we trade examples of atrocities
because we don't really feel anything
arguing for some moral high ground
but actually we are as brutal

just not blamed yet nor subjugated
but in all things like depravity and cruelty
supply their own intimate sufferings
on those who have no common sense

to even do the most basic kindness
with a feeling of generosity or mercy 
part of the inferno in all of our hearts
is quelled of hell for the rest of us



****

sickness and the kind of sleep/ that defeats the mind

sickness and the kind of sleep
that defeats the mind
vanquishes ego
and in these timeless spaces
the inner eye astounded
vibrant scenes flashing
one upon the other
each one exquisite in detail
down to clockworks
and every angel
dancing on them

sickness memories like carousels
spinning building vistas grand
cannot happen to be amazed
seeing a versailles
viewing a mahal
but 1000 more
then 10,000
then turning
then banished
all fallen ways into
whatever you happen to see
has eaten this too





___

12.30.17

12.22.17

may our hearts be full
and we decide
how lucky and blessed we are
viewing a yard of snow
admiring the room we are in
with a couch a book
a pet or a friend

and going outside
the snap of cold air
seeing family and loved ones
love increases
we are part of the dance
may our hearts be full
and we decide
how lucky and blessed we are


**

Poem: in praise of this day/ and all days before you

in praise of this day
and all days before you

anything concerning
just like a temporary veil

passing before us
only for a moment

the underlying truth
with no fear no obscurity

with such a view
with simple aspirations of love

this day it represents
becomes limitless



___

meeting someone / like going to a new country

meeting someone
like going to a new country
unique customs interests and history

meeting someone
great distances inside
of past present and future

land and disposition
contained in every small thought

place and rare qualities
through every deed you do

meeting someone new



**

Poem: i am dreaming right now / and so are you

i am dreaming right now
and so are you
why not dream a good dream

last night i saw the snow
falling with no wind
each flake evenly spaced and big

it seemed the whole world
was moving up as the flakes
were absolutely still



***

Osseo

Reprise

you found
by ceasing to search

located
the endless country

and
we are all at home




***

Poem: located in the very heart of you/ the endless country

you found what is not lost
by ceasing to search

located in the very heart of you
the endless country

where everything is in place
and we are all at home



X

Poem: Everything and Every Wonder I Create

this morning
sun

it is lightly
snowing

glittering 

of eternal snowflakes

white sky

the color of peach

god saying

give me any view

or attitude

idea or thought

and i will

overwhelm it

with the

amazement

you
will feel

when you see 

everything

and

every 

wonder

i create

____

12.05.17

Poem: trying not to fall over/ or into my past

trying not to fall over
or into my past

seeing it remembered
as decorations

rather than
mistakes or has beens

let us go lightly
if we do remember

the past is helpless
cannot defend against

idle probing
examination and thinking

do i realize
past is an illusion

do i realize
no one is there

do i see
there is only now



***

Poem: Flintwood Drive

mid-morning was oddly calm
serene in the view of everything
all around you had been incinerated
chimneys chimneys chimneys
piles of tile and appliances
some larger trees might come back
over ashes of my grandparent's house



all still in place in some order
despite the firestorm
where the gutters fell and twisted
one barrier you step over
to the main beam facing the front
of the garage that falls mostly intact
but charred all over it is solid piece of wood

you find things where they fell
or where something else covered them
the white ash layer has been rained on
now the consistency of cake frosting
sticks to your boots and hands
won't let go
looks pristine where you didn't touch it

a car with plates from oregon
drives slowly by and they slow down
to take their own pictures
the neighbors house has seven bicycles
all of them burned
lined up as a ghost parade
burned and then all rusted
eventually everything left is rusted
if it can





meanwhile mind goes up to the edge of feeling
then comes back mind goes up to an edge
pulls back and so on like waves
on a shore
but this is your heart and your mind clashing
somehow attempting to come to terms
with something that will not ever
be fully understood




----

Flintwood Drive
Santa Rosa
11.22.17

Poem: house / or apples under a tree

it takes faith to lose faith
and find new faith

the kind of faith
that brings you courage

drop what you think
give up what you hold

then we see
what we really are

consciousness as
luminous and deep as
a predawn sky

like with as
a billion billion
stars at night

going beyond
here and there

beyond
last weeks news

house
or apples under a tree



**

Clement Ct.

Napa CA
11.21.17

Poem: everyone is open to wonder/ we are doomed if we deny this

everyone is open to wonder
we are doomed if we deny this

but not for long
the wonder is ceaseless



***

Poem: love is like music

love is like music
we are the discordant notes
because love is perfect

with practice
you may learn to harmonize
but you'll never control

it can come and go
as quickly as it wants
stay or be gone forever or both




***

from the Forest of Love
11.20.17

Poem: we visit the dairy/ at the crossroads/ of three ways

we visit the dairy
at the crossroads
of three ways
it has burned down

fire is violent
the buildings
blackened torn
exploded

it was on
the edge
of the great wave
of flames
that swept over
short of napa

like a knife
the size of the sky
the fire moved
down the ridge
and the
point landed
in the dairy's
front yard

we visit the dairy
at the crossroads
of three ways
it is an example

of how some are
fortunate to be alive
and others are not


----

Napa Road at Highway 121
11.19.17

Poem: only/ the continuing strain

for Alpha and Latif

walking this country road
thoughts come and go quickly
like the small birds that land
on the wire fence of the pasture
thoughts as constant as
the flock with a mini flurry
all rush
at once into the grass


**

we are always thinking
imaging to be diligent and firm
having no hypocrisy but we'd could be
as easily in the opposite direction
with no overwhelming
conviction or offence
only
the continuing strain


