Open the crate but don't break the glass

Open the crate but don't break the glass

The form is ancient and sleeps 

A jewel like thing in the blessed amphora

If loosed will rise and corrupt the living

**

Move the vat over the hot fire

Move the vat over the hot fire

And sit by me where we can praise

Having meat and gristle for this day

Trapped by snows we eat our dead

**

Thieves who rob friends deserve jail

Thieves who rob friends deserve jail
But for love is the wished for exception
That I robbed you in the name of love
Gives us betrayal turned into poetry 

**

- for Leonard Cohen

"Well I see you there, with the rose in your teeth." -- The Famous Blue Raincoat

 as if we'd never notice

the day he stopped 

coming to work 

a trade a sacrifice 

between divisions

needed you'll see

he's without a job

because someone

thought it was good

those still employed

go on dealing working

waiting for a turn 

he's a man without a job

HR tried to keep it secret

as if we'd never notice

the day he stopped 

coming to work 

they say it is for a reason

a trade a sacrifice 

between divisions

needed you'll see

but it is a lie

he's a man without a job

because someone

thought it was good

long or short

long or short

the road is long 

if i have no courage

they asked me

what is the opposite of faith

i said faithlessness

*

dreading going back to work

why dread it when one knows how to do it 

it might be in the knowing 

77

snow trailing flakes that i shoveled twice

snow trailing flakes that i shoveled twice

it falls now with gusts of wind over snow i moved

a thing to see your work so gracefully undone

seems better in life to leave things undisturbed

99

facing the day with notes

facing the day with notes

  go store

done

  ret lib books

done

  everything is going to be alright

thank you

..

The Boy Was There When The Sun Rose

The boy was there when the sun rose, in the first place the rays touched when it rose over the tiny town. Before his drunken father left, he would tell his son about the field at the very edge of town, where no one would go to ... and how in that field the sun's cotton candy would appear in the dew every morning. The boy knew it was a fantastic story, like all the others. Though he knew his fathers stories were all lies, they also were irresistible stories, full of whim and amazing happenings, miracles, angels, and unforgettable details. His father had that about him -- a flash, like lightening, laugher, mysteries revealed. The boy loved and hated his father, but above all he missed this unreliable love. A presence like a force of nature, like a storm, then gone. Or at any time, could suddenly reappear dirty, laughing, full of tales. So the boy brought a book with him, and a pencil, and he would write his own stories in the field at dawn, and he promised he would someday publish them, with a dedication to his father. 

***

shhh! this is a quiet place and we are all reflections

shhh! this is a quiet place and we are all reflections

suspended over time that is like a night table 

so starry 

so deep

tribute to thundering creaking of subway trains

that grew like western roses on boot hill

to order and disorder 

peace and fury 

**

everything that can be summed up about me is lost

everything that can be summed up about me is lost

and when everything about you is lost 

it ain't such a bad thing 

moonbeams and sunshine go right through 

the stuff that used to cast shadows or block 

gone any direction  

you can see over around and through if you look

forward into the past and back into the future

but you can't hold onto anything now

**

The Fish Twisted and Turned on the Bent Hook

The fish twisted and turned on the bent hook. He crouched on the edge of the river, swore he would never eat meat, made the oath, but he was starving. It had taken him 28 days to find the wire, to sharpen it on one end, to purloin enough string to have a fishing line. He arose before dawn, walked with clasped hands, meditated at daybreak, noon, dusk. He was the epitome outwardly of humbleness, or service. The mist rose off the water, the only disturbance were ripples from the struggling. As he drew it in, he even felt a pang of deep regret for the poor fish, for all beings snared in suffering in this whole world. 

When he had the fish (so pitiful wet cold and alive!) something in him made him let it go. Then the abbot sat down beside him.

**

Sickness Kept Him Home the Third Week

Sickness kept him home the third week, but it was no more than what he imagined himself to be afflicted with. His heath was as good as it had ever been, he had no physical ailments. 

He'd watch the sky from the tallest window in the house. The clouds were marching to the east, dizzyingly high. He would hear the watch ticking on his arm, the second hand getting louder on the watch side as it approached, then receded to the other side of the dial. 

Later he was at the beach, looking for shells. He saw Candice there. 

"I saw your daughter the other day." she said.

