if you write heartbreak stories enough

if you write heartbreak stories enough

tales of disappointment in your life

you'll see how they are all the same 

at any point you can stop 

see how they captivate you

but the trick gets old

going through gives nothing

you're the conjuror and audience

to be different and live differently 

stop narrating and start doing 

your opinions are difficult and hard

the way is endlessly open

_

they read a haunted book/ by a haunted light

they read a haunted book

by a haunted light

in the haunted room

in a haunted house

on a haunted night

which was every night

because they were dead

and ghosts in that house

but they only knew

they were ghosts 

when someone alive

tried to stay overnight

at the air b n b run

by people who lived

far away and did not

believe in ghosts 

--

was it a ghost or was it a branch tapping the shutters

was it a ghost or was it a branch tapping the shutters
on that stormy night when the power quit

in the old hotel

when i silently counted

1 ... 2 ... 3 

it tapped 

1 ... 2 ... 3

so when i counted 

1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4

it tapped

1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4

i counted to ten and it tapped ten times

so i closed my eyes tight and hid under two comforters 

and if i heard any skeletal steps

i was fast asleep

if you listen to the words/ in poems you can sense things

if you listen to the words

in poems you can sense things

just partly visible in the background

craving attention yet still shy

like a boat over varied waters

some depths are reluctant

to be crossed and writhe below

wanting to grab and pull down

ever watchful things verse or prose

caged and these thing pace back n forth

occasionally making it through the barriers

and into the reader's imagination 

----

i'm a little unfamiliar with this spreadsheet

i'm a little unfamiliar with this spreadsheet

and not sure of the process

but the way is informal

we play the game 'is business still a thing'

ha ha ha ha

---

i fixed the broken table

i fixed the broken table

it had been flawed for so long

a daily reproach 

part of the top punched through

the slats piled on it crossways

glued in place and reinforced

now shabby chic though disturbing 

__

i rake pine needles

i rake pine needles
as the wind blows

there's so many of them

where do the come from

oh yes 

the tree

---

it is fall and the weather is changing

it is fall and the weather is changing

when i walk to the mailbox to send two letters

the sun is bright but my ears and cheeks get cold

winter starts quickly when you aren't waiting for it  

last night at the restaurant for dessert 

we had coconut ice cream and bananas with chocolate sauce

the bananas were golden in puff pastry that had been fried

we didn't fight over it

but we ate it quickly 

laughing 

i looked out over the tables into the dusk's high dark blue sky

below that a sash of perfect darkness that were smooth clouds

holding lightening miles and miles off

when you asked me if i was holding my breath

 i said no

___

we all pay debts we cannot afford

we all pay debts we cannot afford

that is part of living and committing acts

sometimes they're needed more often not  

if only we had more prudentia 

justitia is up there on a pillar on the mount

always white even in the dark and blindfolded

seeing with all her self as the scales sway

with just the hidden flick of the wrist

you can live in perpetual penury paying off 

what is owed by others and fearing a sword 

or you could choose to be joyful inside every action

through faith and action 

in equanimity

dread creeds fade unholy deals unmade

have courage in choosing a life and view then

committing to it and making it true rather

than what society has told you again and again 

when it rarely believes what it insists

pay or be free go or stay but strive to be more

than what you saw and what was thought

by yourself or anyone else who said they thought

now the heart's darkness resolved in it's own place

the undiminished sun of luminous clarity 

shines continuously 

see how wide and full the world is and as the sky

have good fortune wherever you go 

and in any company happy

---

For Jñāna

do you trust toads more than frogs

do you trust toads more than frogs,

is it because of something that happened?

what could a frog or a toad do, to offend you?

___

do magpies travel with luggage

do magpies travel with luggage --

if they do, is the luggage small?

could crows do a better job?

___

there's so many weird questions

there's so many weird questions,

as many strange questions

as scary spiders, i bet

__

how many dogs can you read

how many dogs can you read,

is it a finite number?

for me it is limitless

___

there's outsiders on the stairs

there's outsiders on the stairs
thinking they don't belong 

but everything lives here

as the threshold is crossed

see they don't have to be proud

or even ashamed 

there's a delicate purple 

in the sky between tree branches

and the rooflines of dwellings

*

i had a dream i was with a crowd of demons

i had a dream i was with a crowd of demons

it was all very funny until they realized 

i knew they were demons

then the atmosphere was a bit strained

so i left with a grandmother 

who climbed stairs like a spider

chop wood with me now in this poem 

the season is right and tonight

we might see the borealis so far south

small flakes of wood will fall from the stump

as the wood explodes into two pieces

and the axe goes deep into the log

you might be the demon who thought they hid

all along in plain sight and invited in

to cut wood or climb stairs as a grandma

*

We talked of the slide show in the circus

We talked of the slide show in the circus,

of how everyone there seems to be so happy --

they're freaks in bliss, and we're normal and not. 

*

i take a look

i take a look into the medicine cabinet of my life

and see what is in there all my goddamn aspirin bullshit

*

going into soul

going into 

soul

looking for 

something

finding always 

soul

*

there he is

there he is
my friend who is grey now

he does not look too old and

i am reminded i am that old and older too

i have not seen him in 15 years

he still has the same look in his eyes

people laugh when he comes in the door 

the kind of guy who always has interesting things to tell

*

life seems to go slowly

then at the same time it speeds

going so rapidly how can anyone keep up

in the end we don't .. it is impossible 

but no need to ask for pardon

strive for good form or the ability to reason

or dedicate yourself to one or a dozen causes

convincing or compelling keen spiritual development

you could wear robes

or join a concern where the devotes 

and you all appear clothed like peacocks

mantras are fashionable and blending well being

.

.

.

the best thing i can hope for

is to get untangled from my ideas 

all like nets for catching people places things

but now i see i am hopelessly caught and the solution

is to sever them with sharp intention

the alternative is get more tangled 

and slowly twirling drown

in broad daylight at the office or in the kitchen

>

and what more? i could try for

stronger amens and genuine affection

sweeping away an ego that balks but can see plainly

a breathless horizon beyond all thinking and calculation

not too shabby a thing 

where now is now is now is now and

always now and never was anything else but

this beautiful endless place where seasons fly on wings

i could even let my old friend back in 

when i tell him everything i thought here

he'll just smile