your fears/ aniconic

your fears
aniconic 

and then

one forgets 

they are featureless

which adds to 

the unease

until you

realize there 

is nothing to fix

nothing to improve

nothing whatsoever

that had any

reality beyond

absolute perfection 

and the intuition

that goes hand in hand

with this view

so you can rest

as easy as being

in a swing with

kuntuzangpo

or any other

smiling sky

like being 

and under

both of your feet

as you sway together

all the earths and

all the skies and stars

and smiles and tears

you could possibly invent

*

i remember you teaching

 i remember you teaching

on those hot summer days

how i longed to see you

ask you a thousand questions

you were only 1 door away

and you would have been

happy for my visit i am sure

but i acted like i wasn't allowed

there were many of us

vain imaginative excited

and a bit overdramatic

but always welcomed

now mellowing with time

missing you just the same

and i aim to fix what does 

not need to be fixed by praying

devotedly and attempting 

to spread what you were really teaching

and what was ever in your heart 

then you remind me again

everything is resolved in its own place

from the beginningless beginning

from the view

love unconditionally 

this endless beauty

and be aware of now

--

July 22 

Minneapolis, MN

For Lama Tharchin Rinpoche

off you go on this day

away you go on this day

like off a spingboard or

on a rocket

or i am off the 

board and flying 

on the rocket

ultimately we don't

come or go so much

as it seems

---

LTR

you want to almost / hold your breath

perfectly balanced air

you can imagine it stacked up 

to the stratosphere

as the rabbits sit and squirrels run

this evening is vivid

the color of gold 

while green is striving 

growing blooming 

you want to almost 

hold your breath 

to prolong the summer

memorize the flash of lightening

and thunder that rolls out

over a steel colored lake

put the haunting night

into your heart with a million

zigging fire-flies

--

No Murder on Mars 002

The body was laying straight, forearms up. Clothing & skin had a thin layer of frost mixed with soil of a uniform brown color. The face, almost unrecognizable, was contorted.

I looked at the two, who were nervously shifting foot to foot.

"We should go over your timeline again. This is very important."

"Yessir."

"Tell me what happened first."

"Backed into the wall."

"Saw a hole"

"Then we saw a body."

I looked at them steadily.

"How long was it between when you put the hole in the wall, and you found the body?"

"Um. Er. Right away!"

"You are lying to me."

"No sir!"

"Why are you lying?"

"We aren't."

"You are! There had to be some time that passed between you backing into the wall, and then you retrieving your vehicle, and then finding a body."

"5 hours." said one of them 

"Because it was stuck?"

"Yessir"

"Anything else you want to revise?"

"No Sir."

"Pardon me. But how did you know at all these boys were being dishonest about their timeline? How does that influence the fact that a body has been found?"

I looked at the superintendent. "It has everything to do with how the body was found."

The superintendent widened his hands, "So?"

"See the crystals and tearing on the edges of the clothing? This body has been moved from a different location. Someone placed it here after the hole was put into the wall."

There isn't supposed to be murder on Mars 001

There isn't supposed to be murder on Mars. That is an Earth custom, a sense of the old barbarism from our planet of origin. The body was found in the old tunnels, it had become freeze dried where it had been stashed. 

"Tell me again how this was found."

"Varne Warren226 backed a sledge into the wall there, and we saw a hole."

"What were you doing down here, past the 3K markers?"

"Rat hunting, scrapping."

"They say these tubes here are haunted!"

I could see how someone would think these were haunted. Gloomy, unlit. Frosted. These were the old warrens and access corridors, bored through the Martian rock. 

When I looked at it, I involuntary shuddered. Lights from our headlamps slashed and raised monstrous shadows. 

"Have you touched the body, moved anything?"

"No sir."