**


the only action thus
is to be kind to others
for the sake of kindness
for the mercy of mercy
for the desire to not scatter them
for they will go
in all directions
with one unkind word


****

Napa, CA
11.19.17

Poem: follow the lines of the trees

follow the lines of the trees
starting in the confused tangle
of all this earth below and
winter forest with bracken
the branches raising up
crossing one another and reaching
up up up they go reaching
until they seem to enter the sky
when snow is falling and you are quiet
when you sense it you may
suddenly feel a hush and pray
of all the wonderful ways
we are ushered into this endless sky



**

In the Fields of
Osseo

Poem: is there/ is here

frustrated when circumstances come to fruition
like clapping your hands and being upset
at the echoes

or

deciding to be in a mood
like choosing a hat or pants or jacket
and saying this is who i am

because

opinions are just like this
we try them on and use some of them
say it is us until they become threadbare

every idea or opinion
has worn out eventually though use
to be replaced by a new one

so

why do we need them if these are so false
why why indeed
why why indeed

is there emptiness beyond thought and mood
is there
is there



**

Poem: i am on my own/ you are too

i am on my own
you are too

facing days
with a certain ache

but some are
stronger than others

they can bear it
or even enjoy this

strangers amongst strangers
driving home

at the supermarket

at the gym

everywhere



**

The Thunderbolt

where you are
if you can see us
i'd bet you'd be amused

me writing poems
about missing you

you'd hope they'd
be good ones

but we both know
how limited this
thinking is

there's not
a lot of material

left to ponder
and wax on about

the rest of it
tends to prattle
gradually become

a thousand misremebers
flawed all saying

we are the essence the
pith of what was

representing
compelling nothing

..

but the
electric essence
of you the boom

the crash
the explosion and flash

as nature
the thunderbolt

this was you
and it is burned
into my heart


-----

for Robert Funge

Poem: regarding new fallen snow

a soft snowy night
the flakes all fallen
in a bed of white

one requires nothing
other than this snow

all thoughts gone
worry unknown

self entranced
any questions beguiled

regarding new fallen snow

---

Eagle Lake
11.10.17

Poem: i have hope/ when i look up/ at the gently snowing sky

i have hope
when i look up
at the gently snowing sky

i can imagine
stepping on the big flakes
as they gently twirl down

how high
could i climb when
the big snow gently falls

up to a place
where i could easily see
the whole town and even city

and the country
all around on both sides
with lakes and trees and fields

there i'd even
be able to see you
and you could see me

waving and
smiling in the
gently snowing sky



**

Poem: to support the assertion/ you can catch the magic snowflake

to support the assertion
you can catch the magic snowflake
on the tip of your nose
if you practice
i will try
all winter whenever it snows

and also dance with a friend if i can
in a field or on a path
or on the sidewalk

we'll laugh so much
but be up to the challenge
and that is what
the finer things in life
are about


***

Poem: go / beyond your every thought/ and every plan

do you see this striving
no i am not like you
i am not like your faults

the more i say i am not
the more i testify it is so
we are one and same

but to be human is to defer
how we are identical and afraid
praise supposed uniqueness

this becoming possibly
a terminal desease
of denial and anger

we theorize on claims
of heroism and courage
stories of where we've been

but the bucket of self
is just that a bucket
broken in the bottom

even god or death
cannot fill it


*


go beyond
your every thought
faults and every plan



**

facing an empty window
with a pristine crescent moon
no stars in view

the heart beats faster
just like it does in deepest night
you alone in a forest

fear and wonder
of the same clothes same cloth
mind saying yes or no

all of us naked
underneath all our projects
all our opinions

facing windows
forests and darkness nights
with others or alone


000

occasional snowflake
& thought of you

both appear
at the same time

and both
are wonderful




***

Poem: now you're there in the museum of thought

i thought i was getting to know you
truth is i don't really know what it was, what is thought
you'd rather find someone else

i know nothing of others
though i think at times i can guess
will i always be wrong, i don't know

i always wanted to be the one
who deals with regret swiftly and decisively, then forgets
but i'll be thinking about you from time to time

i do think about the places i've been
and the people i've met and seen
now you're there in the museum of thought

____

11.03.17

are you in
the house of
a dream

or memory of
a memory of
a memory

clap do you
hear clapping
more applause

singing
accompanied by
other singers

if so
you are as
blessed as me

the luckiest
human ever
thought



**

falling stars
cosmic blossoms
again today

joys appearing
disappearing
reappearing

never knowing
where they go
seeing more

swirls at play
in empty space
making it alive

brilliant and
fragile like us
and brilliant


***

11.01.17

sky with a snowflake
or two

falling

flakes

they remind me of
stray stars

because i can't
get used

to having a
body

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

we're all
from out there

brighter

beyond
this earth

where
stars play

form like

as many

snowflakes




***

the orbit burns
but not unpleasantly

this is how
planets feel

steady on
steady with light

never winking
always bright




**

Online Dating

waiting for someone of promise
who will never arrive

someone who does not exist
but wanted and missed

they're an illusion a dream
the scam of all scams

you've bamboozled your own self
try not to be disappointed



**



waiting for someone of promise
who will never arrive

someone who does not exist
but wanted and missed

they're an illusion a dream
the scam of all scams

you've bamboozled your own self
but also as a fool look forward

like one wedge drives out
another wedge

so the fool eventually abandons
every kind of foolery

*

ah realization
though even this thing

in the end you have journey
beyond hope and fear




**

people say no
or think no
but they smile
as if yes
act as if yes
act as so happy
so agreeable
but it is
the opposite

how boring



**

not parched
nor hungry
radiant clear

before
first thought
or last idea

natural
as the cusp
of your hand

inseparable
resplendant
here

you are so busy
you have a busy life
so much to do
you remind me
how busy your schedule is
i understand what you mean



