of charades.
From the heavens rain down
distant recollections of a chime:
nature keeping covenant
'tween ghosts and sounds sublime,
"Perpetual Care 'Til the End of Time."

simulacrum (submission-ready)


Smelled upon breath is
sweet bottled optimism-
swallowed, pasteurized
chemically-born mask.
Translucence over eyes grants 
sight as though a veil-
a shelter velveteen-tender
demeanor muted, certitude paled-
a stimulating simulacrum
this aftertaste of life.
About my spirit a phantasm
flavored of doubt and paranoia
it cradles like a shroud of
sumptuous cashmere,
proud rococo styling like
foolish notions held dear-
ideas, ideals and influence.
Structure of soft plastic outside
but innards of limpid steel expands 
and ripens-a plenary prison keep
buttressed by cruel homilies.
Spirit inside sits petrified
waiting in vain for resolution
in this self-styled sepulcher.

Friday, March 8, 2013

element call- US Freedom Circle

The East brings the winds
that blow of freedom's promise
a nation's new beginning was birthed
with a quiet footfall
upon the rocky shores
of a fateful place
that would be known as Massachusetts
The sea air,
There giving the gift of inspiration,
that the East would lead in bright discovery,
In commerce and policy
And invite our imagination
To wander far and wide.
Powers of air,
Of inspiration
You are honored and welcomed!

The South stokes the fire
the passion of the summer's heat-
the rising up of sabers
forged of honor and tradition
defending to the last breath
individual will.
A magnolia
with the spirit
of the sacred phoenix of antiquity,
blessed with the courage
to bloom once more after having been burned
and to recast itself as a bastion of justice
churning plumes of zealous ardor
and sparking drive to succeed.
Powers of fire,
Of passion and courage
You are honored and welcomed!

The West floods with waters
Flowing with emotion
The gateway to the Pacific ocean
Pours out all intuition.
Past the sands of the desert
Where moisture is a precious gift.
A healing salve for the wounds of our journey,
and a quenching of thirst for a new frontier.
Our west is blessed with the rains of Oregon
and the wisdom of those that came this way first,
the ancient knowledge
like the foam of the sea,
tucked to and fro
along the supple shoreline
tells us of love to encompass all beings.
Powers of water
Of healing and emotion
You are honored and welcomed!

The North stands solid
upon mounds of earth
solidified and sturdy
a mountain of certainty
in an uncertain world.
Steadfast and reliable
like the wheel of the seasons,
yet ductile and malleable
Resilient through changes
As when shaped into art
In the South Dakota ranges
jutting faces of the fathers up over the expanse.
Gifts us with nourishment from her arboreal hearth.
Holds our bodies at birth
and at death returns them home,
And we merge with the soil
No longer alone.
Powers of earth
Of stability and sustenance,
We welcome you!

The Center quietly sings
though it's voice contains arias
resounding into space
and the ageless beyond.
With you we crossed the Delaware
We beat back the odds
And defended the dream of a regentless realm.
When we shredded in half, torn asunder by hatred
The liberty of your song
caused the wounds to convalesce.
We broke forth from tyranny,
Great emancipator of souls
All above and all below
Gave us strength to to strike a blow,
to loose the shackles of impiety
At Argonne, at Normandy,
At Midway and Iwo Jima
in Korea and Vietnam we learned your lessons.
Now your melody is heard
past twin scars of light
blazing in the sky in a New York night.
We sing back in harmony-
Our spirit unbroken
our voices echo strong
with the character of this land,
this ideal that will not die
this America.
Powers of spirit
of immanence and will,
We welcome you!

you were made like wildflowers

For Aunt Gaddle, aged 102, left this earth on St. Patrick's Day 2006, forever in my soul.

* * *


You were made like wildflowers, 
yours was an autumn blossom-
an essence of joy on display, 
your sustenance was
every day, life itself
scenting the world with
your simplicity of presence.
You were made like wildflowers, 
yours was a winter to endure-
a trying of the soul, so cold
stood firm in the soil
so bold, never wilting
a portrait of strength
suspending the season of growth.
You were made like wildflowers, 
yours was a summer bouquet-
sprouting up wild in wide pastures
in purple and gold
hue that secures, inspired
a sense of closeness
with the land, the one you loved.

Yours are made like wildflowers, 
You made spring eternal-
burgeoning in mind and heart
unfenced and unbound
as you depart, you lay down
a batch of seedlings, 
to replenish the garden with light.