Outside

Falling tiny flecks of snow
Over a field shorn of cornstalks
Stubble as far as the eye can see
Is this what you want to see?

The land rises slightly to a crest
A mile away to some kind of vastness
You can only guess then turn and look
At a tree somehow keeping its leaves

Against a white wall the cavernous
Barn where all kinds of creatures
Struggled struggle lived live and love
Now all quiet taking a nice rest

So what for you today? Will you
Restlessly walk fences over these
Unspoken inner reflections all
The opposite of helpful meditation

Falling tiny flecks of snow
Coming down harder can you decide
Let the sower's struggle be concluded
Feel the natural serenity that arises


**

a man finds his bath

uncertain at first
of a hint too refined
very hot as well but
willing to give it a go

finding it is a damn
nice thing more or less

sticking your feet out
on the lip on the edge
reading the sports page
& smoking a cigar

new thoughts what
a beautiful sky and

oh well the neighbor
can see me

*

a poem offers / safe passage through

a poem offers
safe passage through
hostile territory of contempt
the walls of will

offers a light
in the darkness
penetrating a shadow of self
which explains

once revealed
truth shows poems
can change everything
as they do


**

there is only peace

there is only peace

how you got your mind
to accept it

a long journey
or did you go for grace

there is only peace



**

blocks seem multiplied / through the night by trees

blocks seem multiplied
through the night trees
stripped of their leaves

every doorway lit one way
or another and the parks
ever darker under towers

a mysterious haze rises
diffusing a kind of shine

where thoughts are more real
than people silhouettes on the
ramshackle boulevard

church steeples
then everlasting snow

_____

down on nicollet ave
minneapolis

past isn't gone / it is being wrought

past isn't gone
it is being wrought
how i live this day

therefore what
is ever being written
by a daily hand


----

11.06.18

my past isn't gone/ it is being wrought by

my past isn't gone
it is being wrought by
how i live in this day

therefore what was
is ever being cast
from this choice

----

Winter 2018

easy lightly/ fine and delightful

easy lightly
fine and delightful
should be the sentiments
slightly sprightly

save the world
for heavy scored sharpness
overwrought curtness
rigorous fate




11.06

not a mis-step/ every important word

not a mis-step
every important word
intelligent and interlocked
springing to the mind speaks
whole worlds curtained now
thrust wide open

revealed
like a laugh of the one
who drowsy in confusion
thought the time would never pass
never pass and be set in dullness
but they awake


888

i admire/ the seamless poetry

i admire
the seamless poetry
furled down the page
as a river of wit
gentle with confidential
confidences and huge
intelligence each word
liked and well placed
mine more like
a shitshow or a picket
fence yawning and
many slats missing
you can easily
get through and i
want you to 

but why should i be
critical in any way
so against smooth
verse luxuriously
flowing like
hair from a tower
from the gorgeous
poet who can

in this ugly world


***

the peak's ice beckons/ inviting you to try for

the peak's ice beckons
inviting you to try for
the impossible places
the vertical palaces
your eye can see
that would confer
such a lonely splendor
if you were up there
as if immortal bathed
in endless light

a lonely feeling
comes and goes
in the mind
of the climber

then a kind
of exaltation

most unspoken
thus unsullied


***

the best moments/ i forgot myself

the best moments
i forgot myself
or how to be

instead i was steady
as light through
stained glass

or as playful
as the very
reflections



^^^

the trees all the same height/ palais-royal--

the trees all the same height

palais-royal

when snow

fell gently measuring these all all

while silence

was keenly felt

and forgotten umbrella

forgotten


***

the heavens were the highest/ here where i found them on earth

the heavens were the highest
here where i found them on earth
amid secondhand buildings and
with those who had no glamour

they taught me the hidden inexhaustible
mysterious purity of this mumbled
worrisome place an existence not to
be taken seriously but a little deliriously

what does that mean where is it at?
how can we find meaningful life
if we live heedlessly or give up on
the concrete lies we've all owned

birds and fields garages and lakes
roadways and paths weeds and bijous
sometimes gathering up other times
falling away with the zest of god


***

enough words/ live up to something/ like one day

enough words
live up to something
like one day

*

the day make it
bright
fine sailing

*

the day
have it be
applause

bells

notes

greetings

big hugs

day have
it be

new horizons

paper origami

gratitude

a smile

**

this is my soul/ i know it when i am sleeping

this is my soul
i know it when i am sleeping

in the mind of dream
all is clear and unfrozen

elated


time can run free
dead flowers blooming

at waking we are pinioned
by unwavering duty or form

old sensibilities
to their tasks

impressed by the stamp
of servant




**

a scattering of flakes/ over the house

a scattering of flakes
over the house
                     snow
that vanishes when
wind picks up
and dawn is here