**

i have no anger in me
only ingenious defiance
learning as a little child
the freedom of imagination
to escape the domination
of stupid mindless adults

now at this time of life
i am almost one of them
but still with some tricks
still willing to play
the defiance entrenched
inner child shocked

conserve
the precious eyes
listen selectively
move lightly
listen carefully
burn brighter

invited to be ugly
demure

getting used to horror
makes one a horror


**

a poem to all the furniture i don't have
in my heart
if you come by and stay
it looks a bit bare
i've given it all away
but there is a lot of room
in a unburdened space

tell your stories
and let the moon rise
stars too
through all thoughts


***

a poem to all the furniture i don't have
in my heart
if you come by and stay
it looks a bit bare
i've given it all away
but there is a lot of room
in a unburdened space
where words can live or stories told
of what was had and got
lost and refound

a poem to all the places in mind's mind
that we forgot
a bit for what we remember
it all is getting worn away
the more we go over
what got us here
to this clear place
where words can live or stories told
of what was had and got
lost and refound


**

the music remains
when they are gone
is that one of the points
a few old songs
the old jukebox
played again and again
sometime late at night
reminding you of a friend



*

let us talk about the sky
the moods it gives buildings
of windows when lights are lit
sky deep purple or blue

we might consider grace
or the habits of angels how
no one is alone nor forsaken
with such a perfect sky


888

let us talk about the sky
the moods it gives buildings
of windows when lights are lit
sky deep purple or blue
tell about the first stars showing
how meetings between two people
can perpetuate more meetings
before it snows on a magic night
even a sigh or two



***

in lamantia
it is all there you told me

so i read
lamantia and felt nothing

read his
poems again then looking

but when
you passed away this fall

i read
lamantia again and this time

i saw
when you're missing someone

then lamantia
is crystal clear and piercing

lamantia writing
to every broken heart ever was

lamantia writing
to every searcher who cant stop searching


**

for Latif
10.21.17

you don't wake her
she's sleeping
a sacred image

a woman can
sleep that way
every curve

every joint
how her
hair lays

to a man
remarkable
amazing
humbling




***

excitement of seeing
someone new
how would that be?

a pleasant restaurant
four thirty on a wednesday
as nice as you like

the line between
a good impression
or silly disaster

looking in a mirror
am i older and
does it matter

should one bring
a sassy rose
in the teeth

a note describing
the flights and
fancies of birds

or a suede jacket
like a hipster
fed on wisdom

no nothing
will do only
a shy face

or better
a smile
and hello!


**

my garden
the earth getting darker
with the rain and the coming
of autumn

so many trees
all explosive colors
giving up leaves
in swarms



****

in the high desert
a perfect golden morning
she sleeps perfectly
the day warm at dawn but not hot
the white sheets pushed half aside
there's a golden fuzz on her skin
you can only see it just after
the sun rises and she sleeps



**

dreams a torrent of dreams

10,000 waterfalls memorized by the subconscious

and every drop and spray of each

and every rock

*

you admire in yourself
how so many love you
making you feel secretly proud
i just one of the chorus
you let me be devoted
for you to feel exalted

given over
to this temporary power
higher than death on it
more glad than the sun or stars
brighter and more alluring
than the moon

you grew tired of me
of my hands of my words
of my face of my body
longing increased
anger and fear too
then only yourself to you

but when it is dark
i am the one you left behind
i am the one you aren't thinking of
you can go with as many lovers
i'll still be on your mind
i am the one you left behind

so speaks the withering ego
relentless like a wound mechanism
like a wounded abomination

to be free of such sentiments
freedom itself without any limits
wide as the sky without any ending

even pat-a-cake and kisses
have the essence of redemption
not even separate from other forms


**

if i could live forever/ all my friends would get old and die

if i could live forever
all my friends would get old and die
before i noticed

if i was going to live forever
i'd never love you
the way i do

i'd be unmoved by fires and floods
suffering and lonliness
night or day

but i'm getting older and i can't stop
my loved ones aging like me
hard not to see this

i'm rounding each year after year
you are somewhere else
i am here

now towns burn and cities sink
breaking hearts further because
we only have each other

the selfish face the night and curse
that dark is coming
like an unstoppable tide

the heart can make bliss out of nothing
even if we have nothing
after we wasted our gifts

it all starts with the salvation
of leaving the crushing of ego
helping those in need

reclamation of self is never too late
if one looks to be kind to others
and help any way they can

then through this you will find the self
is not what you thought it was
by letting it go


***

Poem: and there's / so much love

i let go
and its
all right
and i keep
letting go

after i
grab on
tight
i remember
i let go

because
everything
i worried
about
wasn't true
or what
i thought
it was

and there's
so much love
as much
as light
as much
as rain
in every thing
everywhere

when i stop
and surrender
time goes
away
and i'm
back in the
now loving
everyone
everything
and its OK

it doesn't
matter
what i
got or
what i think
i lost

all that
matters is
i'm here
in the now
ready to love
some more

___

for most
words become too important
if typed up

then we
punch at them
like the empty things
they are

there were
poets who wanted to live
only for writing
to be able to have
the words

and knew
poverty would
follow

oh to see the world
and live only for poetry

every writing
more precious

than amber
than pearls
or carbuncles

Recollection

i have not seen you for at least 3 years
might be more than that

today i looked at a picture i have of you
for the first time in all those years

i had deliberately not looked
at any pictures

i didn't know what would happen
would i go crazy would i be angry

i felt very little

i was surprised because i recognized you
at the same time your face was like that of a stranger

