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 

every mission mistaken

every mission mistaken
explanations laying on the floor

of the kitchen in the form of marks

whole ranks of dishes or pans

unwashed turning into fantastic dioramas

in the sink which contains worlds

meanwhile the yard beckons

the sky surges blue bluer BLUE 

birds twirl in the apple tree

drawings on the table paintings

offering some excuse or reason 

worked through all this by doing 

in the imperfect can be found

a certain level of dignity 

even solace as long

as we realize we have it 

***

stressed as sandpaper

stressed as sandpaper
wearing everyone away

__

i go to the florists

i go to the florists

hoping they can fix

my life

**

to mind

to mind
or ignore
any
convention

with my
precious
friends
all a
meditation

like
drops of
rain fall
into
a barrel

--

Hat Lake

i dream about the monsters below

i dream about the monsters below

dark in the water like a green cougar or a snake
and the thunderers above

throwing their lightening stones and grappling

in a white fog that covers when they come 

the surface of the lake churns into white froth

i have not really known anything 

of this endless contest of theirs though it was

cycling all around me for so long 

if i am teachable i might even see the eggs

they spring from or the strange markings 

they sometimes leave on the earth 

or perhaps i will always be an outcast

in this and other things that fly by announce

circle and then go over the horizon 

have compassion for every orphan

who wanders this earth far from dwellings

that were burned 

and remembrances 

of forsaken places float like bits of ash

on the smoke of this space we call home

---

i really thought

i really thought 

if i understood you

what you were teaching

then i'd understand everything

but the only thing 

that i can understand is

regret of how i wasted my time

in believing i could believe

but the good news in this

i am also free and i always was

more like a firefly of thoughts

playing in the universal garden 

just after a rain

__

if i do not make sense
i have a chance to be true

nonsense can be as educating

as mud 

there's an ocean above me

an ocean in me

and an ocean below

all of them full of stars

and that isn't my fault 

which means it is 

can't be lost or earned

we are full of wonder

head to toe time no barrier

you are out there

and in here always 

descriptive beyond repair

a moose can run on water

or try silence 

which is not 

we have cellphones and electronic notepads

we have cellphones and electronic notepads

but i still write on my hand a line or two

if it is really important to remember

if it is something longer to recall

i'll get a receipt from my wallet 

write on the blank back of it 

because i must do the actions

i am accustomed with and remember

writing with a pen on something 

the pen is mightier than the sword

even has a better memory than me 

---

CM

people meet for the first time

people meet for the first time
it is so good to know you

though we intend for this to be a lie

it is also entirely true

because the universe will have its way

and we are in the service 

of higher truths and major vows

that we gratefully took and now forgot

__

ego working time

ego working time 

like a weightlifter pumping iron

able to effortlessly 

bench resentments and goals 

a drunken referee too 

making up the rules as people come and go 

pride beneath is

able to be fashioned into whatever i'd like

to keep me entertained or in thrall

and for it to never be directly viewed 

imagine if the imposter

in the wizard of oz never got caught

or is doing everything to keep

from being exposed 

 