He exchanged small talk and then called his daughter.

They had brunch at a favorite restaurant. 

"Dad, I am glad that you called." 

He forgot everything he idly worried about. He was glad too.

For some reason the lonely halls and rooms of his mind where smaller, as she smiled. 

As he drove home, he hummed a tune and wrote it down when he arrived home. The darkness did not oppress him, though he turned on the lights. Then he turned them off quickly, and saw the moon going up into the sky from the tallest window in the house.

He picked up the instrument, he played a violin solo to the moon. 

A deer with her fawn heard the violin music, and came down the hillside, waited patiently for him to finish. It knew when he noticed, he would feed them carrots.

...

The Ship was Torn Apart on the Sharp Reef

The ship was torn apart on the sharp reef. Was it ironic that it was my son's toy ship, a model of the sloop we were sailing in, dashed to pieces seconds before the full-sized boat followed it onto the coral? The churning surf looked like milk or masses of cream, the rending of the side like gunshots as the wood gave. I saw splinters shooting through the torn sails. The wheel shuddered then started spinning as if down a hill. All was falling sliding, grinding, and going up or apart. Off aways was the life raft, with my son, daughters and wife ... getting farther and father away. 

When I awoke, an orchid rested on a spotless side table, a glass of water, some gauze. A Japanese doctor. I was trussed up in a body cast. 

"Did they make it?" I asked the Japanese doctor. "Did they get away?"

He couldn't speak English, didn't understand. 

---

A King Ruled the State in the Early Days

A king ruled the state in the early days, and he was hated for it, even though his subjects expected him to be the ruler. They also wanted their own laws, and their own customs of non-royal rule. The king did his best to be a figurehead, but his subjects decided to throw him in prison. 

Prison was actually better than living in the dilapidated castle that the commoners expected the ruler to live in. The king was quite happy, but eventually important people in the new government felt guilty on how they were treating the king, so the Chancellor and his cabinet offered to let him go into exile. 

The king was sad, and moved to a small country far away from the land. There he became an excellent hat maker, and interior designer. The king really didn't have any other skills other than this. Later, when the king retired from his second career, and ran a little B&B by the mountainside, he'd wonder how his little country was getting along. 

One day, he was surprised to see the Chancellor and half the cabinet coming down the road. They look very tired from traveling. Once they recognized the king, they were very surprised. 

"Tell me how it goes in that beautiful little land."

"Wrought with famine, and pillage."

"How so?"

"We could not agree, after you left, and so we quarreled and fought with our neighbors, and with our own factions."

"Terrible news."

"You should go back, the people would have you rule again."

"A milliner, decorator, and inn-keeper?"

"We will advocate for your return."

The king thought carefully, and saw how the Chancellor and his cabinet were sincere. The king made the journey back to his land.

Once back in power, the people rejoiced. The king had the Chancellor drawn and quartered, head cut off and put on a pike, with all the rest of the cabinet. The old motto of the king's royal line was PRO PATRIA, but motto of the royal house restored, VAE VICTIS, was cut deeply over the gates of the newly improved castle, with the royal emblem of a smartly hatted knight crushing a serpent. 

...

i look for the cat

i look for the cat
he is on the roof

looking down at me

quite surprised

and i am surprised too

seeing his face 

over the gutter

then he goes back 

down into the yard

later i let him in

ask what did you see

leaves breeze

twigs 

untouchable

squirrels

the dance of the soul

the dance of the soul
incomplete

always incomplete

things that are done

are dead or false

this place that we are

this place that we are

it might be the place

of all places places

the place place 

white snow 

white frost 

glittering world

like spun sugar

Vikings

 

CM Evans

2020

Acrylic on Canvas, Pen, Cardboard, Oil Pastel

24 x 24

Walking Around the Garden With Mr. Miro

 

CM Evans

2019

Acrylic on Canvas, Putty Knife

22 x 28

Remembering How Every Detail Is So Real And Every Flower Is Like A Mountain And Bees Are Like Eagles

CM Evans

2020

Acrylic and Pen on Canvas

36 x 48

this joyful moment
clear and unbridled
the start of winter

in the joyful moment

by abandoning all my heart's plans

of admiring this very moment

---

Florida St South

love is love

love is love
and people have been
embracing it 
and destroying it 
for all time

you can have love
be positive
or horrible or
weak and indifferent

you make love
into whatever 
or however 
you
want to experience it
as 

because love
is universal 
and eternal 

so how
would you 
like to 
experience 
love?
choose.