i did not see the person
i remember in the photograph

i am not the person who loved you

i have a pair of jeans that were brand new
when i met you and we were together

they are falling apart now and patched
still my favorite but all worn out


____

9.28.17

For Richard

his eyes are clear
he suffers no fools
but he is kind as well
surprise the light of
unexpected ways

sometimes
he'd do a kind thing
not to be caught
and smile to himself
joy unchained

open yet deep
at times so deep
knowable like
a quiet space
favorite place

he moves gracefully
if he is on the lake
he was the water
the sky

his eyes are blue
the feeling of lightening
just before or after
a storm

you do not see him
in one place
he is everywhere


____

For Richard

never separated

my lack of discipline
i call motivating ego

my hypocrisy i call
natural contradictions

it all breaths fear
of what will happen next

i am the cause of my own
actions and selfishness

i can stay this way
or i am free to change

i can through action
reveal a higher perception

no longer blame
you or others for failings

i can be diligent
devoted and tolerant

and even find that
i have been never separated

from my faith

45th Ave @ William Blake Road

oh if you think you're a person
then i am a glass of water
five miles tall
glowing neon at night

oh if you are a person
i am an intelligent kite
that flies within
an owl made of tractors

oh bright day
without any personality
fingers or anything
at all

____

for Jñana

i'm glad you judged me harshly
i'm glad you condemned me
i'm glad you think i'm defective

because now

i get to practice unrequested kindness
i get to love without expectations
and be compassionate when no one is

i'll never be rid of my old tired ideas
or challenge myself unless i have you

... saying you're more virtuous than me

i'll never be rid of my old tired ideas
or challenge myself unless i have you

... saying you are more trustworthy than me

i'll never be rid of my old tired ideas
or challenge myself unless i have you

... saying you are more honest than me

so thank you

world after world in dreams
each one with a history
full of people laughing and crying

part of every one
without pause
every notion of yourself





!

after you
came
and lay on the bed

warm
half
in dream content

did you
think
of staying with me

alas you
thought
of other men




***

on this day we are like spun sugar cotton candy

"Who did you decide to become this time?
  Wow! That is neat!"
               -- Samantabhadra

on this day we are like spun sugar cotton candy
in the penetrating sun all bright and light
we are like dancing kites balloons
zooming like larks zooming like the light

on this day we are all samely successful
becoming who we are and unbecoming it
just dropping it later in the end like
an old pair of pants or threadbare excuse

to drop all like a shell like a battle like
a saddle like a leaky boat like an old shoe
not needed for anything now used into
the endlessness of a view that is beyond

home again in the beginningless beginning
and to be in it like this oh heaven
you might consult and decide to come back
if you could be of some help or of some joy


___

For Latif

he's looking out the window
occasionally laughing and smiling
at the endlessness of it and the beauty
while i'd be wondering why
it had to rain today of all days

he has deathlessness in his eyes
in his smile in his hands in his face
in his walk in his clothes in his cup
in his shoes in these memories
i hear crickets tonight


-----

for Tesdrup Tharchin

i have a million stars

i have a million stars
in my mind as i walk a country road
i'm treading over fields of forever
vineyard noisemakers like cannons
boom boom boom

how can stars
and beings made from star dust
not ever think of one another
and birds flying up some
to other solar systems
if you said



**

Napa
8-18

on what might be possible / or what we feel is impossible

on what might be possible
or what we feel is impossible
what we feel is closed or open
or a relationship lost or found
we know nothing

knowing we know so little
of this be encouraged
expect good news
embrace everything
keep your heart open
and life will knock the rust
off mental hinges

and doors
will be blown open and you
can embrace a bigger heart
a wild bright love
will come your way
and you will catch your breath
and be alive and not transform
into a quiet ball of lead

there's no order
to the shakeup of an old life
staid dread certainty

old abuse falls and
because we are love
love finds us



_____

grand illusion

it rains
i play the accordion
i walk the unpaved road
people stop on their way to the lake
they roll down their windows
they smile and ask me to play happy birthday

i play
i'm playing my dreams
playing into the past into the future
i'm not here in the body or this instrument
there's no afternoon or road or gently falling rain
no happy birthday tune no people enjoying the song

we're all
discovering over
and over again a grand illusion
one that is as amazing as it is heartbreaking
loving it is like an afternoon with gently falling rain
on a road with mysterious persons meeting and parting



*

Eagle Lake
Late Summer 2017

i don't understand / but i know it is fine

                       -- August 6

i don't understand
but i know it is fine

my whole life
has been this way

when i was little
i could not make it wrong

with thinking
excusing or whatever

i have to keep
remembering how simple

how totally
wonderful everything is

because every time
you see something again

it is a new object
and you have different eyes

this means
you and i are loved

this means
you and i are free

we have
always been so always will



**

for Tesdrup Tharchin
... everything you taught me

it was the same thing
but i could not remember what it was

as unforgettable as a peacock's plumes
or the funniest joke you've ever heard

i resorted to turning into an ocean
dotted with islands

the moon rose and i closed
my dream eyes

i never knew either of you
i remember a toddler who played with ducks
now a grown teenager
a bit older than my daughter

you mug with a pipe she smiles
the kid between the two of you
and he looks happy and
both of you look happy too

judgement of others the invisible guillotine
a phantom firing squad
a cruel decider
you say you do not know

no worried mind
all things on time
keeping one's intention
sharp awake and fair

bright and light
quick is the view
opposite to dark

bright was she made / look how she goes

bright was she made
look how she goes
work to stage to life

tilt of the head
sweep of the bow
fingers fly over frets

seeing her move
in her particular way
calmly finely and unafraid



--

camptown races five miles long

no feeling ever stays
no idea persists for all time
no street home or yard

triumphant jobs
awards and trophies
symbols of superiority

bright here and gone
like the sweep of a searchlight
lit shapes come and go

all spurred on with a
magnificent urgency

one like a thunderclap
a glittering fountain

attention shifts
the beam is elsewhere

all merging back into one
one is empty like the sun
unbearably bright with no ego