**

paper bees make/ honey the color of highlighters

paper bees make
honey the color of highlighters
in pencil combs

beekeeping
on a pad of paper
comfort of imagination

flowers everywhere
here in the room
of furniture fields and trees


***

it needs some work the house/ wants some tender loving care

it needs some work the house
wants some tender loving care
not complaining but the mute
walls have taken some strain
witnessed stalemates that were
not foreordained but determined
tantrums or just silences

with painting and patching
straightening refinishing
it could have new laughter
gazes presents gatherings
music dancing conversations
that go all night long while
gardens sleep and ideas grow

then the snow will fall happy
and the yard will embrace it
the roof will be like wings
every window merry
trees over threshold golden
all the rooms blessed


#

in the land of altered bodies/ i have green beans for legs

in the land of altered bodies
i have green beans for legs
arms of cinnamon sticks

royal jelly torso
mashed potato gravy hair
nuts for fingers & candy eyes

while i sonorously speak
you may admire my
fondant clothes

we'll wander along
under the asparagus trees
or on spun sugar shore

the lemon drop sun
shines above in peppermint
and blueberry skies

have you been to
cookie dough heights
or to the bottom
of an orange jelly sea?

at 3 o'clock
the ginger rooster crows
and we'll have our sumptuous tea



*

may there be a citadel / bright on top of a hill

may there be a citadel
bright on top of a hill
with a light at night
not lost in the dark


*

i want weeds / in the manicured lawn of my mind

i want weeds
in the manicured lawn of my mind
but i would not to suffer from any blemish

proving the idle
think they could have some flaws
to spice things up



**

Le Corbusier

the memorial of his grave
is a moment in you

sensing a wide and open horizon
usually vast as it is blue


***

Charles-Édouard Jeanneret

***

9.22.18

in this disturbed bliss
all blessings are possible

*

everything you thought
was crooked stolen lost or wrong

simply moody till
you rested in the kind of sight

that only brings comfort
and delight

*

now retread your path
see everything new




**

northern hemisphere / autumn equinox

northern hemisphere
autumn equinox
day and night
of equal length

the light paler
but the trees are
full of green leaves
some turning hint
yellow or red

the oaks stalwart
weeping willows
swaying over
pond that sheltered
faun and duckling

you might wonder
where they have gone
if you will see them
one last time tonight

peeping through
grasses and cattail
that are thinning


**

9/22/18
Heart Lake
MN

If your conduct follows the view ... Khenpo Tsewang Rinpoche

"If your conduct follows the view, you will end up a complete nihilist . . . If your view follows your conduct, your will never get out of duality. Therefore, view should be brave. Conduct should be timid."

-- Khenpo Tsewang Rinpoche

i am like a noun/ a quail's song

i am like a noun
a quail's song
the still
morning
with just we two
adjectives
young and keen
waiting for day's
warmth to gather
baskets
of verbs



*

away from home

i tried not being lost
but every place i stared at seemed untrue

the math was wrong
talking silly and songs were out of tune

what we really want
down to our core is a place called home

when you've gone
out of home's door and home's sight

every moment is a journey
full of trials and tribulations til you get back

some of us are fated
to wander and never return

others of us choose



***

for my father

mr sugary writes poetry/ of the sweetest kind

mr sugary writes poetry
of the sweetest kind
candied words like
caramel apples and
whole lines as if
marzipan or strudel

if only i could
craft a single slab
of peanut brittle



88

he dabbles in lies

he dabbles in lies
as if it were art

but the truth
is far beyond

his wasted
talents



**

9.11.18

9.11.18


so it has been 17 years
and i still can't think clearly
about what happened that day
some memories hang there
staccato moments
vibrantly in a jumble

the cabinet i was building
fell apart two heavy mirrored
rectangular doors falling
hurting me

then i heard that the
world trade center had been hit
by one plane on accident
or on purpose who
knew then

when most of were watching
the second tower was hit
by a second jetliner
it flew right into the skin
of the sky scraper
leaving a plane
silhouette

then an explosion
silent on live TV
you were shaking inside
as debris and burning
jet fuel fell earthwards

all flights in the nation
being grounded and a feeling
of anger sadness and horror
a feeling of helplessness
and betrayal

buying a flag
listening to radio stations
commemorating the dead
by playing the national anthem

being afraid ever since
saying at times i am not afraid
that terrorists will never win
raising kids and taking jobs
and being afraid ever since

that fear getting less and less
all the wars we fought
since then

knowing white tombstones
green lawns and endless
blue skies

feeling the world getting smaller
strangers being stranger
no jet is innocent

above all endless blue skies
all who believe in
all who love



***

this milkweed mind/ trifles yet always striving

this milkweed mind
trifles are always striving
i'd realize more but such is pride

asclepias asclepiadoideae
dogbane family apocynaceae
lowly yet the home of glorious butterflies

may i move slow
or not at all just trembling slightly
at recognition of grace winged befalling


