sometimes in hurt or agony
the heart rises

zooms straight through
a dawning or


you might be able to see
from a view

that has never been yet
always will be

where loss
has not been invented

where separation
is impossible

then after the apex
come back

see all the true
little things

stirring here
peeping there


creatures and hearts
you can help

oh on his
birthday
i think

all the birds
in the world
are singing

all the
planes
soaring

the wind a stirring
every orchard
blossom

every land
with green grasses
swaying'
forests breasting

all for him
for his heart
for his eyes

with such love
i do not exaggerate

and we can all be
loved this way

knowing it
can be done

then
loving


----

For David
7.27.16

i see the full moon
in the early morning sky

even before
the sun has arisen

the moon is lucid
perfect there

when i see it
i had lost track
of where it was

i thought it was
in my pocket

or i had left it
behind on a trip

i'm so glad to see
the moon is the moon

marked marred but
completely free
unbanished



*

bolsa chica 2016

i do not know where i am
each mid day is 1000 years long

this span we call a day
the start and end of it are the same darkness

each time
i begin aware of time running in

i end the day sensing time trailing out
like a tide

surrounded by people
doing the exact same thing

exactly at the same time
every single day

even the music is the same
songs play at the same time

why do they say one day
is separate from the other

how do they think they know
where they are

they place themselves some place

that place advancing somehow

i see no evidence of anything
advancing

i see the same thing each day
like echos from a hand that clapped

i do not know where i am



***

i prefer not knowing where i am in dreams
because clocks have not been invented there
nor does money have any importance or changes any outcomes
time demoted is secondary to memory and feeling
death has been banished entirely

depart to the place of dreams or stay
no one knows where they are asleep or awake
sleeping or awake
you experience an eternity each time




*
**
***
****
*****

does joy go farther
than i can think

by being exaltation
yes it does

how does joy then
reside in me

this little being
such small aims

could be grace
or a solemn deal

the order is love
for love's sake

if done
springs faith

beyond hope
and fear


--


7.16.16

when i met you last time
you said you had made peace with god and buddha

amazing things had been revealed to you
and you would be happy to tell me more later if i wanted to know

i wonder about this months later
when i think i should call you and see how you are doing

i wonder if things are still so sweaty
so bright almost unbearably clear with a certain imperative

i wonder about this months later
when i think i should call you and see how you are doing

a black sweater
in downtown napa

fifty chinese tourists
also in black sweaters

a cowboy hat
and a shot of espresso

three bridges crossed
mildwinter day

a woman comes
her dog barking

barking barking
barking barking barking

barking at tourists
barking at cowboy hat

midwinter day
dog keeps barking

even as it crosses
three bridges in napa

__

December 2015

lost some enthusiasm
when i saw how much suffering
i caused when i had enthusiasms

i imagined like being
on some rare boat down a gilded stream
adorned in bejeweled molecules

with dignity the role i could play

but after a rest and reappraisal
i saw the keenest new thing

i floored it

taking a swing at the moon
figuring to fix what breaks


**

7.14.16

i dream cats have taken over the world
with their politics

white longhairs with puffy tails
and smushed faces

i'm trying to escape them
they chase me in the dream

little bells tinkling
and no other sounds at all

when i turn to fight
i see them arranged in a stack

like a honeycomb or a grid
you park cars in

when i see this i know
who is running the show

i the dreamer
am in charge

brooding over
closed doors to rooms you hated

some so stuffed to the brim
with blame it is impossible to see in them

you sitting in the light
with a nice breeze and a checkered cloth

free as you'd care to be
in a place that can live as wherever you'd like

\___

i hear some asshole
whistling
whistling

he is talking
through whistles

then they talk
in spanish

and i write
in english

but i keep wondering
how we communicate at all

i'm using
shapes and spaces

poems are like
whistling
whistling

your life isn't like TV
so try not to watch it
like a show
or be asking yourself
how do i fit in this scene

nobody fits into anything
we aren't home or away


*


Day after my Birthday
2016

i had a great dream last night
i can't remember a single thing about it

much like a previous life
every mark feature and thought

it all gets washed away like chalk
off  the eternal sidewalk

at my own twilight i have to stop playing
and go inside for bed

then up appearing
bright and early the next dawn

just as exciting and fun and fresh
as it was with the previous me

a question
that in his death

the body dropped
away of limited sight

has he knowledge
revealed to him

does he know
the movement of fate

has he knowledge
of the future

or of other mysteries
that baffle us



or is revelation
possible irregardless

even as far as
indifferent to solid or not

as lightening
potential appears

out of empty space
yet in space

transcending
life or death

heaven
or earth


***

For Pat Payne
1928 - 2016

i had a dream
the apartment was in order

it was bright
i did not ruin the laundry

you liked the salad

it is nice to talk
as is we were friends

or a good idea

today is like an era
you read in a book

after a time
of reconstruction

surrender or war


...

i would be embarrassed
if my neighbors or co-workers could see

but here are my hand signals
my pursed lips my cocked head in askance

here is my hat
a sunny boat a glass of amrita or cream

or the hotel room
graciously i stayed at and got it on in


---

turning from the burning
pyramid of khufu

this ravaged by the avarice
of robbers ancient

mount shaped as the cosmic base
beheld by armies and tyrants

stone ruin hardly pitched at all
by love filth birth or death

cameras now turning
to a golf course

a green shadow
to remember by

it has an overwhelmingly
positive 5 star rating

but with a tough lie
on the 10th hole

then
rivers of time moving

a necropolis
will gently seed there

where you
will be buried

tourists
new cameras turning

turning from the burning
pyramid of khufu

\

right before i wake up
we argue in the dream
 as in real life

and as in waking day
the argument is silly petty
 even vindictive

but time is not tied to anything
in worlds of make-believe
 or dreams

in both experiences i see i am
like a doorway open
 or closed

seeing this now
after so many years
to blame
 what a shame

i sit and watch the waves
and think about the robots on the internet
who write me and say they are adorable

it is july 4th and the surfers
are just getting some good waves
after the ocean was so flat

an oil derrick by catalina island
salutes burning off some natural gas
on the end of a long boom

i prefer each fictitious contact
to be as unreal as it seems

another example
of a reflection wrapped in a false plea

of a reflection
wrapped in a bit of appeal if you see it

in any case how serious
can i keep my private thoughts
to my vanity inner patriot or clown


___

July 4
Sunset Beach

like you i listen to the same songs
the same song unendingly
even the same time of day

making all others listen too
it might be peggy lee
or simon & garfunkle

we're on the couch
with a horde of newspapers
it here it comes

just like remembering
the same event at the reunion
wedding or office

the dropping the same tired old pun
with the familiar worn out
windup

like you i do the same thing
but why does it have to be so
because i wouldn't ever be like you

i swore i wouldn't traveled crossed states and
took on relationships jobs cities to prove otherwise

but here i am sometimes actually looking forwards
to three pm and hey jude or the boxer
after we have read the irish sport pages

here develop the deformities
the marks of
of middle age

on my face or my neck
my eyes or hair
my torso and legs

hated by some youth or
younger set just
by being alive
scored scratched

an old cueball on
what should be a pristine
playway of style
poise clever lifestyle

it isn't sufficient to say
fuck you this way
nor should it be
grin and bear it

i see the humor in and also
some of the sadness

my turn now
yours will be later

all along i bet
my green is greener than yours
my hopes higher
my dreams dreamier


*

7.01.16
Bodega bay