10-19-20

 if you put me in charge of everything 

you will be disappointed

do you want to be disappointed

Poem - all the curse words

all the curse words

for this year

used up 

but i was the cause

to start with 

what a savage

savage world view

to feel a curse 

even once 

would work

>>>

Poem - the skies promise stars

the skies promise stars

we get plenty of them 

how the universe loves us

this autumn night millions

every conceivable path 

your feet touching them 

dipping your toes in

a midnight lake

**

Poem - in the blue bathrobe in the rain

in the blue bathrobe in the rain

up to your elbows in water

trying to get the drain unstuck

at the base of the driveway 

there are some thing you will remember

the weight of the robe soaking wet

seeing the mark above the garage

where you knocked bikes off a rack

***

oh what a charming stream 
passed over by me but not to itself 
i was here or there blocked by thoughts
concerned amazed by silly asides

while stream never moved it just flowed
leaves in it by day rippling stars at night 
through meadows of grass and many copses of trees 

a pleasant scene of a pleasant stream 

the mind conquered and the soul reminded

by the stream that as all our plans are like leaves

that it takes and makes disappear round the bend 

around another bend and so on till all is gone

They mark it DEAD END
But I call it a the start of something new
For at your feet begins a meadow 
Full of tunnels of dew and leaves still green 
And if you go further you find a stream 
Whose waters and shimmering sands
Glint coldly gold and silver specks 
Alive with sleeping fish nature’s body 

Poem - shhh! do not speak

shhh! do not speak

the moment is so delicately poised

like a tiger about to pounce 

like a candle could go out 

==

I dream I am in back my routine job in Heaven, and God has lots of things to say because it is Monday

I dream I am in back my routine job in Heaven, and God has lots of things to say because it is Monday. When I wake up I can't remember what my job is in Heaven, but I dream about it from time-to-time. 

But back to the dream:

"Take a look at all these new fish." says God.

I look at them. 

"I want you to sort them just like the other ones before, OK?"

"Gotcha." I say. 

"You sure you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes sir."

God isn't sure but he's willing to let me do my best.

"I'm going to round up some angels to do some encouraging in Brest by 4 O'Clock."

"That sounds nice."

"Doesn't it? It will be fine. I'll be back when you're done with the fish. We might paint rain this afternoon, so it is nice and silvery."

Before I can reply, God puts on his grey sweater and heads across the cool white room of clouds and out the door full of moonbeams and pillars of sunshine. 

Poem - he stood there in the play area hood up

he stood there in the play area sweatshirt hood up 

dressed in blue and gray and black

watchful and hostile for some reason 

while his wife or girlfriend pushed a little girl in a swing

he kept watching to see if anyone would look at him 

and he'd push an empty child's swing 

next to the swing his child was swinging in back and forth 

sometimes the full swing and the empty swing 

would be swinging at the same time in the 

same direction 

**

Poem - for every threat or every other normal thing

for every threat or every other normal thing

here is this day striven out with dereliction or grace

that converts strain into sudden pleasure and stain into meaning

emotional pleas from trees black bark and yellowing leaves

not so many going now to fall but soon a waterfall of reds and yellows

every street and alley canyons of hue and the mind begotten anew

more days in there with duty or sloth patched or sundered 

whittled down like droplets of ink into a black story of a black night 

or unexpectedly lifted when every angel's plea is detected 

***

Poem - it is foggy but

it is foggy but 

keep walking forward like you know what you are doing

the trail is slick and you are alone as you go you can't go back

but you pretend at the end of the walk there is no sense of loss

go in and boil water 

put away stray groceries and make sure everything is placed 

as if you are on a ship bound for the northwest passage

the sky the ice a milky hue one and the same with the sea

memories like waves 

how you thought it would be impossible to make such a way

to be alone on a path in the fog with children far away

on their own walk and their own voyages you do not take

----

Poem - normal spacing

normal spacing in fall

seen through one window

one room one couch

three paintings

eight pillows two throws

one ottoman one tray

two mugs one glass of water

18 sheets of paper 2 written on one crumpled

eight pieces of mail one post-it

six pens 1 pencil 

two cats one girlfriend

one boyfriend four books

two newspapers

three smart phones

(one that is used as a clock)

