Poem - The Patient 12

12

and like that

i see John Shipley

sitting in the bright sun

on the side of the road

on battered suitcase

when i get to him

he smiles 

a little sunburned

i'm sorry for any shocks

or surprises 

things happened very quickly

and i was moving

behind the scenes

pulling quantum strings

a fix or two to the 

continuum? we will see

he looks a bit

abashed then 

smiles again 

but you are doing

fine from what i 

see and i think from

what i know now

you will be 

absolutely ok 

he stands and

opens his arms

to the sky and

the whole world

we're men

who both have

everything and 

we know it 

he gives me 

an irresistible smile

how rare is that?

take care and

goodbye you're 

safe 

enjoy everything

that is to come

and before i can

protest or ask all

my questions he 

hands me the torn

ace then 

a quick embrace

a car pulls up

and he gets in

with the case

waves

and disappears

down the road

*

as the wind

picked up 

me standing there

i let the card go

watched it fly

into the sky 

until i could see it

then suddenly not

then i said a prayer

a heartfelt prayer 

for everyone i 

ever knew or hoped to know

everywhere they have been

and everywhere they might be

***

Poem - The Patient 11

11

we stay
at the lake 

the phone

does not ring

you seem younger

and then older

then younger again

at times when

you don't think i see you

tragic

and also beautiful

we are under a sky

with no limit of stars

at night

Poem - The Patient 10

10

we meet 

at a park 

it is almost dusk

i thought i was

ready 

but i see your face

contorted with 

guilt and regret

it comes as a

terrible shock

the way we

hurt and wound

each other

in the pursuit

of happiness

you 

say how

sorry you are 

over and over again

sorry sorry

so sorry

in the background

i see someone

i ask 

is he following you?

you turn

and when you 

see him

you clasp your arms

together holding

yourself tightly

and scream

go away!

go away!

as you do this

i touch your

shoulder and

you startle

we leave

together and

don't look back

later you 

cry and i hold you

i watch the 

light of the streetlamp

flowing over

slips of paper

tossed shoes clothes

books and a hat

=

from disaster to disaster
is all we are

some happy accidents and
others dread

scatters every moment in
fragments

and the pieces look like
everything

i don't feel bad
never worry about me
it was just the tilt of my face
i wasn't caught pensive

or with a frown

to be self absorbed like that
is unforgivable and selfish
i never feel that way
no worries at all

look at us as light

impermeable and transitory
flickering a bit and then
fading away water
into water

i think my
illusions are real

not like
windmills that i mock

the farce
is i am the farce

believing you
are the reason it is so


*

Poem - ordered minds / bearing down / or bowing

you go
i read about
st joseph of cupertino
majestically
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
creation
placated
by idiocy
impunity
through madness

ordered minds
bearing down

or bowing


____

New Years Eve
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



*

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


*

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

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
memory

one thing coming after the other recollections
overwhelm

like tracers or explosions so frequent to
blind

outwardly all appearances become like
lightening

shaped like people and things but none
abiding

thinking goes higher until it
evaporates

into a blinding scalding
steam




*

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
bloody

you recall later

the last picture
you had taken

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



*

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
Ulysses


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
12.07.15

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
12.04.15

Poem - freighters / bound

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

ships
laid out

the horizon
1 2 3

ready
to run

past
catalina

then go
west

as the sky
increases

and waves
crest


-----

Dawn
Sunset Beach
12.04.15

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



*

HB
2015 December

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



*

12.02.15

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
11/21/2015