***

movies make the unknowable / awkward and even frightening genius

movies make the formidable
awkward and even frightening genius
into delightful dreamers
wistful souls driven by elation

but some brilliant artists
were angry impossible magnificence
cannot be pasteurized
to sell cars wallpaper or tea




***

For Vincent van Gogh

poems as rejoinders / to the opinionated

poems as rejoinders
to the opinionated
tombstones that have
offended this live man

lazy ego

a stab of the fear of death
like a stroke of light
on
polished stone

goes
straight
into the eye


___

Colma CA

and this cannot / be my soul for

and this cannot
be my soul for
i seem to know it
when i am sleeping


**

at hat lake we have / our druthers

at hat lake we have
our druthers

some say these are
insulting

but if you listen
quietly

they turn out to be
crickets



***

Hat Lake
MN

nothing unexpected / every tree and branch and leaf in place

nothing unexpected
every tree and branch and leaf in place

all you can see
is not your own it never was just like blue sky

like saying
i own the blue sky or i am the blue sky

but it is true
you are everything you see and you are the blue sky




88

as we build a boat / named 'pussycat' to sail / to the moon

it is raining blue baby owls
they are hopping ones too
landing on the spoons in the yard
they eat the fresh day ice cream
that collects in the cusps
satisfied some even play
songs on the piano
light and catchy tunes
as we build a boat
named 'pussycat' to sail
to the moon



***

Hat Lake
MN

if i decide to have/ a positive attitude

if i decide to have
a positive attitude
without demanding anything
from you or the world
i have given myself
power of positive mind

and how often have i been
mistaken to think
such and such or so

when there really
was nothing wrong

ever



---

9.05.18

poet play my soul

poet play my soul

i am a rude fiddle

that would sing

like a stradivarius




6

No. 2 Poem 'waking up during'

waking up during
these negotiations
and i say to god

roll the closing costs
of my whole life
into the end

and i'll pay them
by making something
of myself you'll see

then waking up more
because life is funny
and makes no sense

all we have is happy
being happy
choosing happy


&&

waking up during / these negotiations

waking up during
these negotiations
with god i say

roll the closing costs
of my whole life
into the end

and i'll pay them
by making something
of myself you'll see

then waking up more
because life is funny
perfect sense

all we have is happy
choosing happy
this now


88

everything i discovered / i found

everything i discovered
i found

it was inside me
all

i had overlooked
it

so it was so keen
to know



---

2346 1/2 Red Street

do you miss me
i'm not dead

detected life
merely like

a camera shutter
open then closed

or a melody
you stopped singing

if you stop
inciting limitation

you'll see me
i see you



**

he waited and lied his whole life
until the waiting and lies caught up to him
like a slow moving train
who knows how long

smell that cosmic dinner is ready

i would say i know true happiness
the way out of every damned place
the path to where we have always been
because if it is true and real then
all that bad news and stale air you breath
just was part of a pause like the whole universe
and a whole constructed life of conscious thoughts
was just a drape you were studying
stirring crisply and rearranging hues
smell that cosmic dinner is ready


----

10:24 AM - 29 Aug 2018

Think beautiful thoughts. Thought attracts like-minded people. :-)

10:24 AM - 29 Aug 2018

we are going forward / we have nothing in the end

we are going forward
we have nothing in the end

especially when
full of treasure & crowned by laurels

everything stashed
or cleverly concealed blown sky high

into the air into the sky
into light into dark

then any small kindnesses
or accidental graces become so high

conversion is here
every drab old thought and feeling gone

we are going forward
we have nothing in the end


**

formality and repression / anger with all the comfort of home

formality and repression
anger with all the comfort of home
at times joviality
sounding so strange to the children
delighting in visitors
weary of the routine and the hearth
occasionally bearing gifts
more often punctually coming and going
buried thoughts on display
pantomime the unconscious personality
when over a sigh like a wave
thank god it is done

but as you were stranded
others have sailed on


____

and there is quietness / and there are viewers from unknown regions

and there is quietness
and there are viewers from unknown regions

o great depths of greatness
we are all fixtures like wind-vanes

sailing in place
moving in space impossible to know

born in everything
never being separated from all


**

840

excuse me
i'm dead and so are you

did you ever feel
like you'd live forever

we all go through
that phase like a speeding car

that has no road
and no brakes

excuse me
i'm alive and so are you

i have found my life

zest and endless horizon

by ceasing to omit or compare

a barking dog / against a white wall

a barking dog
against a white wall

all i see

but i can tell
the dog is laughing

by barking

he won't bite me
though he poses to

life is like that


**

11 and Vine

awaking suddenly
we are all strange at night
even in our own room
here is my hand
it is warm making up
for the stark silhouette
and these eyes


