Poem - To the New Spring Bride and Groom

we the couple after the rain
outside we walk
in the sweet petrichor
coffees-to-go snugly
zarfed

in the park a spot
of chanking offsets
the scroop of a bridal gown
for a picture w/ groom
backward armsayes*

but the knot is tied
and fingers are ringed
with the slimmest gold
glabellas (or not) to come
i wish them well

the woman sports a feat**
and the man takes badinage
but no roorback imminent

this union as sublime and
toylike as a nef
yet neither have taken to it lightly

and both are bold yet shy
brave yet hesitant
they will go home tonight
together
alone for the first time


-------

* armholes
** a loose lock of hair

Easter Afternoon Gypsy Proverb Dreams

I take a nap on Easter afternoon, and right before I'm all the way awake, I'm dreaming about 'gypsy proverbs' while looking at a grainy black & white television image of the tarmac of an airport somewhere in the former Soviet Union. A husky voice, with a strong accent says:

"A man will be known of how lovely he is to women, by the number of dogs they have given him as gifts of appreciation."

Poem - All of This

at the circus i burned
the apple cart

i kicked apples
in people's faces

i broke all the rules
and i missed the cart

the circus left without me
as i slept

i woke to empty streets
and i wept

i wandered interlocking fields
like vincent van gogh

at night a million stars
looked on silently

god should have admired
my bravado

but there is no escape
even in the attempt of escaping

(To hear the audio of this poem, click here.)

Poem - Colonel Whisper

shhhh shhhhhhhhhh
it is my friend colonel whisper
steely eye
no salute required

he stalks in and sums up
the clasp with one
imperious glance of 'not in charge
but should be'


-------

To ______________ __________
From ____________ ____________

Poem - Circling

serenaded by vivaldi
and glenn gould fugues

he lives on tomatoes
green tea and broccoli

and what he really wants
while meditating

is knowing how to live
without poverty of imagination

like being more than
and educated hamster cage

like entering the
human family

or a girlfriend w/ motorcycle
& coffee

*

alas he reads and dreams
of mystical emergencies

not being roused by phone
email or chat

Poem - Poem to Cat

the cat does not sing
he does not bark

he lays where
the cat nip was poured

,


he looks at me
with amber eyes

and waits for me
to stop typing


,


i ask him a question
but he still looks

there is absolute
looking here


----

10.29 AM
4.12.11

(For an audio recording of this poem, click here.)

Poem - Nap for Lunch

for lunch
i take a nap

i dream
i am a sailor
from the 1600s
on jeopardy
about to answer
a tricky question
from god almighty
about the nature
of the universe
while the set
is on fire &
the host of the show
converts to
a cannibalistic
sect of a cargo-
cult

i wake up
and i am not
amused

i check my
computer

it says i am
disconnected
so i re-
connect

Poem - In My Backyard in Escondido

torrid thoughts
and weeds run amok
all have their place
and naturally grow

each variety
run sinewy vines
and fine roots run deep
being patently buried

but the weed
is just a weed while
resentments are
ideas gone to seed

i'll grow trees or
a jungle in my mind
where well tended gardens
are jewels of the forest

(To listen to the audio of this, click here.)

Poetry - The Slug

at the end of a trail
to a hard black dart
baking in the sun

i have enough snot
for 10,000 slugs
i give him some

the spit and phlegm
a torrid melange of spice
pollen bacteria and enzymes
tobacco and oils

i watch and wait like god does

i look closely

i am too late
he is dead

Fun With Telegraphy: Poem - all is before 1st light

I've been taking a lot of heat from my freinds practicing Telegraphy that I have not been writing much material for Morse Code. So here is a poem I like that I've translated. Keep coming Back!

.. .----. ...- . -... . . -. - .- -.- .. -. --. .- .-.. --- - --- ..-. .... . .- - ..-. .-. --- -- -- -.-- ..-. .-. . .. -. -.. ... .--. .-. .- -.-. - .. -.-. .. -. --. - . .-.. . --. .-. .- .--. .... -.-- - .... .- - .. .... .- ...- . -. --- - -... . . -. .-- .-. .. - .. -. --. -- ..- -.-. .... -- .- - . .-. .. .- .-.. ..-. --- .-. -- --- .-. ... . -.-. --- -.. . .-.-.- ... --- .... . .-. . .. ... .- .--. --- . -- .. .-.. .. -.- . - .... .- - .. .----. ...- . - .-. .- -. ... .-.. .- - . -.. .-.-.- -.- . . .--. -.-. --- -- .. -. --. -... .- -.-. -.-

.--. --- . -- -....- .- .-.. .-.. .. ... -... . ..-. --- .-. . .---- ... - .-.. .. --. .... - -- .. ... - .... .- -. --. .. -. --. .-.. --- .-- -... .-.. ..- . --- ...- . .-. - .... . -... .- -.-. -.- -... .- -.-- --..-- .-.. .. --. .... - ... - .-- .. -. -.- .-.. . -.. ..-. .-. --- -- .- ..-. .- .-. --- ..-. ..-. -... .- .-. --. . --- ...- . .-. ... .. .-.. ...- . .-. .-- .- - . .-. .- .-.. .-.. .. ... -... . ..-. --- .-. . .---- ... - .-.. .. --. .... - ---... - .... . -... .- .-. --. . .-- .- ... -... .-.. .- -.-. -.- .- -. -.. --.- ..- . ... - .. --- -. ... -.. .. . -.. .- .-- .- -.-- --..-- - .... --- ..- --. .... - ... -.-. .- ..- --. .... - --- ..-. ..-. --. ..- .- .-. -.. .-- . .-. . .- -. -. .. .... .. .-.. .- - . -..