88

45th avenue and park st.

with some kind of longing
i watched the fingernail
of a moon

what the yearning
measured or means
i do not know

my mind
revealed the feeling
then closed a door

this happens
to all of us
more than you can count

i overwhelmed
this random melancholy
with a thought of you

sharing the same dusk
seeing this thin moon
rising up

beguiled now by
the silhouette of trees
and eves

the random flight
of birds going home
for the night

a simple happiness
beguiled now
with a thought of you


**

A

After living in Minnesota for a full year, this is what I know:

Weather forecasters don't have the any idea what the weather will be like in 24 hours. They can't reliably forecast what the weather will be like 12 hours from now. Seldom does the weather forecast match what is happening at any given moment. I think the only reason why Minnesota has weather forecasters because the rest of the country has them.

It is like that with vegetarians and vegans. There's some in Minnesota because they've heard of the concept of eating no meat, or they moved here from Oregon or California and they're holding on by a thread. Meat to a Minnesotan is a logical as a nice ice house.

Surfing? Never heard of it, but people like fishing here so much, they fish every day. When they catch a big fish, they measure it, take a selfie with the fish, and then let it go so they can catch it again.


---

35th avenue southwest

sound but
no measurement

no contrasting
pure feeling

from like
being in the womb

before you were born

when there
were no concepts

and there was
no separation from love

your can't remember
but occasionally

you'll feel
that feeling



*

16th and columbo st.

poem in living
because of poems
lines of remembering

how the wind sighed
and fluttered roses
the night perfect
a moon bright

memory verses
every detail exquisite
heightened by another
who lingered that night
as happily as you did

history was stopped
clock hands unmoored
only the breath

measured rapture
one breath for one letter
one sign

fam sanders

dali
tomb
a one
ton slab
underneath
his mustache
like a crescent
moon on a body
petrified like wood

petrified like wood
moon on a body
like a crescent
his mustache
underneath
ton slab
a one
tomb
dali



88

parm jolo

god save me from my self
i should gaze
on a pleasant inviting thing
as often as daily yet never go and see

say a pink church
far off in fields
that glows so pleasingly at dawn or sunset
yet never did i go to be a part of

to walk in the gardens
or kneel at a service
rather stayed aloof observing like a camera
or a mind unmoved by beauty



**

kilke martin

in your willful ignorance who knows
what angels you are troubling

oh help them

tread light in the morning
tread light at night


33333

john crumbles

it started to rain
i was not aware
i was waiting
for the rain to begin

now that it continues
the rain is amazing
millions of drops
falling and breaking

a trillion atoms
swimming teeming
shining moving

creation
coming together
falling apart

no barring it

nothing unknown
to anything else

***

a simmering anger / where i come from

a simmering anger
where i come from
muted rage
held for generations
forged into some
flawed totem of
stoic resolve

rancor i was
born into offers
none of the thought
or reason a stoic
aspires towards
to have happiness

just a keen
mortal peevishness
hidden under
the rituals
of getting by

unquenchable rage
at getting old
and knowing nothing
of real comfort

i have escaped this
generational hell
i look back at it
after the fact
not in anger but
amazement


wwwww

it started to rain / i was not aware

it started to rain
i was not aware
i was waiting
for the rain to begin

now that it has
my mind relaxes
and many poems
are in progress

words always moving
ideas light footed muted
behind the curtains
of the subconcious
waiting for their time



88

how about something hopeful / whatever goes away

how about something hopeful
whatever goes away
was

whatever comes
at any time the least you know
is

this day
i am sleep thinking
i am clear and awake

the good news is
ive set enough traps asleep
to wake me even more awake




**

50 on this day
all my dreams
are here right now

i keep embracing
everything that happens
as soon as it comes

i keep letting go
of anything that goes
if it is going

one never knows
of the going and the leaving

one never knows the arrivals
until boom! arrived

it all is interesting

laugh or cry or laugh
even let that go

so thanks

-----

July 11 2017

i watch shooting stars
and fantastic comets from a garden
deep in the night of the self

i am in the sky and so are you
deliriously circling an immaculate
ever expressing radiance

in these forms knowing nothing
of any earthbound darkness

yet a heart in this form beats

quenchless spirits
quick like sparks

simultaneity displayed
paradoxical play
joy


8

how about something hopeful then / i don't know what will happen today

how about something hopeful then
i don't know what will happen today
anything could be if i decide

from here i can imagine
infinite outcomes of different shades
each one possible with some faith

no tools are lacking
material all within easy reach
listen to what the world will tell me

i hear a bird singing happily
in the rain




*

how about something hopeful then / i don't know what is going on

how about something hopeful then
i don't know what is going on
i never have

i've always been wrong
if it was up to me to tell people
what sneaky things were going on

i'm a inept liar
i have a guilty conscience if i do lie
i'm one step from being the fool

honesty and humility
are my only refuge while compassion
and tolerance is my armor and shield

i watch shooting stars
and fantastic comets from a garden
deep in the night of the self



*

thunderstorms on and off today
i tell myself nobody owes nobody nothing

shady garden




*

when i fall asleep / i've thought of you

when i fall asleep
i've thought of you

like a constellation
somewhere up there

each point in the pattern
a glimpse i had of you by chance

in the morning it is like
i voyage to a new shore

navigating dreams
to these cardinal points


**

i saw you at the airport / you crossed my field of view

i saw you at the airport
you crossed my field of view
i noticed you twice

you had a bit of a far away look
not worried but thinking
your lips were kissable

shy i looked the other way
to find a book or magazine
you linger in my mind

i know our paths have crossed
all times we've met and remet
every time it was beautiful