__

he could write in such a way

he could write such a way
about boats bread or a street
in a certain flair

you would adore the writing
and hate the poet



#

reversal of roles

my dad died
i'm looking at all these shots of him
pictures of the family and friends
neighbors backyards

photos seen all my life
but now i can't remember everything
there's an emptiness

before i'd have
10 or 100 or 1000 incidental recollections
seeing the picture now like
a scene acted out by people i know

plus irony?
my dad gone
reversal of roles
my dad is young and i am old

and where did it all go
moon is the same sun is the same
stars too but not all of us

even age out of order
every immovable
down here moved


**

12th Ave N & 3rd St N

scooping water by hand
praying by hand
writing poetry by hand
all laborious constantly
gathering up and dropping
getting down to fingers
plucking at ukulele strings
ukulele ukulele jumping fleas
getting down to nails
beds of them the crescents of them
down to the tree i have
on the side of my hand
the tree with four nail moons
below it

i want to be writing and making sense
but not meaning anything

being free

then because of this
we may arrive at the truth we arrive at

look at this

like a stick dipping into the surface
of our minds

ripples are words


**

Fountain Ave

several times yes
i do not know:

every tree we see becomes a mansion
that the planets and stars sashay in
appealing to the backdrop of mind

**


несколько раз да
я не знаю:


каждое дерево, которое мы видим, становится домом
что планеты и звезды танцуют в
обращаясь к фону ума

**

for ee cummings

i can give you nothing but this face
fixed in white plaster

a funeral mask

in it i hope you will see i know nothing

i am beyond all hope

and fear

if you give a few lines how i could be

careful and even

kind to love

i will be grateful wherever i've gone

you will not know where

but joy i'll be

---

for ee cummings

Post Street

stay with me down the lane
where fame never comes
but the moon sends us letters
sun cleverly rises like a cat

where angels drop by in jeans
above and below mingle for pantomimes
death demures to win at cards

beautiful odes going in and out
of the windows like carrier pigeons
the afternoon tea full of stories
and clocks stuffed with honey

stay with me down the lane
where pillows are plumped
and the bed is covered in gold ingots

civilizations astounded by
red beans and rice
doilies and pumps
crow rickshaws wiser

**

WB

he sang this
o beauty

every place he lived in or loved
was knocked down

his gravesite was neglected
lost then found

angels he heard sing true
never stopped

crowded in the trees above
new white stone

can you hear the songs
can you see

he sang thus
o beauty

___

8.13.18

he said a sense of longing starts a poem

he said a sense of longing starts a poem
keen homesickness loss or grief
and if the poet knows the reader knows
hope rescue and belief

life moved mysterious deep and sweet
of journeys and in verse
harbor is never far away and often
we are safe before we see



**

for gurr
8.10.18

and

Robert Frost

Sedgwick Street and 21st Lane SW

i am free
to think a hell or a heaven
see the end or the beginning
say we are separate or united
feel we are far away or close
with such freedom

o my what a big sky

**

to gurr
8.9.18

Boston Avenue South

we have nothing we can give to anyone
but also everything to give

supposedly each of us on an island or in a castle
untouchable and separate

or we are all one and there is no division
you are tending to my heaven and i yours


**

to gurr
8.9.18

33rd Avenue Southwest

a manager of dewdrops at dawn

the counter of sunbeams on leaves at noon
listening for every bubble pop at the brook

guesser of what the frogs think

sky and all the clouds
measuring the quality of the day

mediating unspoken histories of
anything in anything

in every task it assigns to itself

doubly and triply effective 

inching closer to perfection

by every grain of dust collected

*

Seminole Avenue West

as a courtesy i stole every thing from them
every dream every hope every holdout and illusion

from this outrage they then claimed it all back from me
when they had nary a complaint nor a resentment

with a peace so high and so calm and so constant
every mechanization of mine was flowered into a bouquet
of bliss of blessings of return and home unending


*

Lambeth Place

let me have my mountain
i'll climb it and i may find you
climbing too or ever at the summit

you might be that star i was seeing
all my life that i thought
would never be reached


**

July 13

the living the doing
the involved the busy

we can't see anything
but that is not sad

beyond ordinary eyes
worldly sounds

majestically the retinue
is gathered

having a good time

*

when you do see them
we'll all have a good laugh

remembering how detail
is so real and every flower

is like a mountain
and bees

like eagles





***



July 13

dad this tribute to you / until we meet again

dad this tribute to you
until we meet again
above the sky beyond
in timeless time
we turn to memories
recollection stories
that make a smile
photographs become
beacons or stages

like the one
on the day of marriage
it is a bright scene
him prime steadfast
earnest heart united
with his bride and
she in white satin
bright as grace
or like lightening

together a life unfurling
great and unknown
they both so young
poised too in that light
it is so far away
and yet so close

miles moved
off to the west
the houses cars
children and stories
jobs commutes
songs dinners jokes
work roofs roofed
yards and fireworks
faithful dogs books
packards and campouts
redwoods bodega bay
industry passion
like an arrowhead
like a finding
and if needed a push
would give a shove
when striving
he won

for some he is in
everything we
ever thought
above all
he was and still is
not done but moving
in hearts and in minds
son brother husband father
grandfather companion
friend steadfast
a veteran

him in one
recent photograph
taken not far from here
a knowing smile
kind tilt of the head
caught in that light again
so bright so far away
and yet so close

love and joy
for him that comes
because he gave it

if you decide
to look for him today
you cannot find him
anywhere because
he is everywhere