"Hmmm" I could see that someone had. 

many of us dream of home

many of us dream of home 
at first in sleep
then we go and aspire
make that in
this waking day

when we dream well
it makes a beautiful home
where lots of people 
can dream their dream
of home

if it is built real or

in my mind

home is always home

what allows it to be

is the dream and

a dreamer who has

a dream

i would write poems about you

i would write poems about you

and poems about lightening 

thunder and storms

then of the quiet peaceful light

which is softly over everything

from beginningless beginning

we seem to have a makeup

that is not fixed and is as exciting

as it can be disappointing or unreal

the best writing are the phrases

never to be claimed but proven through 

every kind deed i do with you

*

one small flower

one small flower

on a bush outside the back door

with no mind to be seen

nor ever admired so i admire it

and i remember how a duck

saw making a nest behind 

this bush to be very tidy and snug

but when i came and returned

i made it afraid 

so i resolve to be

more vigilant and make room

if i can for shy things and

especially walk softly 

with a view this world

is not my rumpus room 

but formed very purely

cradling happy beings

that can flourish if not

cowed by brashness

*

we are mysteries

we are mysteries

which can make us so 

compelling so lost 

so haunted so graceful

so alluring blessed

wonderful

*

people that were loved

people that were loved
now dodged

how better it must be

now that i am sane

but is still just as bad

because while i err

i cannot see how

until later

*

this attitude

this attitude

like a sky that will

not go away 

but when i am 

asleep, is not here

*

Cycle

i apply to a job
they automatically congratulate me for applying
later they automatically reject me

it is all very friendly and encouraging  

i apply to a job
they automatically congratulate me for applying
later they automatically reject me

it is all very friendly and encouraging  

i apply to a job
they automatically congratulate me for applying
later they automatically reject me

it is all very friendly and encouraging  

i apply to a job
they automatically congratulate me for applying
later they automatically reject me

it is all very friendly and encouraging  

i apply to a job
they automatically congratulate me for applying
later they automatically reject me

it is all very friendly and encouraging  

you get to a point in life/ where nothing is safe

you get to a point in life

where nothing is safe

and that is when life

becomes interesting

*

marie antoinette's shoe

i look at a picture

of marie antoinette's shoe

it fell off her foot

on the way to the guillotine

it is a dainty thing

looking almost new

i wonder who grabbed it

when they saw it fall

they must have been

thrilled to have 

marie antoinette's shoe

*

show me a wise poem

show me a wise poem

the poem i need

to free me from my idle nonsense

which i very much like

i will be raised up

full of righteousness and abandon

my daisy arms and lazy fingers

writing stories in crayon

\* 

at one point

at one point

you'd call me

usually in the middle

of the night and i'd

always pick up 

and then part of me

always hoped

somehow you'd

come back 

though i knew

you never would

but i couldn't

help myself

thinking this

half asleep

hearing your

words (with a TV

on in the 

background)

then eventually

you stopped

calling

__

some people they ban books

some people they ban books

wishing they could ban thoughts

or even ban some people 

from breathing air

who wants to admit

they dream of thought controlling

& murder there's a few

who dream of the day they could

*

we do not agree on everything

my partner and i 

we do not agree on everything

that is why we are together

one of my associates 

tells his girlfriend, "i don't care"

when it comes to how she feels

(how do you own 

anything from another?

so he tells her)

