Sunday, September 25, 2016

It has no use.

Zen is in whatever it is.

On a voyage, it is a boat in the boat.

If you are sitting in a room, it is the room in the room.

Illusion of self, in ghost of mind.


Bass Lake
Maple Grove

Saturday, September 24, 2016

i come

from landless hope
no purchase

we sailed
landed cleared

deep woods

when any friend
shows up

there is
a celebration

Sunday, September 18, 2016

I am sleeping.

No, I am not sleeping.

I am dreaming.

No, I am not dreaming.


Sept 2016

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

nothing ends
or starts

no ending because
there was no beginning

only now hands
trees leaves eyes looking

is the wind old
or the sunshine over everything

thoughts say

but then they
start telling me

when things start
or end

i am alive
i don't know what happens next

i am free
to feel about this any way i want


Bass Lake

Sunday, September 04, 2016

the rain is coming
it will fall hard tonight
you'll keep hearing it
each time you turn over
and try not to listen

drops fall and they are orbs
they collect high up
by first freezing then falling
in near darkness
mirroring city lights below

angles are the only witness
so high up and silent and watchful

tonight they are watching
looking down seeing everything
they never sleep the whole night
when it rains and the water
falls on you


Out in the Fields

Sunday, August 28, 2016

gradually hear them having sex in the room next door
the walls are thick and only a very distant rhythmic thumping
a cycle that speeds up sounding so far away
you have to be aware of it first and then at length you realize
there is a good screw going on getting better n better
while trying to take a fucking nap

then slip away dream of oceans of tides currents
diving deep under water where the kelp sways
in columns woven with schools of fish
bubble rising bobbing swaying
waking up a silent 4 o'clock in the afternoon
next door very quiet


i read the ancient poet's writing
beyond any i hope to make

i am looking out a window
seeing the thunderstorm soon will be here
like past writers

we shared a window and a sill
specks of water
and a view

drapes rise fall
then blow into the room
as the thunder and wind arrives


Maple Grove

dream construction
sculptures of yesterday today tomorrow

workbench first cleared
then assemblage built like a mobile

thoughts and feelings
hanging from threads of recollection

every fact or facet
turning in relation to the others

4th dimensional
inside a 4th dimensional stream

when i wake up
i become aware of my own life

a model of thoughts
like the airy thing i make in dreams

i can craft the day
into any turning gliding path i want

i want to tun to jump to explain
o hateful explanations or explaining

like the woman in the church
who corrected the portrait of christ

stroke on stroke
into a monstrous joke

word by word
i turn the truth into a baboon

vanity and lack of skill

i see places i belong
like in a wood sitting on a dunghill

i could talk to any passers by
give them thoughtful useless advice

but it doesn't pay


Maple Grove

wishfully find me

in minnesota
standing by a lake
with a lutheran church
in the distance

is like saying

find me i'm by
a stoplight
on the corner of a road
in an unnamed town

but do remember me

a fall a winter
will make wonder
will mute
some other feeling

if you do recall me

i will have
thought of you too
never believing
you owed me anything

and isn't that nice

Sunday, August 21, 2016

a coursing river broad
with a piece of wood
floating to the falls
where all will keep going

the wood does not mind
nor does the river
only my eye and brain
has questions of

but the sky
such grand clouds
suppress my ability to think
i become like what i see
flowing flowing


At the First Bridge
st. anthony falls
pride of minneapolis

shown to visitors
near and far

blast of wind
off curtains of water

then above
the drop

a placid

of the first bridge

mississippi lingers
by banks of reeds

this city
tied to the river

defined by it
imagined in it

mind and fate

all in and of
the mississippi

the river
will last forever

is never the same
for one moment

from the water

st. anthony falls
pride of minneapolis