----

6/17/18

under the purple sky

i dream quite a long time
vividly about being able to fly
in this dream flying is easy
and i can go vast distances

i fly to a land that has big boulders
resting on waves of pink stone
the people native to there
build houses at the bases of them

it becomes dusk and the lights
of all the dwellings start to come on
i watch this from a beehive shaped stone
i landed on under the purple sky


**

i had a dream of dying / in a micro hotel

i had a dream of dying
in a micro hotel
guarded by teenagers high
armed with automatic weapons

i woke up not in a
micro hotel on a day that
promises to breezy and sunny
with no problems really

the issues are all out of sight
developing in directions
causes and conditions form
like innocent clouds at first

but for this bright easy day
why should anyone worry
or think dark thoughts
of a broken world

on this bright awake day
there's still time to change
spread peace and hope and save
the parents of the parents

and their parents and even me
the owner of the micro hotel
and tyrant
in that dream


**

lie in my obituary

"No me dejen morir así, digan que dije algo ..."

 --- José Doroteo Arango Arámbula


lie in my obituary
tell them i freed every lion bear and tiger i met
tell them birds would land on my fingers
i could sing whole operas by heart
i knew 350 languages
i traveled the world
tell them i knew the best places that made shoes compasses marbled paper fireworks and beehives
i invented complicated technology that contacted alien life
that allowed barriers here on the planet to fall
tell them i was grateful dignified knowledgeable and funny
tell them i had a tattoo and a parrot and an orchard of golden apples
and when i swam every river i encountered i was like a dolphin
or like beowulf

tell them i had the sky in my eyes with a hint of lightening
all the world was in my heart and peace and justice in each hand
when i rested i was meek as a dove and when roused valiant like a lion


99

reading my father's obituary

reading my father's obituary
i'm a little bit angry he's gone
but it passes the details are nice
my sister wrote it for the paper

she works for them as an editor
how good does it get to have
your obituary written by family
but i suppose all obituaries are like that

and it comes to me that there is so much
i will never know and i never asked
because i resented the information
or i thought we had more time

in what you could know
in what you might want to find out
in what you keep forgetting to say
all my selfishness toward my father

for he is like a mountain that has vanished
mountains of mountains or even the sky
gone distilled into words on a page
with a photo on how he'd like to be seen



@@

99

i've been poisoning my own mind
by thinking about what i want or what i'd like

as if desiring something right would justify
what i am doing in poisoning myself



99

Essential Knots: Lao Tzu Says Don't Be Sad

I learn 5 essential knots. When I get home I want to show them to Lao Tzu, who is sitting on the couch and petting one cat with one hand, and the other cat with his other hand.

"Here is the 'bowline' and here is the 'larkshead'" I say, "But I can't remember the other three essential knots."

"And the 'bowline' I just made fell apart. So I don't know the 'bowline' after all." I confess.

I feel very down that I couldn't tie 4 of the knots.

"Don't be sad." says Lao Tzu, smiling, still petting the cats, "If there were bows here to tie lines on, you would know how, and do it."


----

Osseo

Chung Tzu: Why don't you give them a heads up like I do?

The morning is beautiful, bright, with a few stray clouds going west. Going to work, I get cut off repeatedly by a fiery red Dodge Charger. I think the driver is not paying attention, or they are crazy.

When I pull into work, it pulls up next to me.

Chung Tzu is at the wheel, and I see Lao Tzu and Henry Ford talking quietly in the back seat.

"I am astonished!" I say. "I did not know you could drive."

"Yaaaas?" replies Chung Tzu like Dean Moriarty.

"How so? Why?" is all I can say back.

"If you are aware you know so little, why do you take such pride in what you think you know?" says Henry Ford.

"Just what the man said." says Chung Tzu.

"But what about all the bugs and little creatures that will get hurt when you go speeding down the road?"

"Oh, that is not a problem." says Chung Tzu, revving the engine, "I just yell out from time to time as we go that I'm completely mad ... "

"I don't think that will work for me."

"Have you tried?" asks Henry Ford.

"Not yet."

"Well, if you don't try things, you'll never know." says Henry Ford.

"Even things that seem to be silly?"

"Yes." says Henry Ford.