"i don't care" could work for some

it could be just the right thing

for some people but

i told him i'd heard that love is an action 

now that we were comparing

philosophies 

but in then end he is right --

i don't care, we don't care about 

anything at all 

there's this primeval nature

an infinite view

of time and space

wherein we do not achieve

but instead abide

never separate

but until i get 

into vastness of clarity 

that has no ending

i am in a relationship

i can offer my sympathies

if it seems to help

i know we can't do anything

for anybody 

but i still want to

i'll always be this way

giving to another is a hard habit

to break 

and somewhere in there

is a path 

--

for Deborah

snow crosses an american flag

snow crosses an american flag

as the wind blows and the sky

is like a map of all the conquering

done in the name of a young nation

every high and low place every broad

plain or stabbing river flag furling

and unfurling in victory over forgetting

all the people shoveled into the earth

or gathered together and burned 

but then a flag is just a flag and the

blowing wind suggests nothing as

the flakes of snow and hail make the flag

look big and stand out against a turgid

rolling screen of clouds as we make new

friends and learn to see and speak parts of

new languages which suggests 

everything possible before all of us 

every one

more flurries across the front of a

flowing and wending american flag

we are all children sprung from disaster 

crossing a great map in our minds which

constantly is changing and extending

giving everything any thing you'd wish to see

hope victory loss anger commitment

punishment or imagination a day 

every day or no day at all let us have

the courage to know and be faithful 

towards each other

_

during the day / i watch the clouds

during the day

i watch the clouds

at night

i listen to the

pine tree

blowing in the wind

in the backyard

>

i imagine

it tells me

of every rising

and setting

sun moon and

star it ever

felt and how

i am so young

and how

i will be

gone so quick

>

scampering

some more

memorable

than others

>

so now

for my tree

i give it

a fine bed of

needles for

the snow

to fall on

as if

i could

keep it

warm

>

do trees

actually feel

or think?

i ask

the sky

>

no reply

yet but

the magnificence

of every

thing i see

hints

—

CM Evans

help me break my / patterns / they blind / me

help me break my 

patterns

they blind

me

the way

i decide how

to place

a line

snow reported

to be 1.7 inches

in this

afternoon

as i struggle

to find my

feet today

in my

profession

instead i

look up Billy 

Collins

who has never

written a

poem i 

did not 

like

then i wonder

how someone

like this

could

exist

and do they

ever mean to

get their feet 

in the

day

yet go looking

for other 

things

and billy collins

knows where

wild 

birds 

fly

and why a

beautiful 

woman

sighs 

he'd know the 

signaling of 

something 

secret

and precious

the message

in a 

trembling 

sustained 

string

or where 

the highest

star in 

the night

winks towards

all the while

i doodled here

in my brain 

writing poems

like a shopping

list or a 

description of

being lost 

but here is

something to

hope for

now

here is 

where

i have 

reached

soon will

endlessly 

be falling 

beautiful 

snow

beautiful 

snow

i have nothing to give/ yet here in what i am offering

i have nothing to give

yet here in what i am offering

could convince you to not

become what i decided to be

i am a unit of estimation

worthless for measuring anything 

except for the imaginative

and all of that is endless

may all of us 

become complete 

in the recognition

of our own folly

then spurred on

to offer even more

*

CM Evans

Poem - i read that it takes a raindrop/ seven minutes to fall from the sky to the ground

i read that it takes a raindrop

seven minutes to fall from the sky to the ground

and during that time any of us

can live lifetimes of wonder worry dreams or ideas

until the raindrop splashes us 

and if it is one single big drop it could put us into the now

where you stop with a sense of shock

even wonder free of all this mental rummaging

and you look up at the greatness of the sky 

feeling a sense of freedom and even a strange exaltation

+

i do not remember anything properly

i do not remember anything properly
because i viewed the whole world and every person
as magical