**

my life now

my life now
full of images

mind full of light

body in
activities

reason
and
imagination

arise
together

at times
in no

contradiction

embracing
like lovers


@

it all comes back / what my loving was

it all comes back
what my loving was

i understand when i see you
it all makes sense

i look at your face
it fits some image complete

before suspected
now bright and sharp as morning

all thoughts and hopes
scattered previously land

i remember certain ones
comprehend all of them

even those i had lost
due to sadness or grief



***

love

i fall in love with
distant mountains

i fall in love with
certain moments

i fell in love
one night
with a moon
over a white wall
and three stars
that reminded me of you

and i had not
even met you
til now



**

there are some reasons / why a woman loves a man

there are some reasons
why a woman loves a man
she will never tell him

a woman's prerogative
she loves him for things
he will never know about

though he might think
he'll never know why

he might tell her
but true love is never
fully explained



@@

feelings
are not memories

and memories
are marks

like trails on a blackboard
that all fade

formed
from ghostly dust

what i recall
is in error

the moon
was not as full

a kiss
was just a whim

motions
set into other motions

marks
from other marks

feelings are not memories / and memories are marks

feelings are not memories
and memories are marks

like trails on a blackboard
that all fade

formed
from ghostly dust

what i felt was invented
from a mind full
of desires

from a ego full of plans
tricks and traps

full of feelings



**

corcoran / a country road

corcoran
a country road
hint of rain

talking
to a friend
about bliss

eternity

all around
wind blowing
golden hue

over farms
scatter of birds
across the view

in the now

where does
this world end
and heaven start

in equanimity
in corcoran
i do not know


**

on june 16 / blooms day we met

on june 16
blooms day
we met
over lunch
and i said
you should say
things in
the mirror
to show
kindness
to your
own self
like

i love you
i love you
i love you

then it
rained
as we
walked
to the car

each one
of us
with a
styrofoam
container
dotted
with drops



*

this poem for you

a poem for you

how we might
strive all day long
in solitude
but be unaware
of any loneliness

this means we are
well involved
in the work that
can make us closer
to others

opening our heart
to motivations
beyond hope and
fear

entering
a kind of
gratitude
after much
hard effort

calm vision
of the gifts
that follow

this poem for you

You will drink me
If you keep driving too fast

तिमी मलाई पिउन गर्नेछ
यदि तपाईं धेरै छिटो ड्राइभिङ राख्न

Timī malā'ī pi'una garnēcha
yadi tapā'īṁ dhērai chiṭō ḍrā'ibhiṅa rākhna

June 2

darkness
going into darkness
after maintaining high hopes

what is done
is done to one's self
through the consolations of the self

these lapses
in the aim for temporary comfort
lead to the opposite and no reprieve

the dog returns
to his own vomit the singer to his song
the wind never stops blowing as the wind

**

June 2

the heart travels far / across the whole universe

the heart travels far
across the whole universe
and universes of universes

you can't catch them
break or take them
only admire how they are

you might shed a tear
if you do that is good
can make your heart better

you'll affectionately
see all the hearts around you
coming and going with this life


**

there's a beautiful road / on a blue sky sunny day

for Heather

there's a beautiful road
on a blue sky sunny day
wind keeps blowing
in a refreshing way

playing a symphony
of rustling trees
the curling waving
flicking sun-dappled leaves
of elms maples and pines

when i hear this song
i stop from my ride
and i wonder how such
clear loud beauty
so serene yet active
can exist

yet it does
without a single word
devoid of all thought
and having no fears
wind keeps blowing
in a refreshing way
playing a symphony

a beautiful road
on a blue sky sunny day


**

Medicine Lake

i dream i am taller / and it is just a dream

i dream i am taller
and it is just a dream
this being amusing
and also irritating

laying in bed
looking at the extra
two or three feet
extended at my shins

like in charlie and the
chocolate factory
who was the kid stretched

mike tv that's me
three in the morning
with daddy long legs


###

when you live your life/ knowing you don't

when you live your life
knowing you don't
have infinite time
to go here or there

while life is sweet
but time is turning too

appreciation of place
and setting
of sentiment
or simple gesture
becomes acute



***

insert time here

insert time here
in diminishing amounts

but each moment
as infinite as the last

as we move forward
the past takes on a red tinge

like from the taillights
of a car or speeding plane

as we move forward
the future is lit white

like from searchlights
from a battleship



**

or how / your goodness to me

my recollections
are distortions
mostly self-serving

but some
are innocent constructions

prayer
images hovering

a fondly remembered
vignette

or how
your goodness to me
will never go away


**

how could anywhere not be as nice / as the place we are now

going to a foreign country
where no one is ever unhappy
and nothing bad happens

after a few seasons
you forget what home was like
someone asks you how it was

you think it must have been nice
how could anywhere not be as nice
as the place we are now


**

dream factory of night

dream factory of night
on the assembly line
till 3 am

quota made

you can relax


***

my favorite experience / reading a poem

my favorite experience
reading a poem

the words unlocking
a door in my heart

i wasn't aware
was there




**

Poem - nothing else / matters

the trees

all the tips
every twig

and branch 

white knots 

then suddenly 

everywhere 

full of 

blossoms

the sky 

splendid

like rose
watercolor

or blue satin

i forget my 

phone 

i drive back 

to see 

white petals

shaking 

and waving

entrancing

under 

the evening

sky

nothing else

matters

****

May 3rd

Minnetonka

Poem - who could know

let things rest gently tonight
remember you don't have to do or go anywhere
you can just sit and even stretch out

read a poem or part of a book
some music in the background if you want
free of other things you rarely stop thinking

you don't even need to do most of them all the time
most of your tasks an extension of worry
besides in a day or two it might snow

day of snow in later april
who'd know that
who could know


==

Osseo

no objections because
you cannot say no to it
this fond thing river of time
sometimes cold deep or slow
oftentimes rushing sparkly fast
each of us plunked into the stream

i tell stories as if i was a captain
and i had a boat but i go recklessly
from swirl to swirl just like a leaf
no objections because this is life
made so sweet because
of such uncertainty and wonder



