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