so i have a pageant in my mind 

life like a float in a parade full of amazing beings 

astounding scenery

my seeing started out as totally sane

then later i was forced to affect it with a bit of courage

but later it became as real 

there is something holy in persistence

especially with delightful aims to disarm and brighten

every dark corner

possibly god or whomever 

smiles here because i will do the good work no matter what

they may brush me with a fingertip

or handsome is as handsome does

and those who devotedly love for love's sake take on an aspect

from the glory of their own heart

__

angels stung / demons promoted

angels stung
demons promoted
finding out 
their next assignment
is to be angels

_

help me

help me
i'm falling
through lists
crème cheese
cat food
salad
onions
soup

__

wander the furrowed fields of words

wander the furrowed field of words

the farmer is the mind going along

through memories or recollections

all of them invented in one way or the other

then bound to the exertion of the task 

just like bull bound to the yoke and metal blade 

dreaming thoughts and earth both ripped and flipped

showing the other side then following 

of a filling and then gathering then burning 

the ground will be gone over again

trodden torn open then planted anew

real and imagined seasons overhead underneath

quickening phases of life and death 

more strain more images and imagining 

lines like furrows cut on the page 

and then a rest when the hands rest

sigh be still and take it in observe all around

like any tiller will do from time to time

see how it never changes from a point of view

but freedom is at here plowed or not

and the earth lays so serene uncut

if only we could be more like ponds

steams rivers lakes or the sky

so thinking goes 

---

CM Evans

i dine with god and goddesses

i dine with gods and goddesses 
way above my paygrade

in my dreams

it is so absurd to see

they accept me 

*

everytime i have the dream

 everytime i have the dream

i can't remember 

and i dream it another time

i always say 'geeze it is good

to be back in this dream! one of 

the best dreams of all time,

now that i remember i remember

it.' and i'm sure after this i

take off my coat look around and

sigh 

___

for 2021

12.31.21

in the sparkling night

in the sparkling night

there are places to land

we work on a puzzle of

'the dream' by rousseau

we might watch the festivities

faraway in nyc or vegas

but we don't because

you are and i here and

this is where it is turkey

stiches and staples

peanut butter dog treats

*

it isn't good to wait

it isn't good to wait
but i do 

it is my default 

spiritual practice

or lack of any

proper practice

so i'll rouse myself

goad myself

to appear 

otherwise

and sometimes

i am different

and i am

true

the universe

has a great 

sense of

humor

and will work 

with me

and with 

whatever

i think

__

the night sky is not out of hand

the night sky is not out of hand

the stars are not out of hand

the moon is not out of hand

the bare trees are not out of hand

the snowy rooftops are not out of hand

nor the warm houses

nor the bright kitchens

nor the leaking washer

nor the clogged drain

8

sensible dreams

sensible dreams

sensible answers

don't play out 

in sensible life

but why is this

there are so 

many dreams

and so many

dream answers
for sensible life

_

this day

this day

the only place

it is marred

is where we step

or think

+

in my lies / like soft leaves

in my lies 

like soft leaves

sometimes a truth

like a thorn 

draws blood

because this

is how cowards

tell the truth

*

1,000 times in a row

it is a longer journey
with one day to go

an extra day

the flight delayed

now instead of 

4 hours it will be 8

flying on new years

eve getting in late

but home is home

and the heart 

flys on the way

is there and back 

1,000 times in a row

with every imagining

with every thing

that you missed

*

brother and sister / they fight the cats

brother and sister

they fight the cats

over any perch 

the female is

the little one

so gets muscled

out of a sunny spot

i try to play solomon

or god by intervening

but instead cause

unending confusion

and alarm

*

all is un evident and subject to change

all is un evident and subject to change

but here is the end of a rope

you can pull if you want

i saw william blake last night

i saw william blake last night
pushing a baby carriage with mao tse tung in it

i was on the other side of the street
but i waved

they waved back

*

when were we shown

when were we shown

the door to the world of dreams was closed

like the doors of many a church

or other a sacred place of worship 

so what a holy thing to dream

the land of dreams 

all are welcome 

and none denied

*

making shadow art

making shadow art

out of broken shards of metal

the artist forms something that looks soft

when seen as a silhouette or through a tunnel

so are we to god

*

a model day to learn

a model day to learn

how to be good and kind

even if you might need

a new washer 

you opened it up

without breaking it

and looked inside

shone a light 

there's a place

dark emerald green

where the water

has dropped dropped

drip

drip

*

every little thing cannot be surpassed

every little thing cannot be surpassed

especially the eyes that you could swim in 

for 10,000 years