***

Later in the day I call Chung Tzu up.

"How is the driving going? How are all those critters and bugs?"

"Just fine!" says Chung Tzu.

"Oh?"

"Yeah! We can be OK out in the world, anywhere. The only person they have to watch out for is people like you! Why don't you give them a heads up?"

"I'd rather be the kind of person where they don't have to watch out for me at all." I say after thinking about what Chung Tzu said.

"Oh?" asks Chung Tzu. "You could try that too."



***


Minnetonka
Cheshire Lane

at the window sill on a windy day / there is a downturned drinking glass

at the window sill on a windy day
there is a downturned drinking glass
set on a square of cardboard
purpose forgotten and a cat content
cleaning his paws and face

wind roars and the window opened
just a crack lets the breeze in

the down-turned drinking glass
could be covering could be holding
every secret contained in thoughts
what you kept and what escapes
at the window sill on a windy day



***

Maple Grove
6/3/18

the money route / it all costs money

the money route
it all costs money
the house
the lifestyle
the ideals the happiness
the anger
the self-justification
if you're going to live
with money
the money route
money becoming
higher than even
who you are
or will ever
want to be

having the latest
looking perfect
on the outside
ever striving
racing over the globe
life fleeting
unhappy children
co workers breaking
house too big
lifestyle ridiculous
a tyranny of fashion
of lawn parties
of clubs
of worthy causes
of sorees
of NY LA and Paris

and the yacht you couldn't get
and the event they blocked you from
and the award you never will get
and the recognition imitators stole
and the truth of all the effort
and the valley you wanted to cultivate
and the villa you would have retired to
and the countryside you would have wandered
like a newly minted vagabond




***

a door slams hard in the hallway / a woman screams someone falls more words

a door slams hard in the hallway
a woman screams someone falls more words

takes me back to oak park
we were the new couple from california

the newcomers who fought
the neighborhood hung back and peeked

didn't want to get whatever
we had like it might be a disease

the house we owned
was known secretly to be unlucky

whoever called the cops
to clean out our 'shit act' from california

whoever hung the rear bumper
from the back fence while i was away

whoever broke in looked
and investigated the home and remains

thanks it was a pleasure
for the hospitality and your kindness

confirming the kind of neighbors
to those in trouble you'd want to be

i heard a new couple moved in
with three small girls and a couple of cats

they're from around there
they redecorated and are very happy


____

corcoran over country road / before it rains i see a two red birds

corcoran over country roads
before it rains i see a two red birds

playing on the side of the road
almost like a dance where it was

just a month ago a layer of mum snow
now as i passed a seeming endless

place where living and dying is freely exchanged
over the fields as far as you'd care to see

marked by every fence and
animal dream


***

corcoran / over country roads

corcoran
over country roads

before it rains
i see a leaf and plastic bag

playing on the side
of the road

almost like a dance
where it was

just a month ago
a layer of snow there

as i passed

now seeming endless
place where

living and dying is
freely exchanged

over the fields as far
as you'd care to see

marked by every fence
and animal dream


***

Corcoran
6/2/18

noon field so broad / full trees and the earth

noon field so broad
full trees and the earth
all witnessing sky

fox and eagle fight
grasped rabbit in-between

thought doomed
the rabbit wiggled free
bloodied but alive

vanishes into reeds
fox and eagle denied

noon field so broad
fox goes one way
eagle goes another

full trees and the earth
all witnessing sky



**

let me express my zeal

let me express my zeal
for the burning of the world
but the hotter it gets
the colder i feel

o stars i was the brightest
none came close to me
thus my coldness
my hate

i forged the depths of hell
from the most stalwart of souls
invincible like me
in defiance

revolutionaries great cause
the highest one of all
break the sacred yoke
suffer and be free

glorious in anger and rage
wrath higher and higher seen
embers flung spite
angles eyes

i pledged

all you betrayed all you
murderers takers stealers
besotted and insane
all abandoned

perjurers deniers killers
hate mongers revenge seekers
oath breakers teller of lies
corruptness

those who will never make
amends those who never
will bend or ask pardon
or surrender

come to the darkness i arraigned
come to the fires
that turn all to ashes
even mother and father

i will crush you
i will press you
i will use you
for all eternity


**

el diablo

Lao Tzu by the Grass

This morning, just after dawn, Lao Tzu is by the grass. He is by the pond with a flock of geese. They are all looking over the water.

I go downstairs to see him, with a cup of tea. I have to excuse myself past several of the geese, but they tolerate me.

"The grass is cool and wet on my feet." I say, as I give him the cup of tea.

"It stays that way almost all day, until the sun warms it." says Lao Tzu quietly.

"I meant to say 'good morning', but I said what I felt instead. The grass and the cool water on my feet."

Lao Tzu smiles, blows on the tea. "Few speak what they feel!"