that's me

8

sunburned at the saint croix river

sunburned at the saint croix river

just on the minnesota side 

blue lagoon with waving sea grasses

while boat after boat adventurously run

north or south with american flags

long white trunks of trees

fallen on the beach looking like

ballerina legs in mid flight

a church group comes down

50 or so tightly packed in a mass

and they sing and baptize 

the day seems to last forever

every condition so full and so fixed

blades of grass insects and every stone

all around with light and breeze

the senses seek eyes enchanted

we consider the trek back

gradually we gather things

as the wind blows harder

the water surface stippled

still shining yet evening tint

even the boats go away

then what a fabulous night it must be

at the saint croix river

a forever secant untampered 

with crickets and a billion stars

the calm waters parted slightly

by a wandering deer or frog

v

the dream was having a gem

the dream was having a gem

precious beyond all things 

with any quality imaginable

then rapidly forgotten

within a few seconds 

of being awake

if i could remember

all my dreams i'd be 

the wealthiest midas 

you'd ever meet

o

this kind of endless/ bliss

this kind of endless

bliss 

easily found because it 

is

every mental target and

mind

naturally resolved in

itself

__

https://twitter.com/Acanthotelson

i don't know what i can get

don't know what i can get

we all start off that way 

in fields of perceptions

some shady others hot 

what of my adornments

serious achievements 

enhancing every vista

these revelations gush 

flooded of our youth 

great play waves and 

cascades of effort sly

or outright theft

the show settles down

with a sense of release

even ridiculousness

in there a vigilant will

how beautiful is the day

always was forever 

how beautiful the night 

never saw it til now

there's many a broken toy

in my front room and yard

puppet strings snapped

deus ex machina

worn down to just brass

*

i try to find my father in other people

i try to find my father in other people

especially the ones that are interesting and unavailable

and i did not fully understand how this worked

because i liked the idea of finding in other people

my father 

an animated man full of secrets and industry

possessing a shifting guarded inner sovereignty

as if his heart was a forge and mind like a hammer

making work for god or those even beyond

i was coveted yet ignored

burned by some of the sparks

these marks made me feel elevated and proud

but the space he thrived in is gone

the place he hid in cremated

endless days now sunshine and manicured grass

walking down the path after a hundred or so

his white stone 

i'm begging off now from my ideas and plans

any form or formulation of my father

letting all matters to come rest 

because ideas and wants are unattainable

everything is equal 

  can come to a stay

at ease naturally without this play

__

for my father and G.K.

a birthday coming soon

a birthday coming soon

i don't know what to say 

i'll be sad if alone yet 

i am alone in my head

been that way for years

moved around too much 

because of kids and jobs

then there's the martyr 

always interesting to be

what can we say of this day

how did you or i introduce it

did we give it gifts or kind words

and make room for everything

coming and going without rancor

or was it another pantomime

a production proclaiming us 

while others are seen captive

witnesses only to watch 

please hold your applause 

a birthday coming soon

i can give the notion up

of being completed or divided

based on what i've thought

or anything i dared to dream

by recognizing the time 

the rest was shaving in the mirror

being here is the highest thing 

*

July 8, 2021

that thinking does not sum or solve / everything

at eight i mow the lawn

it is past dusk just into night 

the push mower rasps 

i should sharpen the blades

but i do not know how

so i go on like with other things

in my life that could bear 

closer attention yet i decline

it makes it harder any task

makes me wonder now 

in the deepening dark if

i am frankly lazy or a coward

or a mix of both and what then

what is me like this living poorly

in my own head and soul

but i take courage by seeing 

how my work progresses 

the cuts are sound and i am glad

that thinking cannot sum or solve 

every thing

***

St Louis Park

A Party

had something wise to say then i forgot what it was
which is wise

waiting for you to come home soon the evening

getting started

the neighbors have been having a backyard party

they waved

but do not invite me over so i smile at them

i wave back

over the hours the party becomes louder

more intense 

feelings and some of the people fall back

lay on the grass

others are hopping up and down arms rigid

and chests out 

the games are all played and there's some

embarrassment as some leave

the few that remain do a sunburned pantomime

appear to be in a play

it takes me back 

as i hear your car pull up 

*

A Germ of an Idea

FROM JAIL,

Once you start getting arrested, it can be the thing that you keep getting arrested more. It becomes hard to not be continuously arrested. I mean, that is what I am saying. Or what I mean.

I'm an arsonist, and I burn down outhouses. Always knock first -- if someone is in the outhouse, I go to another unoccupied one. 

Sometimes I blow outhouses up, thus my getting arrested. Seems the cops especially don't like that. Or the community. 

It was a germ of idea, it was funny, imagining an outhouse burning. Or exploding in rockets of flames. I thought about it for YEARS.

All those years I kept it to myself, and I'd laugh or chuckle, and sometimes and my neighbors thought I was mirthful. And I was, but they thought it was for life or the weather or having a sunny disposition that I do have as well. 

I volunteered, I was on the village fire brigade, I ran for town mayor, I attended church and gave to charity. I raised three beautiful kids and my wife left me for the dentist in the next town over when the kids were out of the house.

And I burned HIS -- the dentist's outhouse -- down, first. 