*

they sell false memorabilia

they sell false memorabilia

but i am false too so for me it is real

*

do you know what you mean

do you know what you mean

steady and clear because i don't

the bright side of me i show is show

in reality i'm more dark and varied

but you know and there's the struggle

aiming to be less of the past 

and of the automatic drabness

that formed up out of indifference or fear

or a reaction to cruelness within and without

is it really possible to be something new

a surprising and delightful creature

as truthful as disarming and joyous sharing

borne from the disaster of burning and breaking

lies failure and striving against false imagination

well here we are and it can be so it can be true

i'm making my way by being here with you

doing very ordinary and occasional extraordinary things

i catch you throw or i juggle and you hold

i sing you dance we find the lost wallet or pants

here we are so it can be true we transform then it is evident

neither of us required a clash or a struggle

we are painlessly bright and absolutely undimmed

shadows and murmurs just the passing of conditions

behind all this was and still is and always will be

the keenest clarity the finest light the clearest sight absolutely

__

the day supporting us

because the day is bright
it is cold 

son and daughter visiting

so is the freeze

more bright days ahead

steady and frigid

they fly back tomorrow

to a warmer climate

i notice every moment 

is precious and if i try

to eke out more meaning

time just goes quicker

we're sitting here

in the living room

still slightly askew

from christmas 

bits of wrapping paper

ribbon under cushions

a stray gift or

memento on the floor

i feel like never

cleaning up these poofs

when these were here

my kids were here

but then i do clean up

order is swift and silent

when my hands are still

the wood floors are mute

kids bags packed

eyes look toward the door

i give them a good smile

see you next time

the day supporting us all
never stops 

brighter brighter and

even colder

the day supporting us 

never stops 

*

there's small flakes flying

there's small flakes flying

the dog won't go pee

because she doesn't like the cold

so i carve out a place

where you can see the grass

the small dog goes for a long time

looking at me gratefully 

*

i take snow off the roof

i take snow off the roof

rake it off

there's a place where

ice can build up 

when i go take snow 

off the garage 

my neighbor says

there's no need

i reply see how 

the roof sags

even without snow

it sags 

my neighbor says

they made the garage cheap

just like everything

back in those days

and so i nod and agree

but take snow off the garage

because it would be strange

to quit over what he thinks

__

there's a hardness in your eye / i wish you would avoid

there's a hardness in your eye

i wish you would avoid

or i think you should turn from 

but who am i to comment on what

might be needed or expedient

to get through a series of days 

i've done it too walked down long halls

or on streets that i didn't want to know

waiting hoping and saying it will change

and everything changes nothing is fixed

where we are now is evolving building up

or seeming to fall down and go but actually neither

we are like water in water mixing

or like breathless the stars that never shirk

consoled by siddhis or some kind of grace 

though their abundance 

seems impossible or exotic

i have faith you and i will find it too

---

i am going up

i am going up

i am going down

whatever i choose 

to say

--

12/22/21

each day goes faster and faster

each day goes faster and faster

with all the snow and frost

i am the dog at the door 

not wanting to go out 

i am the street and the plow

i am every family worry 

every magic story

every unexpected beautiful 

christmas tree

--

other parts of the soul

other parts of the soul

expressed through a poem

some writing is sparked off it 

other writings are fragments of  

soul especially crazed and textured

when broken 

a shower of stars 

unending noise

red gold purple sunset

--

he waits for the dog

he waits for the dog

the dog is sleeping

on an old towel in the kitchen

cat still waits for the dog

staring from the bedroom 

as if something would happen

but the dog is lonely

and doesn't care 

waiting for people 

to come home

----

the trace of wind

the trace of wind 

blowing just a bit of snow

like a veil over the yard

rooftop to ground 

where tracks show

the rabbits live

where i piled logs

and branches 

pine needles

on top for a snug winter home

__

SLP

12.19.21

the well

the well

is my mind

and it is empty

even though

i kept

looking into it

expecting to find

something

other than

mind

or

no mind

stop behold now

stop behold now

the snow falls like

that in a snow globe

tires and feet carve paths

below in white slush

every cut and mark 

indifferent like to 

the snow globe snow

or the mind we live in 

all being pure 

and no rushing about

will deny or improve it

__

CM Evans

i go to the dentist

i go to the dentist

he puts a small table and chair on my tooth

then he puts on a small table cloth

a plate and spoon and fork and knife

he serves a small roast

with all the fixings

with a miniature candelabra and candles

the dessert will be just a bit late