----

florida street south

Poem - oh you know, to go on

oh you know, to go on

to write on 

it takes courage and a bit of sut

stu

stupidity or stubbornness

even some humor don't you see

---

robert nye

robert nye

wrote poems about fresh bread tears and the moon's hair

words about singing and bedeviling his wife

as a novelist 

wanted to be remembered as a poet

think of all the vaunted things you want to be remembered for

would it be for silliness

imperfections and tall tales 

or how numbers ideals and guns mowed down people justifiably 

 a

poem 

owed

to whom?

to someone.

everything you see you do not own

everything you see you do not own

if you think you posses it 

it is merely passing though your hands

and you have no hands 

**

we are all not so simple

to be summed up as only 1 thing

but people do this all the time

with personal opinions

**

you are as big as a mountain

you are as small as a flea

all at the same time

in the same way 

---

he's gone/ we are going

he's gone

we are going

we'll all be gone

and it is sad

but we were 

never here

to begin with 

just vibrancy 

elation emptiness

as stable and

continuing as

fireworks and

hammer strokes

sparks and 

stars 

888

i think

i think

someone hopes

their screams will 

cover my whole life

and smother me

which shows

i shouldn't

take seriously

anything 

i can think 

..

where does

invented dread

come from?

from the one

who dreads.

that could be for us too

the tree was over 80 years old

vast with leaves yet fading

it had a broad strong side

on the other a great wound

cracked open

for many years 

weakness spreading

through the branches

a limb yielding from high up

smashed to earth 

so today cut down sawdust

all i can think of is impermanence

also a deep pang of regret

for such a giant beautiful thing 

sighing and swaying

rustling and billowing 

stout sentinel no more

and so one day all of us 

still look closer though

in the grass 

tiny shoots of the same tree

ever revealing new life

that could be for us too

someone i hoped to meet

someone i hoped to meet

i will never meet

but you can always 

write a poem 

how grateful i am 

for everyone i've met

there was nothing ordinary 

ever in anyone 

**

they say this morning garden is impossible

they say this morning garden is impossible

as all should be carefully selected and none possibly overrun the other

but this paradise is a reckless place life making it so 

every living thing excelling striving and billowing with stems and leaves

a riot of colors and charging growing that is as unruly as it is challenging

all notions of good order and what should be placidity out the window

bursting celebrating swaying together reaching up limits narrowness overcome

in the morning of this life were we may be pricked or stung  

we can admire it if we wish and sing this and love 

_____

7.10.20

planet earth

what a fine summers day

all trees have plans

to put roots through

our corpses

*

samsara

one ton of happiness

is very light

one ounce of misery

unbearable

what we think is happiness

or misery 

is interchangeable

weather-vane like mind

--

as your father/ i must say

as your father

i must say

this holy thing

all fathers say

and you know

beforehand what

all fathers say

but for some reason

you still will not

turn off the light

in the room

you just left

-----

Pants

"Put your pants on!" he said to his kids, after 2 PM on a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

"Why?" they asked. 

"BECAUSE I SAID SO!" 

"BUT WHY!?!?" 

"BECAUSE PANTS WERE INVENTED AND YOU SHOULD WEAR THEM AFTER  2 O'CLOCK ON A SATURDAY." 

"OK. We'll wear our swimming suits."

"Fine." he said after thinking about it and deciding it wasn't worth fighting over anymore. 

___ ____

on this june day

on this june day

what do you have to say?

the birds and the trees 

in full force

the squirrels in the yard

faster than the cats 

but nothing quicker

than an unsatisfied mind

and for what

remembering lost games 

where you landed

on boardwalk

*

i let my thoughts come and go

i let my thoughts come and go

i don't stare at my thoughts

that would be rude

_______

Hat Lake

MN

LEW

he had a booming voice

a personality like fireworks 

loud applause or thunder

organizing poetry at the cafe

he built a podium with a light

out of unvarnished wood

the podium was straight and tall

master carpenter

you had to step up onto it

as he ran a tight ship in readings

scrupulously fair about how long

you'd be able to read 

poetry was his ideal and his life

he was as impressive as irritating

gracious as impetuous 

courteous singing brash

and rude vibrant gloating graceful

remembering forgetting but

never for a moment 

regular boring

or ordinary 

"joy was his song and joy so pure

a heart of star by him could steer"