**

Poem - The Patient 12

12

and like that

i see John Shipley

sitting in the bright sun

on the side of the road

on battered suitcase

when i get to him

he smiles 

a little sunburned

i'm sorry for any shocks

or surprises 

things happened very quickly

and i was moving

behind the scenes

pulling quantum strings

a fix or two to the 

continuum? we will see

he looks a bit

abashed then 

smiles again 

but you are doing

fine from what i 

see and i think from

what i know now

you will be 

absolutely ok 

he stands and

opens his arms

to the sky and

the whole world

we're men

who both have

everything and 

we know it 

he gives me 

an irresistible smile

how rare is that?

take care and

goodbye you're 

safe 

enjoy everything

that is to come

and before i can

protest or ask all

my questions he 

hands me the torn

ace then 

a quick embrace

a car pulls up

and he gets in

with the case

waves

and disappears

down the road

*

as the wind

picked up 

me standing there

i let the card go

watched it fly

into the sky 

until i could see it

then suddenly not

then i said a prayer

a heartfelt prayer 

for everyone i 

ever knew or hoped to know

everywhere they have been

and everywhere they might be

***

Poem - The Patient 11

11

we stay
at the lake 

the phone

does not ring

you seem younger

and then older

then younger again

at times when

you don't think i see you

tragic

and also beautiful

we are under a sky

with no limit of stars

at night

Poem - The Patient 10

10

we meet 

at a park 

it is almost dusk

i thought i was

ready 

but i see your face

contorted with 

guilt and regret

it comes as a

terrible shock

the way we

hurt and wound

each other

in the pursuit

of happiness

you 

say how

sorry you are 

over and over again

sorry sorry

so sorry

in the background

i see someone

i ask 

is he following you?

you turn

and when you 

see him

you clasp your arms

together holding

yourself tightly

and scream

go away!

go away!