but the micro baked buns are on time

they smell good

don't bite down he says

_

all of my nonsense

a we're all glad to be here

but please get on with it 

all of my nonsense

is homemade

always it is 

freshly done

*

there is a promise of snow

there is a promise of snow

falling even falling full 

erasing all our coded thoughts

by covering completely 

all barriers and slights

bare trees will stand taller

darker than the sky while

a wind softly blowing crystals

touching a mouse or rabbit

as they navigate the night

then fall more snowflakes 

fall more until even the first tracks

are gone but for some faint marks

even later this too gone mute

until day makes its mark 

*

our village priest

our village priest hated us

so humble we appeared in our

rough sunday dress 

we like sheep 

while he prowled invested

in a kind of power and pride

thundering sermons on us

he'd spit almost on the book

looking up at heaven past the roof

pleading almost then back down

observing us made of mud

chapped hands shy faces

he had a remarkable friendship 

with widowed madame elle

she gave so much to the church

prim and proper even grand

everyone gratified (especially he) of their 

association and prestige

and what about the whisperings

ms. champigneul heard raised voices

at four o'clock in the morning 

in the countesses private rooms 

but then the old housekeeper 

sickly was suddenly ill and died

no more was said 

later our village priest

had traces of white in his hair

the color of poison 

he sat in the carriage

on a bright winter's day

after coming back from the city

after coming back from the bishop

and visiting a brothel

he admired the churches' 

gleaming 

tall white spire

on the edge of consciousness/ each night fleets of ships are sighted

on the edge of consciousness

each night fleets of ships are sighted

galleons clippers carracks triremes

all going well on courses

they are golden bejeweled and as varied as birds

each night you board one

sail and sail 'til morning 

how many islands have you seen

storms you've braved and pashas and kings

and all their courts dined with and amazed 

with the stories of your voyages you cannot remember by day?

*

i've been accused of speaking in riddles

i've been accused of speaking in riddles

but magic headstones or bobbin conquistadores

waving cosmic forests of emerging fortune speckled with chairs

and floor to celling luxurious fabrics pleated by 

trombone hands

quicksilver sunsets

all fit in if you're willing to trade a dread sensibility 

you say you'll never get past or over 

*

even in ordinary times

even in ordinary times

you can be ordinary

venus is rising

the cat is hiding 

visiting dignitaries

land on a beach in your mind

they bring out

their gifts designed to amaze

and also record 

this splendid moment 

*

i had a dream of curating an exhibition

i had a dream of curating an exhibition
of ground burrowing porpoises
from apha centauri

they were lively and excited

to see the planet earth 

for the first time

*

but never far

graves are perfect

so are tears and bad weather

poems should never rhyme

but might but life can or won't

i have this lousy mind

while here in this restaurant 

you didn't expect to serve

the best food but suddenly 

we are enjoying ourselves

when before it was impossible

so admit you have no idea

what is going on 

admire the perfection

of 1000 old dusty puppets 

seeming useless

absolutely worthless

but never far from playing

just like before

and getting a laugh

in the production we are in 

we don't know the title

or what act it is 

it is a drama comedy 

opera roller-derby fable

with just enough darkness

just enough light

now i am saying

to the sky 

thank you 

*

thanksgiving

2021

sometimes is it like/ all you can do

sometimes is it like
all you can do 

doing your tasks

say a chore

like laundry and

you are almost done

but you can't find a

special shirt and pants 

the ones you want 

to wear tomorrow

and when you are

folding the clothes

you see you are

wearing them 

---

every leaf and stone

every leaf and stone

blades of grass

covered in some snow

so you look up

you look all around

the tracks we make

heaven and earth

grass leaves rocks

snow we are borne

it bears us truly 

some cats walk in the snow

some cats walk in the snow

most cats won't

it depends on what the cat knows

__

poem for a bat

every day 

i am more bat

until one day 

i am not bat

*

no snow yet but plenty of chances

no snow yet but plenty of chances

yesterday the wind blowing strongly 

the clouds above like gray furrows

leaves being torn off and speeding 

stopping then flying more like small birds

you duck a little bit if you are out walking 

same weather for late fall and also early spring

but when facing colder months my soul

for some reason braces and takes courage

*

at the end of dusk

at the end of dusk 

red undersides of clouds

almost vermillion

and the sun's gone

black space seeming to hold

up the clouds 

and then rest them

on the horizon

like a curtain going down 

*

clogged sink / it doesn't mean much

clogged sink

it doesn't mean much 

other than fixing it 

but in the soap opera

with it playing a role

that's laughable and what

selfishness is made of

the chimney sweep

comes on tuesday

*

 

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