***

Morning
By the Pond

on a hill of gozo/ there is church

on a hill of gozo
there is church
stout like the hill
pink like the rock
virgin mary
in a cave
at the foot

souls go to it
and back like
birds to it
and back like
ships to it this
church on the hill

even at night
if you are lost
or lonely or
tired you can find
on a hill of gozo

this church
virgin mary
in a cave
at the foot
stout like the hill

Peacefully or Fretfully

Chung Tzu and I sit outside under the trees, the dogwoods and serviceberrys are fragrant and bursting with white petals. They fall like snow! The sky is greater and greater and the petals keep falling.

"What do you say about these petals?" I ask Chung Tzu.

"They are all perfumed and falling sweetly." says Chung Tzu, "Some cry and say this is terrible. They cannot even sleep at night, clutching their pillow, moaning, grinding their teeth."

"Oh?"

"Others rejoice and are elated."says Chung Tzu, "Those sense the night so peacefully."

"Why?"

"Depends! How do you spend your night? Peacefully or fretfully?"


--------

By the Pond
Under the dogwood trees
Spring
MN

Chung Tzu Says Quietly

"Water does not run uphill. Wind does not blow backwards." I mention to Chung Tzu.

The light changes over the surface of the lake. I can see ripples spreading, as the wind blows. Dry reeds bend, from last summer. The new reeds will be pushing through.

"Ahem." he says.

"Where do these thoughts come from?" I ask him sincerely.

"Water flows. Wind blows. Mind plays at flowing, blowing." Chung Tzu says.


___

Afternoon
View of the Pond
MN

Chung Tzu Goes HONK

It is the morning, on the 3rd floor. Cats are fed. Chung Tzu comes in and points.

"Where you been?" I ask him.

"Been? Brother, I've been here all along!"

"Where?"

"La la! Down there. In paradise." he points to the pond.

"What did you find? Water and mud?"

"Reeds! Sticks!" says Chung Tzu.

"I saw you all along!" I exclaim, jumping up, shaking his hand. "I thought you were a big goose!"

"HONK!" goes Chung Tzu.



**

i'm not afraid of what i will find

May 7th

i'm not afraid of what i will find
it is a lock of your hair
i think about your shoes
how they were still there
pointed at the wall
the idea you were not
coming back to put them on
was insane impossible

i'm just a little afraid
of what i might think next
how it might extend the sadness
past where it is due
and should be felt
past when it is good
might extend past where
it should be let go

so i pray in three
different languages
all the heartfelt prayers
of devotion and generosity
that i can pray for you
my mother my enemies
and even for me
letting it all go

because we don't count
our tears by weight or
numbers nor on the
richter scale our thoughts

i'll pray for you now
and i will pray for you later
for all of us even dear reader
this will make some light
for those who decide
to keep on loving
after they cried
and the heart
was broken



**

there is a recent picture of you looking sprightly

there is a recent picture of you looking sprightly
with a huge grin the biggest i've ever seen from you
and something else more like how part of us
goes on forever after whatever happens next
mom called me and said she picked up your ashes
the other afternoon and they were in a plain wooden box
just the kind of box you might appreciate and i think
of agony of sleep of trails and planes connections weariness
leaving arriving leaving moon rising falling venus black night
small bedside light sheets the blues a bed turn turn unspooling
dawn whiteness of stones and green green grass at dawn
home you smiling in the kitchen because my sister said
'smile dad!' and you were feeling pretty good so you did


**

for my father
5.04.18

this may day beneath the breath of

this may day beneath the breath of
a bronze and powder blue sky
branches all trembling
shoots and buds to enjoy
all the sun and admiration
of every creature that can be glad


----

Osseo
May 1
2018

i won't say it

i won't say it
of the loving grace
and the mercy of the sky

i won't say it
everything about you
and i abandoned all hope
all thoughts

i won't say it
two geese looking like silver
flew under the orange moon and
i prayed


8

let me get the feeling

let me get the feeling
muse of a dream where i was stealing
from dead friends or that the ghost
of jc haunts the  GREAT BICYCLE OF THIS EARTH
in his lonely way high high up as the holy spirit
like a moon reflected in the attic window
in the eyes of a doll reflected in a black mirror

and i would never
be stealing from my friends who have passed
virtually or in this waking life and i would never
think that jc is haunting the RAMBLING MANDARIN ORANGES
with a feeling of wandering sadness high high up
where you can barely see his wise and lonely face
that is at both revealing remote and frightening

but how do you live
and where did you go and who did you see
and in what city did you travel to and see the face
of jc in a cathedral or a canal or a eatery or bar
or the leftover portions of a house or mansion
bombed and the shelled and then repaired and then
still haunted with such faces and the holy spirit
WE THREE KINGS OF ORIENT ARE

no tour de force
no abiding and no never claiming anything
from my friends who have gone before me
and just watching the moon where i am
how things come and go in this mansion i found
by accident and the mirrors and the high window
that revealed this poem this moon and the deep yearning
for  REMANDED TO MY BROTHER'S KEEPER
that surprises one when the night is right
and you are far away from faith