***

Out in Osseo
4.15.17

i look at my mind
who i reason i am is irrelevant when centered

seeking to be protection
the order of my constructed thoughts

make a prison or a fiery bed
reeking with regrets and resentments

i look at my mind
and see it is like a cloud

if i admire it as the height of highest illusions
lit by fancy and emotions

as radiantly as a cloud by the sun
and just as substantial as a mist

with no physical foundation or reality
then all is well


***

in the fields of Osseo

stamped from a similar clay
the tilt of the head
the dress
the smile

in a previous time
we parted company
you going home
to a small safe room
to a small town
to mom and dad

this time just seeing
the picture by the lake
snippets of your wishes
naive at heart

an innocent blown here
then somewhere else
blown by the world
that yearns to be deceived


---

this morning at dawn a clean slate
i can make room for whatever i want

the pond has swaying branches over it
overcast with just a hint of dusty blue

i turn within and feather my own mind
then see each bird outside looking for seeds

this morning at dawn a clean slate
i can make room for whatever i want


**

the air
distances
hushed

first
grey
then

haze
like cloudy
glass

or how
memories
form

spring
rigging
blossoms
and buds

soon to be
hatching
out

of still
brown
meadows



****

it is what you do
take a birthday

in a new year
keep taking risks

on this day
celebrate where you are

on this day
think gee-whiz

the stuff i've done
the places i've been

what is in store
the best will be

the very best

impossible to ignore
after all the rest


___

for soubia
4/1/17

how we make our loved ones suffer
for what we think or call brave & good

but really just punishment and rage
directed at ourselves acted through them

mercy turn away from any thought up necessary things
you must do towards others to discipline them

avoidance of misery is heaven on earth
if only we would stay within our own circle


*

minnesota
the second day of spring 2017

show me your horses
your motorcycles and fish
show your guns and boats

on a sunny day by aspens
on a bright day by maples
on a summer's day on the lake

sports music and laughter
going out on the town or staying in
family is central sarcasm essential



**

when i thought of you
in the next room
i heard a spoon rattle in an empty cup

there my mind stopped
and i felt such regret
and sadness



**

what could be the last snow
of the winter is here

it is gentle and falls
my new neighbor walks heavily upstairs

they stomp from room to room

i'm told that everything
is a mirror




*

they took a road
and laid it over a charming stream
on one side the water splits into two
where birch trees sway and a rabbit runs

the dream of the undisturbed stream
defying our right of way that cannot be undone
mirror like glassy and calm in response
to plans or demands

do you yearn for a stream
from childhood you knew by heart
similarly crossed by traffic or muted
by complexes of houses

do you remember how a space
was a filled

a field a farm a river a forest


^

we all know the place i write of
your hands at a table
a crumpled note or a magazine

your father home soon
a buzz just coming off
from whatever you have

rationed by you mother
who is working upstairs
your phone heavy with texts

you go through being
smugly satisfied warm with
anticipation and deep anger

i am a phantom you filled
with desire and rejection
yearning hope and mania

but you're not here you're there
more real than here in the place
i imagine and write of

noted who is narrating
the scene begins

to pale and fade
only my selfishness remains

the great engine of desire
drove us both off a cliff
then beyond and beyond this

where even my remembering
how you might be right now
is an exercise in blind vanity

no nevermind dear nevermind
we live and new lovers and loves

when the phone rings or
a bouquet of roses appear
dear nevermind

did you ever cry
because you couldn't save

what you see as
a perfect sunset

love going
is like that

there are billions of suns
and as many loves



***

i'm suffering from samsara
but i'm not broken

there is nothing to break
except my illusions

saying conserve us
we're the spice of your life



**

mother cries at the gate
she holds your hand through the bars
but she is going back

it will be a long journey then
to be here
even to these bars

these bright lights
these painfully shining linoleum floors

as two separate points
you get farther away from mother
your mother gets father away from you

who knows when a journey
might bring you to her
or her to you

you stay at the gate
after mother is taken away
dots her tears on the floor

like a path
to another locked and closed door


**

hands moving in hotel rooms
drinking wine signing stationary
wish you were here glad they are not

vista outside of a perfect white beach
wind blows through the room
everything neat and paid for

from the 40th floor you see everything
everything is possible and exciting
either considering to jump or eat dinner

balanced in hotel room you know well
that one motion starts another everything
from that first perceptible accident


**

pictures of hotel rooms
of hand signals
of outfits
of cars
of restaurants
of drinking
of beaches
it never ends

there is no narrative
only assumptions
of what is gracious
of what is stylish
of what is attractive
of what is fancy
of what is desirable

the mummery continues
wants and desires
wrapped layer on layer
until the mind is paralyzed
the true self unrecognizable

but finding true self or clarity
was never the object of this

behold my beauty
and despair




**

because i was dead
i could see everywhere
i knew everything
but i thought back

to when i was alive
when i fished at night
i seemed to be pulling
fish out of a starry sky

the boat moved
over the moon
an orb that winked

the great deep
blackness of time
i easily conquered

the only break
in this

were the fish
writhing and dying
gasping to death



#

you can find me
i am in the sky
just beyond swaying leaves
i am in the fields

if you are happy
i am here too
all kinds of happiness

i am in the sky
in the fields

by the lakes
you can find me
in noon and in dusk
golden light
apple colored light

if you are happy
i especially appear
all kinds of joy

white ice
melting
tan grasses

i am in the sky
in the fields
by the lakes


*

Osseo MN

living in an age

where poetry is just a thing

like a dirty note

gas receipt or mattress tag

*

there is a picture of you
in your car

a selfie
why in the car no reason

we drive
in our cars we sit in them

you are in
your car smiling

a selfie
why are you smiling

no reason
we smile when we take selfies

sitting in
our cars showing something



*

One day Jesus was walking with his students, and they passed by the carcass of a dog.
The students said, "How this dog stinks!"
..But Jesus said, "How white are it's teeth!"