as you do this

i touch your

shoulder and

you startle

we leave

together and

don't look back

later you 

cry and i hold you

i watch the 

light of the streetlamp

flowing over

slips of paper

tossed shoes clothes

books and a hat

=

i dance on the edge of a cliff

i dance on the edge of a cliff
then sit down without looking

*

nature with great huge soft hands

grinding mountains into dust 

---

for Chung Tzu

here is a door/ from the house

for my daughter phoebe lee

here is a door

from the house

sturdy maple

from 1925

glass nob 

intact

covered 

front & back 

with your thoughts

and dreams

stickers notes

warnings and exhortations

LITTLE BROTHERS 

STAY OUT

*

you are 

far away 

doing well

in college

the door 

became my desk

first by

accident

later by

choice

*

reminds me now

of every day

how it can

get away 

and how special

our time is

people

come and go

we become

separated but

we can 

become grateful 

learn new things

even transform

always love

----

St Louis Park

Spring 2021

the last spring snow

the last spring snow
reminds me of ghostly things

scattered flakes 
dancing then gone

having no body yet
present by being, hardly 

--

St Louis Park

4/19/21

for digital spyglasses staring/ at digital snow

says rain and more rain

but there's no rain outside

just an electronic report 

later when it does rain

online says there's no rain outside

another bulletin and error

we say the googles and amazons 

are always right but accept

from them endless nonsense

reject natural wisdom that springs forth 

for digital spyglasses staring

at digital snow

**

SLP

4.7.21

i miss where it stands

it rains on the tree that fell over

part of a stump 

the rest of the branches trimmed

in another part of the yard

when we moved in 

the tree was dead for many years

wood smooth all the bark 

worn away 

the previous owner 

had trimmed off the longest branches

but for some reason left

the rest of the tree be

i imagined for two years

putting in bright little bird houses

or festive lights to spruce it up

have an illusion of new life

after it fell

i found out the tree

was rotten at the base 

and terribly heavy

i miss where it stands

---

SLP

4.7.21

buddha size of my mouth

buddha size of my mouth

buddha the size of my brain

buddha outside too 

morning snow melted

--

today it rains

today it rains

buddha in my mouth

by my teeth 

buddha on your arm

*

fine fine fine

i have no courage 

have no superstition

live in faith

all my beliefs 

emerge from 

direct experience

thus i am brave

every idea of mine

such a fine thing

such a fine fine thing

fine fine fine

a buddha is home/ you think you are away

 a buddha is home
you think you are away 
or the other is away
never not at home

**

a buddha / is not walking softly

a buddha
is not walking softly
or heavily 
in your head

88

Interplay of emptiness

Interplay of emptiness 

Of how things are 

And how they become 

Wind is empty so are mountains 

Wind pushes me

Mountains push me 

Rain is empty so are thoughts 

Rainfall tickles me

So do thoughts

Light is empty and so no-light

Brightness reveals

And so does the dark 

It all plays through emptiness 

Forgot to become or remembering

Impossible or always

sometimes even a shining path is laced with shadows

sometimes even a shining path is laced with shadows

place your steps carefully on the way that goes ever upward

move with purpose through every deep dale or on a wind swept ridge

where you could fall

beset by the tumult of emotions thoughts and will

all on the shining path 

***

our collective grief

our collective grief
hosted in the heart
burning candle 
night like a shrine

morning back into

the breach

88

Add the Sum to the Product of these Three

Add the sum to the product of these three:
Old Age, Sickness, and Death --
crowning the impermanence of all things;
born into the contest of Samsara.

88

this is the day oh striving hope

this is the day oh striving hope

blessed for what is full of wanting and what is not

you are the phantom in every thought

and lighting everything else dramatically

searchlight of the mind sweeping

beauty found beauty lost

always more about to be

quickly comes and goes

imperishable encouraging

— —

CM Evans

every sweet thing

every sweet thing 

footprints in your mind
trodden on endless beauty
we are accustomed to making marks

*

tell me things i don't know

tell me things i don't know
give me the surprises 
and everything i thought would never happen
show me how narrow my mind is

it is the only way 

to have a big mind by constantly 

breaking everything thought to be fixed

realizing this isn't a threat but a huge view 

then we can be like

kids again seriously at play 

and this kind of mind makes imagination's toil

rarely fail to persuade or save 

88

Will you please answer that phone

Will you please answer that phone
But if it is for me tell them I am in Africa

Discovering the true source of the Nile

Because John Hanning Speke was a liar

*

He wrote his name boldly at the top of the sheet

He wrote his name boldly at the top of the sheet
He wrote his name boldly at the bottom

He wrote his name large in the middle 

He tore the page up and started again 

**

The pleasant hours fly by much too soon

The pleasant hours fly by much too soon

If we are enamored with drudgery 

So move lightly from task to task 

Never let one own you 

*

The man went to the woods to gather sticks

The man went to the woods to gather sticks

Instead he found the woods 

He was happy to wander all day 

He came home with a leaf in his hat 

***

The heap of fallen leaves was set on fire

The heap of fallen leaves was set on fire

The smoke drifted up into the sky

When flames reached wetness and damp

There'd be hissing and puffs of blue smoke 

***

Schools for ladies teach charm and grace

Schools for ladies teach charm and grace

While boys want to wrestle and climb trees

There will come a time when a boy can't decide

To return charm for grace or to have tree for free

**

Wood is best for making toys and blocks

Wood is best for making toys and blocks

Metal is good for guns and bombs

Flowers are best for wooing love

And soothsayers for solving sphinxes riddles

**

The pirates seized the crew of the lost ship

The pirates seized the crew of the lost ship

Then the crew seized the pirates' ship

They sailed away in opposite directions

Wondering how that managed to happen 

**

Bring your problems to the wise chief

Bring your problems to the wise chief

He may look at each one weighing them carefully

If you can explain them rationally enough

He may decide to put one like a feather in his hat

***

He ordered peach pie with ice cream

He ordered peach pie with ice cream

28 pies with 28 gallons of vanilla 

He fed every squirrel in the yard

Plus every raccoon and fox that night

***

Cut the pie into large parts

Cut the pie into large parts

Make it two slices because there are us

You and me with an old ticking clock

The heirloom clock does not eat

**

Her purse was full of useless trash

Her purse was full of useless trash

And in it was no ID 

In a small notebook in the side pocket

She had wrote I HATE YOU at least 300 times

**

Press the pants and sew a button on the vest

Press the pants and sew a button on the vest

It is a blind date not a hanging 

If you bring flowers get real ones 

A silk rose the size of your head would be strange

88

Most of the news is easy for us to hear

Most of the news is easy for us to hear

Stories that trouble are suppressed

We'll buy all our things made with slave labor

And have a bright nice clean house 

***

The beam fell on the head of the worker

The beam fell on the head of the worker
But he was unharmed a toy soldier

As a child I built many structures

Greater than any castles in the air 

**

She danced like a swan tall and graceful

She danced like a swan tall and graceful

No one knew she was terminally ill

She had a standing ovation and thought

If every night could be like this one 

**