Thursday, December 31, 2015

i have a silly song
humming it to myself
or to those who listen

kind to be good
and good to be kind
right now never ever better

no to no
yes to today
the day before and next do not exist

i planned
hundreds of things
a thousand stories or more

just me
\getting drunk

Poem - ordered minds / bearing down / or bowing

you go
i read about
st joseph of cupertino
flying and floating
in holy view

rigorously punished
by his superiors

then i read
basil of moscow
naked in
all seasons
shaming ivan
the terrible

brutality of
by idiocy
through madness

ordered minds
bearing down

or bowing


New Years Eve

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Poem - there isn't enough at all / if i make it so

there isn't enough at all
if i make it so
i can believe it is impossible
and make it true
chase it right out of the room
or out of my life

what is the best advice
i'd give another -- even
to a fond friend?

it will all be alright
if you step back and let it be

be ready to catch
if your turn comes

then pass it on
any joy you feel

without delay
or a second thought


Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Poem - under the branches of a secret oak tree / on the top of a mountain

under the branches of a secret oak tree
on the top of a mountain

you watch as a storm develops
your hands scratched a bit

from climbing up the rocks
with your bottle and book of poems

the poem book fell
but you kept the bottle tight in hand

a warm consolation
you button up your coat

the wind increases
you hear the book feathering pages

until the rain spatters
matting the paper down

you drink from the bottle
wonder what it is like

to be stuck by a lightening bolt
under a tree in a storm

or what it is like to be hung
like judas betrayer of christ

the climb down is dark
wet cold and muddy

when you sit in the truck
see your face in the mirror

you look like you don't know
anything at all


Monday, December 14, 2015

Poem - i have seen two people see the same moon / rise through the night sky

i have seen two people see the same moon
rise through the night sky

they were together but in separate places
in inches years from each other

or possibly closer and closer
my car continue i see the moon too

in seconds two strangers lead
full lives in my mind and heart

how can the mind move so fast
i wonder in reality if they are closer now
or farther


PCH / Main Beach
Laguna Beach
December 2015

Friday, December 11, 2015

Poem - Charles Vance Millar

irresistibly i see him
balancing one or ten dollar bills

on the ledges of his windows
during a crisp fall day

so the wind would blow any bills
randomly into the street

stories below and
he's notice when it happened

take out a pair of binoculars
and observe who got random cash

laughing dryly
wishing he had a string

to jerk the money
out of the hands of the greediest


for Charles Vance Millar

Poem - memory fails when there is too much / memory

memory fails when there is too much

one thing coming after the other recollections

like tracers or explosions so frequent to

outwardly all appearances become like

shaped like people and things but none

thinking goes higher until it

into a blinding scalding


Poem - The Picture of a Chair

A chair that has had too much sitting
the paint flaking off

in a police station
at the end of the world

one winter day
when the light fell to the floor

cement and tile
co-mingling as they fall apart

two choices
boot in the mouth

manacles on floor
of cold dark room 3 days

or sign statement
in language you can't read

you are not
a tourist or photographer

they say you are a spy
or a saboteur

who gives a shit here

a small man
with manicured nails

and a very
shiny suit strong cologne

is high
as God here

you refuse
they laugh

all in good fun

they bundle you
into a van take you

on a mountain pass

near the border
in your socks

a sim card
is still in your mouth

a bit

you recall later

the last picture
you had taken

of a chair that has had too much sitting
the paint flaking off


Monday, December 07, 2015

Poem - but you are a saint

unwashed scoundrel

you the most unliked person
in all the world and
everyone loves you

how is that so
how many rivers did you cross
or prayers did you say

did you cross alps
on your knees with only
pants and a switchblade like i would

i am a ruffian

oh world
you hated by most
are wept over holy bones myrrh

you owed me money

but you are a saint
debts out of circulation
i bow to your shrine and steal

your toe bone


Poem - sea money in my palm

"Am I walking into eternity along Sandymount strand? Crush, crack, crick, crick. Wild sea money. Dominie Deasy kens them a'."

James Joyce

sea money in my palm
a prayer
to god who i don’t understand
here i am
with sand in my pockets

my day
may it be rescued from me
let it be
saved from all my ideas
then i know
things will turn out well

then i admire
blue sky
with the ships pointed this way
or that
sea money in my palm


Sunset Beach

Friday, December 04, 2015

Poem - there is a line / of ships on the horizon

there is a line
of ships on the horizon

i do not know
where they are bound

nor do i know
what cargo they carry

they could be
empty or full under sail

when i see them
i feel full of hope of life

they symbolize you
me and everyone else

all have something
undertaking a voyage

like the boats i see
destination unknown

i believe when we arrive
we'll know harbor

and be grateful
for such a journey


for Emily

Poem - freighters / bound


for where
i do not know

they leave
on a cloudy day

ahead of
a storm

while i
find sea money

cap tops
and wood

some from
a tsunami

half a
world away

laid out

the horizon
1 2 3

to run


then go

as the sky

and waves


Sunset Beach

Thursday, December 03, 2015

Poem - your own voice

the highest mountain
is in the mind
there is no peak taller
no finer edge to traverse
to a summit that readily
will raise itself
as you attain it

like looking for the devil
as you go you will find
the devil looks like you
because he is the one
you want

they tell tales of phantom ships
seen on the horizon or
bearing down out of night

peak devil or transport
all fade if you discard them
or any idea of their virtues

nightmares robbed of sympathy
become murmurs

murmuring turns
to a soft hum

your own voice


2015 December

Wednesday, December 02, 2015

Poem - then all other things will follow

your phone is like a wall
i will never get over it
a device not for communion
but for denial and self reflection

i accept this and i hate my own phone
supposedly designed to connect me
it has separated and alienated
i must be the bad one

i remind myself to be the superior man
then all other things will follow
weak men of character encourage themselves
saying terse things quietly



Tuesday, December 01, 2015

Poem - a moon rises and we both admire it

time robs me of all my illusions
there is no happy ending

but then i disagree with myself
there is always a happy way

i set up automatic alerts to protect
from fraud and theft
my card is safe

the suitcase is light as a feather
for the homeless teen who
lifts it from my car

i am the broken window in the back
the glass on the seat and regret
there wasn't more

the robber and i are connected
by the promise of a sweet evening

a moon rises and we both admire it
he is happy in his way and i mine

inside we both have possibilities
beyond all conceptions


San Francisco
Diamond Heights

Poem - hemingway said take as much

hemingway said take as much
away as you can and what is left
you may have written something
that is true but try as i might
there is a field at dawn and
i am not your type but who is