'My father moved through dooms of love'

ee cummings 

Lew Gardner

1931 - 2018

there's poetry that lasts

there's poetry that lasts

too bad we can't hang out forever

get sick of each other's opinions

more than we are now

because there's something intimate

about being annoyed at your thoughts

how i derailed some of your readings

or made you cry 

-----

all night you eat ghosts

everything is normal

though we do feel beat up by sleeping

all that traveling

through billions of places

every fleck and mote of dust

super real and will be there forever 

people 

all night you eat ghosts

in the morning you shit them

*

God on a Bicycle

Out walking in the rain, I see God on a bicycle coming down the road, taking his time. He's a black man, wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt and smoking a cigarette. 

I nod to him politely, as he rides by. 

"Have a great day, my man." says God.

"You too!" I reply. We are both in a good mood. 

God keeps going down the road, I see he has an old cardboard box wrapped in plastic on the back of the bike. God might have a pair of shoes in the box, or a few books. Or a lunch. He rides easy into the storm, as I am walking away from it. 

Later, I know I'll be walking into the wind and rain, when I have to make my way back. 

-----

St Louis Park

Chung Tzu: Phantom Cup & Real Water

Chung Tzu and I are in the backyard, on the deck in the first warm sun of spring. We are facing the alley.

"After all these years, I see." I say.

Chung Tzu looks at me sideways, just past the edge of the newspaper. 

"Truly, I see."

Chung Tzu rustles the newspaper, goes back to reading. 

"I will start to stop trying." 

"AHEM!" says Chung Tzu, as if to the squirrels. "Phantom cup! Real water."

----

South Florida Street

St Louis Park

after several weeks living / working from home

after several weeks living
working from home
i was suddenly furloughed
from reality

i found in this
i was always inexplicable
as far as my yard was concerned
or whatever i could see in the sky



***

now this poem isn't going to be about anything

now this poem isn't going to be about anything
it will be several lines of letters about the same length
except the middle line will be slightly longer



**

a wise man said something once

a wise man said something once
it was probably very inspiring
unless you were stupid

but people i think are stupid
say profound things too



**

"Well, that's not bad." says Chung Tzu, as we are sitting in the basement.

"But it also is too bad you think you think." says Chung Tzu.


------

St Louis Park

not a single cloud is ordinary

not a single cloud is ordinary
they are resplendent
vaunted by the light


yet as a mist brings the rainbow
or we turn to an old favorite game
such is the cloud or a thought



***

i have sunk me

i have sunk me
and i don't mind it

a wreck
three fathoms deep

with cats
swimming above me

saying give
it is 5pm let's eat



__

we alone carry our ends and our beginnings

we alone carry our ends and our beginnings
thank goodness no one else can carry them

this means we are free never chained from the beginning

the molten coils i struggle with through endless nights
is from the light turned in and because i shut my eyes tight

and difficulties of all sizes gave me courage if i let them

we carry our own burden but let me help you if i can
with a kind work or an example in some way how it can be done

look everywhere with me and find it there inside a stone
or in sky mansions full of stars or even in the heavenly fields above these



for Deborah

the morning is so beautiful

the morning is so beautiful
there's nothing left, nothing at all
all is well with this morning

2 years ago you died
it makes sense to hurt
to be happy with such sunshine

- for my father

****

dreams never stop if i can recognize my face in a dream

dreams never stop if i can recognize my face in a dream
then a dream can recognize my face during the day

then we will have met thank goodness thank goodness
in the sky in the earth applauding in the wind that sighs



-----

I was all out of commas.

I was all out of commas.