**

‎‎POEM - ALL IS BEFORE 1ST LIGHT MIST HANGING LOW BLUE OVER THE BACK BAY, LIGHTS TWINKLED FROM A FAR OFF BARGE OVER SILVER WATER ALL IS BEFORE 1ST LIGHT: THE BARGE WAS BLACK AND QUESTIONS DIED AWAY,THOUGHTS CAUGHT OFF GUARD WERE ANNIHILATED

Poem - A Poem for Robert

as a young go-getter
killing myself for a hi-tech firm
i boarded at his house
in the upstairs room

he wrote constantly
at the desk in the living room
his poetry and his habit
of writing was soothing

it was strange to drop by
years later in a driving rain
and see the house dark
with an empty front room

like me he had moved on
and left no forwarding address
because few cared or bothered
and i know how that feels

we think we know which way
the wind will blow
or how seasons roll out
inevitable change

or at least i thought i did
when i thought a lot
with one opened beer after another
watching him from the kitchen

i remember a mellow light
surrounding me as i washed
my mismatched dishes
as his typewriter punched the page

and later as a drunk
that kind of light eluded me
though the dishes matched
in a distant perfect house

(To hear the audio recording of this poem, click here.)

Poem - there is enough

there is enough
life to quell
this fiery temper

enough solitude
to delude me
into thinking

time enough to
destroy every
beloved toy

..

if i rouse i
may find
nothing

i may find a
lost sparrow or
phoenix

there may be
only a flash
or cold ashes

..

i believe
there is
enough

leave the
comfortable
room

& the
panoramic
window

----

As always, for Latif

Poem - Beautiful Day

i worry sometimes when i'm writing
if the reader will get it

thinking this way means
i don't understand a damn thing

but i've been taught now
to stop investing in this

today is a beautiful blue day
and i'll stop considering the ruin of it

Poem - how wise i am to be this way

i hide a resentment in a complement

i forget water is boiling on the stove
till it is almost all bubbled away

i burn my index finger on
the pot on the stove

how wise i am to be this way

---

April 1

Poem - Night Swimming

midnight on fine summer nights i would secretly drink
& then skinny dip in the pool as if i was stealing from someone

but it was my pool in my silent dark backyard
under a million stars that were fixed and stared down at my white body
with a bit of that regrettable farmer's tan

i'd hear the water quietly moving as i moved
lapping on the aquamarine colored tiles
and i'd look up at the sky and see the night in the water
my shoulder would nudge the pole star out of the way for a ripple

i'd be afraid of the luminous bottom near the deep end
but then dive down to it through the blindness

i'd go to the bottom of the bottom to touch the cold surface
though fear was never solved nor would go away

------

For Stephanie

Poem - Together

as if we could keep the legs
by spreading them or the pages
by reading them

all this reaching and desire
like trying to save a day you loved
so you could have it anytime

there's no keeping
but don't be discouraged
we're together right now sitting here

the kitchen is bright and dishes
done

Poem - Guilty

not committing the sin of ingratitude
nor of arrogance

but guilty as always
of whatever i forgot by accident
or what i denied

------

For Billy Collins

Poem - The Angel of Constantanople

"One of the most magnificent shrines ever known (is) the old Constantinople Cathedral...restored by the Emperor Justinian in 568, after the plan, says tradition, of an angel who came to that monarch in a dream.

The angel is stated to have appeared a second time....to a boy who was guarding the tools of the masons, and ordered him to bring the workmen immediately, in order to hasten the building. As the boy refused, the gleaming (angel) swore by the Wisdom, i.e., by the Word of God, that he would not depart until the boy returned...

The emperor...in order that he might for ever keep his word as guardian of the temple, sent away the boy, laden with presents, to pass the rest of his life in the Cyclades..."

http://www.jjkent.com/articles/stones-constantinople-cathedral.htm


i have thought him so often
unlike the angel on a blue morning
who appeared in shining white
before a frightened boy
and inquired for the master mason
to hasten the raising of the sanctuary
then waited forever -- i would not remain

god is so much more wiser
and compassionate to me
this force that blesses all space with
innumerable beautiful things
and unraveled reflective riddles
that seem meaningless unless
all is accepted with the grace that made it

Poem - Suburban Poem

it is so quiet
i can hear the ringing in my ears
metallic shore of a tinfoil sea

it is so still
the houses in the street are bizarre
facades made of sugary marzipan

they live in their frosting
i live in mine while the gingerbread foundations
are eaten secretly by the tide

the only things that intrude
are cars and birds because people
do not equate on sidewalks of sugar

but let me not complain
of the places i choose to go and have built
however fantastic & unreal they become

-----

Sunset Heights
Escondido

Poem - Serenade

we sat by a screen of moonlit baffled trees
a serenade of phone-tones
not crickets called though the night

as if playing hide and seek
screens glowed and were extinguished
the conductor was late due to traffic

the only thing that seemed real
were your eyes that found mine
not in a person but in a silhouette

the stage footlights became brighter
as the celebrated man arrived & silently waved
then the music began normally

---

Hollywood
2011