"Revival of the Religious Sciences"
Abū Ḥāmid Muḥammad al-Ghazālī
11th Century





**





http://ghazali.org/ihya/english/ihya-vol3.htm

the devil is an innocent
marred only by a kind of pride

i am hard at work dreaming
aim to outdo even him

my fallen nature burnishes
dullness into brass

but the devil knows
all my plans will fail

and only one place
i will return to

even beyond the damned
and his plantation hell

so the devil urges me on
do your best always

doing perpetuates
more doing

the ultimate sin


*

The man in the wilderness asked of me,
How many strawberries grow in the sea?
I answered him, as I thought was good,
As many red herrings grow in a wood.

-- From an annotation in "The Whole Duty of Man" (1733)

don quixote
knight of the sorrowful face

el caballero de la triste figura

hero to those
who are out of their prime
but still dream
with a youthful heart

for true imagination
and inspiration
never age

they cannot

highest flights of fancy

these come from
some other place
beyond our own sky

a place with its own
stars and loves
compelling



*

magic for this day
you

loved

nobody like you
in the whole wide world

people smile
you make hearts go boom

where you'll go
what stories you'll tell

finding out
your life that will be neat

go and look

climb the mountains
see the views

take this love with you

nobody like you
in the whole wide world


**

For Phoebe Lee
1.16.17

Driving Home

- 8 that night
clear all the way
to the horizon

only clue to how far
was a red full moon
coming up

crisp and clear
serene beyond any
notion of news





**

(reprise)

dark night

flying geese

you could hear their
in and out takes of
breath flapping in unison

nothing more
needs to be known
or remembered




**

the view of a street
of the yellow facade
of the 2 flight-up
side-by-side row
bright brick houses

the view of a street
brave now in a
sunshine in december
light becomes stronger
gloss yellow wood
on banisters with red
corbels

the view of a street
hesitation commitment
rattle of plates
always was going on
one or two in love
or out of love

brave sun
the view of a street

---

13th ave ne
Minneapolis

is there any real
don quixote?

he was the first
gentleman to set
foot on the moon

everyone knows this
just as we all know
his famous mustache

his daring eye
his fiery glance
glare gleam like a lance

his genuine weeping

we know him
for how he was
sad and thought
chivalry was dead

reading drove him mad

as we know him
for how he saw
beautiful angels in
billboards and

heard heaven
in the whispering flight
of geese

{midnight i see
12 geese gently breathing
as they flew north
into speckles of snow

did they have
a warm place to go
passing over the
brightly lit holiday
convenience store

passing overhead
just higher than the
streetlamps

you could hear their
in and out takes of
breath flapping in unison

nothing more
needs to be known
or remembered}

morning at the park
you can hear cars
touching their brakes
just a bit as they
go down the hill
halfway, at walter

the sun is out
and it is perfect
like a spring day
december 28th
san francisco

couples in love
or not in love
walk up and down
talking or taking
selfies

young or old
to be in love
at duboce park

sunny warm
san francisco
in the morning


12 28 16

whatever i see
i am

my heart is filled
with longing and wonder

if i could be
in all places in all times

each house
or natural feature's history

i feel i have
lived in or just missed

and how wonderful
it was


12  28 16

i sleep in the forest of my mind
its a nice big forest full of things

as big as i want it to be
i've lost track of all the trees

but every one i see
i remember and i recognize

each one is a memory
a feeling as sense of something

but i started out in warm space
clear and without need of any marker

no mountain top or valley
with wilderness uncountable



**

snow ice
i drive on the way

the river
tree silhouettes

move fast
over silver backdrop

see how
curtains of steam

almost like
phantom mountains

cross the
mississippi river

from one
factory to another

the sun
shining hard on water

like dreams
unfold and bring us



**

the last time
i saw you
on your way
to dying

you were
all scheduled
as if going
on a long trip

preparing to
be totally
swept away

with some idea
how imminent
yet not knowing
exactly when

i said i'd
be back in
two days but
i left town

you gentle
a bit distracted
happy and in
constant pain

your face
nearly hairless
sharp and focused

inside with a
burning intensity
your whole body

never to see you
to not see you
after the big change

and laugh about
farts pretty girls
poetry or endings

i said i'd
be back in
two days but
i left town

your living room
the positions
of the 2 side tables

computer and books
recliner papers
fill up my imagination

just like pretty girls
fart jokes poetry and
endings

you really knowing
me just barely
comprehending
you letting go

for latif

----------

Orgyen Menla Medicine Buddha

OM AH HUM VAJRA GURU PEMA TO TRENG TSAL BHEKANZE RADZA SARWA SIDDHI PALA HUM AH 

let things
not find their
mark

through no
effort other than
not minding

neither a
denier nor a
battler

even a fool
can learn to
let go



**

i wish you well
for 2017

let it be
encouraging

happy
like a tune

like when
you are

singing

on the top
of a mountain

feeling
fine and free

seeing
everything

from high
high up