---

St. Louis Park
4-19-20

today is broken
and yesterday was broken
tomorrow will be broken

but i love each of these anyway
and everyone in them
because that is what love is all about

if i keep caring i might discover
today is not broken nor yesterday
nor tomorrow



3.29.20

when the wind picks up
and i am alone on the way back

my eyes remind me
in what i see of a mustang horse

a running horse in the sky
that can bring my love back to me

3rd day of spring
hearing the tolling of a bell
sounding soft and far away
you can't help but listen

like all of us in seclusion
in a time of plague
whatever you do
that is who you are


*

everything i did and said was deniable
except this what i just wrote



*

they asked me if i would rather be hungry or sad
i told them i would bear any misery on a full stomach
just like everyone else in the world



*

we've come to this moment
for me to lie and say i can play the guitar
and after i've hoisted it and we've taken our pictures
oh my fingers are so tired my wrist so stiff from playing all night





*

not every man is a genius in his own hour
nor a hero in his own house

it is just the way it is if it is
not be formed for the age you live in

so everything you do is off
there is no closing the circle because

you might live with someone or alone
but either way you are a coward

but even cowards strive for better days
some find peace in what seems to be disaster

even courage
even faith


..

"If that is how you recognize it." says Lao Tzu.

"The highest path includes not being recognized for anything." I remark.

"If that is how you recognize it." says Lao Tzu.



-----

St Louis Park

sometimes the gate we go through
is a locked door or a broken promise
the highest path can include
being dismissed or having no recognition

the life filled with disasters
which is perfect
stains spills and breaks
crooked tables and burnt meals
big hugs laughs and tears
immense in love over all
through lies deception and fear
compassion over all

Without a Cloud in the Sky

It is a bright day, just after noon, without a cloud in the sky.

"The sky is not made out of sky." I say to Chung Tzu.

Chung Tzu hums and pets the cat.

I decide to wait a minute.

"The sky is not made out of sky." I say to Lao Tzu.

Lao Tzu looks surprised, but keeps looking out the window at squirrels in the yard.

I wait a little bit more.

"The sky is not made out of sky." I say to Henry Ford.

There is a brief pause.

"What driveling nonsense!" says Henry Ford, looking over the newspaper.


----

Florida Ave South
St Louis Park

Stove Parts Says 'Hold Onto Your Hat!" plus Things in Trees

crow in a tree
punctuation mark
to never ending vastness

I put my pen down.

"Hoo hoo!" says Chung Tzu "Saying there's this or that in the sky. How grand!"

"Hold onto your hat!" says Stove Parts.

So I write:

cow in a tree
punctuation mark
to never ending vastness

"Moo!" says Chung Tzu.

"Now you're just making fun." says Stove Parts.

I write:

clown in a tree
honk honk! honk honk!
honk honk honk!

"Gah ha ha ha!" laughs Chung Tzu, holding his belly, wiping tears from his eyes. "GOOSE!"

"I've had enough of you both!" says Stove Parts, as he leaves.


***

Afternoon
Minnetonka
1.29.20

He's Forgetful Says Chung Tzu

"Hello Mr. Pavarotti." I say in the morning, to Pavarotti.

Pavarotti just stares at me.

"He's forgetful." says Chung Tzu. "The only way he remembers things is when he acts rambunctiously."

Pavarotti jumps up and grabs a can of silly string, and starts covering me with it.

"I remember you now." he says, as the can sprays and sprays.



_____

St Louis Park

i was the sunday night date
last in line and i knew it

after we said goodbye
she sat in her car and texted

she was in contact with the
someone who she really loved

but i understood i needed
to get out even for a sunday date

she didn't matter and i didn't either

Henry Ford Who

"Nobody likes him! Why should they?" says Henry Ford, looking up from the newspaper. "He's a horrible person!"

Chung Tzu hums and looks out the window at bunny tracks in the snow.

"Who is?" I ask.

"Who?" says Henry Ford.

"WHO IS?"

"I don't know!" says Henry Ford.



-----

Florida St
St Louis Park

Leaches and Drinking

I look up from the book I was reading. "Wow! Did you know a leach has a three-jawed mouth, two hearts, two circulatory systems, five pairs of eyes, 32 brains, and 10 stomachs?"

Chung Tzu sits there, to let it all sink in.

"Amazing! And you thought you were special!" says Stove Parts.

***

I meet Broken Pot in a tavern. Broken Pot gets drunk.

"You have the ability to be a drunk, how can you stop drinking?" says Broken Pot.

We walk to the highest hill. It is cold and late, the moon is high above us. The wind blows through us so our teeth chatter.

"By discarding all thinking. By discarding all ideas of good or bad towards drinking."