**

not to be dark

not to be dark
but in being watched
at any time reviewed
the potential of being scanned
online

like the same
as if they got a ladder
and light and shone it in
your night time window
when you were
sleeping

and you can't
do anything
to stop them

or could
brick up your window
and not breathe

such is the security
of the state
shone through
the prism of personality
of
privacy

creating these
floating rainbows
and algorithms
on the ceiling
in society
in the law
on our minds


*

in every bud scores of leaves

in every bud scores of leaves
every leaf an entire world
all these places unfurling
so millions and millions of worlds
teeming waving taking sun and shade
adding to my own little world

i find myself singing out
laughing wanting to run or play
how can i bide with ideas like
if i should go or not or be restrained
when mother nature abounds
with such wonderful multiplicity

go!
play!


_____

Minnetonka
April 30 2018

i've been thinking about / my life now ... a poem that took 27 years to write

... ..... me at 23:

i've been thinking about
my life now and
wondering if it is
worth living --
not thinking of suicide
but just thinking on
the alternatives one has
besides suicide

what can i do/ or could do
to change the changes

i wish i could think
about my life seriously
like it was some precious
mineral
or think about my life
considering it
like one might contemplate
something holy

i don't mind to say
that great holiness is
not a thing i see as
all important to a good life
holiness has
always framed up external
barriers bridges and
avenues

i can see them but
i know they are
not for me -- i am
not for them
yet we get along alright

i could have overlooked
something dangerous
that will be popping up
out of the smoke
i'm not immune nor fixated
on pain
and at the same time
i don't want to say
that i ate slept and
breathed myself into
a coffin

 ... .... me continuing at 50:

i believe
we should live well
specially
in being happy
and tell others how we did it
and if they want
do what we did
and it is good for them
then that is
the whole point

-----

for latif harris
for robert funge
for lama tharchin
for dudjom rinpoche
for my own father

some of my own notes
written in about 1990
found in a book
about Jack Kerouac
"Jack's Book"
two days after my father died

on sunday morning come soon

on sunday morning come soon
his breathing is slow and light
his eyes are open and he is composed
after two days of toil
after two days of work

the body lessening grip on a soul
or unwinding like a tight coil
a bright spring that ran
as a someone being a man
letting nature go bit
by bit as if out of a cage
out of a box out of an envelope
loose from the flesh

morning noon evening
deep into the last night
speaking sounds
with some inflection
that we could comprehend
meaning 'going out'
'going soon' 'hearing all'
with exhaustion we sleep
he works on works on

then sunday morning come soon
his breathing is slow and light
his nails are gently blue
his eyes open and he is composed
laying in the bed
that was his grandfather's
at home home home

some breeze
fluttering the blinds
and then still free bright


**

For my father
Robert Werth Evans
4.22.18
Napa CA

fully involved

now in age 50 fully involved
seeing a vision like a fire
burning down a physical self
thoughts center around aging again

cycles turning spinning a regime
of meditations as if like an athlete
i must be in prime shape for time's assault
that will never stop until i am stopped

plans are made but seldom go
unplaced into motion plans expire
despite the game of thinking on
thinking thinking

feeling helpless and on edge
yet suddenly sometimes entering
another zone of having all the time
in the world like i always acted like i had

just as quickly now i see i do not
by witness of my parents
passing friends in a world that
came before me and thus owes me nothing

but i will be valiant in poems
and not give up happiness
because it is happiness
because i am happy

not think about things i should not
arrive at any conclusion of

or have any right to


----

for Robert Funge

at four pm

a snowflake
as a bird
or see a flower
as a mountain

all together
in one afternoon
at four pm
me thinking



**

i am asleep/ do you know me

i am asleep
do you know me
recognize me
then you too are asleep

we wear
these bodies
wear the
outerness

12345 main street
anytown anywhere
like bragging
bluster

farther out
there is wind there
is weather and
events

people places
things as nested
gears in a
mechanism

meticulously
arraigned shining
layers oh
so fine

crafted wound by
delirious clock
maker mind
architect

while the
present moment
is empty and
resependant

lumious
naked awreess
emptiness the
light

and this light
mistaken
for a trillion
thngs

silly silly
silly how can you
not be laughing
smiling

at a generous
pantomime
with the best
of intentions

innocent play
of a mind without
an ounce of
malice

lighter
than a sunbeam


____


for Jñana

a new snow / on this white spring

a new snow
on this white spring

i am grateful
for the slush and for the flakes

light or heavy
as it falls interrupts anything dull

shows the universe
is full and more is being created

more blessings
more over everything



**