We walk back to the tavern. By the time we get back, Broken Pot is sober.

peace peace peace peace

i'm sleeping there's no dream
the mind like a flashing light

with the absence of thoughts
and unencumbered from ego

there is peace peace peace peace
in each peace was happily ever after

wakening to a morning with
a quarter inch of new snow



**

did anything else matter / after you saw those few snow flakes

did anything else matter
after you saw those few snow flakes

did you see them
widely scattered and wandering

each one appearing as if

with no purpose
each one with no aim


____

Evening
St Louis Park

Chung Tzu Asks Do You have a Fire in Your Head?

"I can use my negative thinking to out-think my negative thinking!" I exclaim.

"Hmmm. Let me see. What is fire? Can fire burn water?" wonders Chung Tzu, "Can fire burn fire? Or fire burn air? Or earth? Oh my!"

"Fire burns wood!"

"Just like the thoughts seem to burn in your mind. But do you have a fire in your head?" asks Chung Tzu.


-----

1.18.20

bodhicitta shining / like a light on the light shining

bodhicitta shining
like a light on the light shining

scripture or non scripture
each cherished

every action out and in
in and out

coming around in a great circle
in endless circles



***

Chung Tzu: Oh my brother. Don't deceive yourself.

"I'm not entirely certain I ever had that. Or even wanted something like that."

"Oh my brother. Don't deceive yourself." says Chung Tzu coming into the kitchen, from the tiny pantry. "You certainly did."

"Well now it is now stuck in my head. Just like a song. Just like an exception to the rule."

Chung Tzu points to a melting icicle, warming in the sun. "Would you like for me to come up with a nursery rhyme to remember this?"


*****

Winter
Florida Street South

Seven O'Clock

There's a middle-aged black woman ahead in line at the grocery store, when another middle-aged black lady inserts her trolley between me and the checkout clerk.

She waits about 5 seconds before slowly looking my way.

"Oh. I got in front of you." she says. "I'm in your place."

"Yes you did." I say, because it is true. She did cut in front of me. "It is okay. Go ahead, take my place."

She stares at me, seeing if I am high or drunk. Then she looks at me like I have horns growing out of my head.

I don't tell her she could be anyone! A Buddha, and angel, a heavenly being in disguise in a grocery store, cutting in line. Or a middle-aged African American woman. Teaching patience, about letting go, living life as it is. Not needing to fight, or protect your turn in line.

As the line moves slowly, she stares at the woman in front to her. I don't know how God or the Universe works. I don't know why we are tested, or when I am being tested, or when I am not being tested. So I believe it can be at any time, with anyone, and I keep living that way the best I can.

She ignores me until she is checked out, and even after that she keeps her eye on me. I pretend to not notice her. I bag my groceries, and as I walk through the dark slushy parking lot, I hear someone like her in the background behind me, and she could be cursing someone out or spontaneously singing a hymn loudly to Jesus.

It all happens so fast sometime, when I turn and look, it must have been my imagination. Cars keep driving, people are smiling or frowning, at seven o'clock.


-----

Cub
Hopkins at Highway 7

I see Chung Tzu down the street. Happy New Year.

I see Chung Tzu down the street, he has a wet tree branch.

"Happy New Year! I told Joe about you, out in Corcoran. But I saw you over there anyways."

"Uh huh!" says Chung Tzu.

"Do you want an introduction?"

"Hah! HIM? We already got to know each other all summer. He's been introducing ME to YOU."

I give Chung Tzu a deep bow. He nods, and hoists the stick.


***


if you're missing the Tao as soon 
as you stop yearning there it is
don't pity your own selfishness
if you think you can't find it

when you see it to forget yourself
if you're not looking for the Tao
it will surely find you because it is 
mother of ten thousand things 

***

Jan 2020
St Louis Park

The rules for a contented life // The rules for a discontented life

The rules for a contented life

7 everything is connected to everything
6 everyone can do the right things
5 every action and attitude matters
4 the world is full of beauty
3 you know how to trust in others, deep relationships
2 you are the steward of your property
1 you are grateful for what you have
0 life is neither good nor bad
1 what you have is not enough
2 what you do have is under threat and must be protected
3 people can’t be trusted , shallow relationships
4 the world is a horrible place
5 whatever you do is justified
6 bad things must be done
7 nothing matters anyways

The rules for a discontented life

no sounds to express truth

no sounds to express truth
though i did try to find it words
i did try to force it into speech

what a great disservice
to such beautiful truth
but the truth keeps coming back

like the moon over a lake
not having anything to say
a mirror to you and me

the moving water below
so deep so dark so full
containing all we know

silhouettes of the trees
over the ghost of a beach
night creatures hunted or free

stars reflected in the eyes
clear night air with something
will stay but also not remain

you will not tame it
but it will never go away
it will drive you to heartbreak

or to hope

***

eat better

eat better

i drip fried chicken for blood
and have candybar thoughts

by 10:03

i've saved then lost then saved
myself thought me

suddenly in sharp focus
the thinker

like a robber
caught in light

a bit of a monster

but wanting to be nice


*

there's a place where the factories end

there's a place where the factories end
then if you worried they start again
after a pause just a small gap

down in that place you'd meet
a few untouched trees and a portion sized
natural world where buildings
like factories and their
dominating stamp are unreal

these small reminders of
formerly
overwhelming natural wonder
will someday eat us all

because nature never stops dreaming
but we do


*

i see the mississippi river

i see the mississippi river
i think muffins i think garbage
houses that look like old shoes

steam comes up from the factories
pressing wood pressing grain sacrificing junk
sacrificing the pitted terrain of oranges
seen in a microscope

always hope though
alas pure unadulterated energy
from suns from kisses from buggy whips
from racing one thing into another

falling away from the center
when you eventually assume ruin
eventually you assume ending
but find the dreamy center


*

poet checks their poetry

poet checks their poetry
like someone else checks pulse
might even be breathing like
exerted as if exercising
how the brain races heart beats
fixating over a turn of phrase
or an older poet regards
it all like white painted walls




*

i am going

i am going

there is nowhere to go


there is no place to stay



speaking

no words to speak


no thoughts to form





all in

intention



all in the doing

i am going/ there is nowhere to go

i am going

there is nowhere to go

i am staying

there is no place to stay

speaking

no words to speak

thinking 

no thoughts to form

all in 

intention

all in the doing

of intent

888

making art out of inferior aims

In a sense, we're homesick for our true nature. 
— Mingyur Rinpoche 


making art out of inferior aims
if i am reduced to this let it be so

surrounded by beauty always
you see it as such essence

on a day that will never be repeated
a song one can make up from this



**

baba georges invents everything

baba georges invents everything
at the kitchen table where steam
from the mugs become clouds and
the egg are mountains and syrup seas
to the craggy shores of potato cakes
and every tiny thing became a story
of pirates and journeys though pogroms
to this sunlit patch of house where
everyone is everything tattoos blurring

baba georges tilts head like a sunflower
admiring other sunflowers if no other flower
then my face like baba georges face
just so much younger that baba reaches out for
smooths my hair and pats my cheek
and tells the dark funny stories studded with light
of bells of carts of endless fields of wheat
snow barbed wire and deep harbors
to this sunlit patch of house where
everyone is everything tattoos blurring

dissolving chewing fusing
people who had faces like houses
or bodies like villages and towns
some strong some hollowed out
violent burning as rivers flow
the earth holding while the sky
had clouds with all the tracery infinitely high
like lace like angles wryly looking down
and responsible for lucky breaks
baba georges squints and smiles

sighs and sighs and says and says
the arm back under a sweater
smooths my hair and pats my cheek
and tells the dark funny stories studded with light
of bells of carts of endless fields of wheat
and how can you keep seeing everything
the same way over and over again
when everything is a message
of bliss and a challenge at the same time
to choose dark or light

***

can you tell someone politely to shut up

can you tell someone politely to shut up
then you are a philosopher
or this is not possible without humor

looking deep down inside for the humility
to mislead others with genuine feeling
is the goal of ages



**

they are coming for us

they are coming for us

to read us bad poetry

we can't get away from it

it is our own poetry

*

they are coming for us

to put us all in prison

there is no escape

from making bad art

*

as if the sky / was coming out of

as if the sky
was coming out of
the apartment

from the
second story
painted blue

inside
the upper rooms
clouds rest

on chairs
call them
for rain or thunder



***



malta