show me a wise poem

show me a wise poem

the poem i need

to free me from my idle nonsense

which i very much like

i will be raised up

full of righteousness and abandon

my daisy arms and lazy fingers

writing stories in crayon

\* 

at one point

at one point

you'd call me

usually in the middle

of the night and i'd

always pick up 

and then part of me

always hoped

somehow you'd

come back 

though i knew

you never would

but i couldn't

help myself

thinking this

half asleep

hearing your

words (with a TV

on in the 

background)

then eventually

you stopped

calling

__

some people they ban books

some people they ban books

wishing they could ban thoughts

or even ban some people 

from breathing air

who wants to admit

they dream of thought controlling

& murder there's a few

who dream of the day they could

*

we do not agree on everything

my partner and i 

we do not agree on everything

that is why we are together

one of my associates 

tells his girlfriend, "i don't care"

when it comes to how she feels

(how do you own 

anything from another?

so he tells her)

"i don't care" could work for some

it could be just the right thing

for some people but

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

now that we were comparing

philosophies 

but in then end he is right --

i don't care, we don't care about 

anything at all 

there's this primeval nature

an infinite view

of time and space

wherein we do not achieve

but instead abide

never separate

but until i get 

into vastness of clarity 

that has no ending

i am in a relationship

i can offer my sympathies

if it seems to help

i know we can't do anything

for anybody 

but i still want to

i'll always be this way

giving to another is a hard habit

to break 

and somewhere in there

is a path 

--

for Deborah

snow crosses an american flag

snow crosses an american flag

as the wind blows and the sky

is like a map of all the conquering

done in the name of a young nation

every high and low place every broad

plain or stabbing river flag furling

and unfurling in victory over forgetting

all the people shoveled into the earth

or gathered together and burned 

but then a flag is just a flag and the

blowing wind suggests nothing as

the flakes of snow and hail make the flag

look big and stand out against a turgid

rolling screen of clouds as we make new

friends and learn to see and speak parts of

new languages which suggests 

everything possible before all of us 

every one

more flurries across the front of a

flowing and wending american flag

we are all children sprung from disaster 

crossing a great map in our minds which

constantly is changing and extending

giving everything any thing you'd wish to see

hope victory loss anger commitment

punishment or imagination a day 

every day or no day at all let us have

the courage to know and be faithful 

towards each other

_

during the day / i watch the clouds

during the day

i watch the clouds

at night

i listen to the

pine tree

blowing in the wind

in the backyard

>

i imagine

it tells me

of every rising

and setting

sun moon and

star it ever

felt and how

i am so young

and how

i will be

gone so quick

>

scampering

some more

memorable

than others

>

so now

for my tree

i give it

a fine bed of

needles for

the snow

to fall on

as if

i could

keep it

warm

>

do trees

actually feel

or think?

i ask

the sky

>

no reply

yet but

the magnificence

of every

thing i see

hints

—

CM Evans

help me break my / patterns / they blind / me

help me break my 

patterns

they blind

me

the way

i decide how

to place

a line

snow reported

to be 1.7 inches

in this

afternoon

as i struggle

to find my

feet today

in my

profession

instead i

look up Billy 

Collins

who has never

written a

poem i 

did not 

like

then i wonder

how someone

like this

could

exist

and do they

ever mean to

get their feet 

in the

day

yet go looking

for other 

things

and billy collins

knows where

wild 

birds 

fly

and why a

beautiful 

woman

sighs 

he'd know the 

signaling of 

something 

secret

and precious

the message

in a 

trembling 

sustained 

string

or where 

the highest

star in 

the night

winks towards

all the while

i doodled here

in my brain 

writing poems

like a shopping

list or a 

description of

being lost 

but here is

something to

hope for

now

here is 

where

i have 

reached

soon will

endlessly 

be falling 

beautiful 

snow

beautiful 

snow

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

i have nothing to give

yet here in what i am offering

could convince you to not

become what i decided to be

i am a unit of estimation

worthless for measuring anything 

except for the imaginative

and all of that is endless

may all of us 

become complete 

in the recognition

of our own folly

then spurred on

to offer even more

*

CM Evans

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

i read that it takes a raindrop

seven minutes to fall from the sky to the ground

and during that time any of us

can live lifetimes of wonder worry dreams or ideas

until the raindrop splashes us 

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

where you stop with a sense of shock

even wonder free of all this mental rummaging

and you look up at the greatness of the sky 

feeling a sense of freedom and even a strange exaltation

+

i do not remember anything properly

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

so i have a pageant in my mind 

life like a float in a parade full of amazing beings 

astounding scenery

my seeing started out as totally sane

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

but later it became as real 

there is something holy in persistence

especially with delightful aims to disarm and brighten

every dark corner

possibly god or whomever 

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

they may brush me with a fingertip

or handsome is as handsome does

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

from the glory of their own heart

__

angels stung / demons promoted

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

_

help me

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

__

wander the furrowed fields of words

wander the furrowed field of words

the farmer is the mind going along

through memories or recollections

all of them invented in one way or the other

then bound to the exertion of the task 

just like bull bound to the yoke and metal blade 

dreaming thoughts and earth both ripped and flipped

showing the other side then following 

of a filling and then gathering then burning 

the ground will be gone over again

trodden torn open then planted anew

real and imagined seasons overhead underneath

quickening phases of life and death 

more strain more images and imagining 

lines like furrows cut on the page 

and then a rest when the hands rest

sigh be still and take it in observe all around

like any tiller will do from time to time

see how it never changes from a point of view

but freedom is at here plowed or not

and the earth lays so serene uncut

if only we could be more like ponds

steams rivers lakes or the sky

so thinking goes 

---

CM Evans

i dine with god and goddesses

i dine with gods and goddesses 
way above my paygrade

in my dreams

it is so absurd to see

they accept me 

*

everytime i have the dream

 everytime i have the dream

i can't remember 

and i dream it another time

i always say 'geeze it is good

to be back in this dream! one of 

the best dreams of all time,

now that i remember i remember

it.' and i'm sure after this i

take off my coat look around and

sigh 

___

for 2021

12.31.21

in the sparkling night

in the sparkling night

there are places to land

we work on a puzzle of

'the dream' by rousseau

we might watch the festivities

faraway in nyc or vegas

but we don't because

you are and i here and

this is where it is turkey

stiches and staples

peanut butter dog treats

*

it isn't good to wait

it isn't good to wait
but i do 

it is my default 

spiritual practice

or lack of any

proper practice

so i'll rouse myself

goad myself

to appear 

otherwise

and sometimes

i am different

and i am

true

the universe

has a great 

sense of

humor

and will work 

with me

and with 

whatever

i think

__

the night sky is not out of hand

the night sky is not out of hand

the stars are not out of hand

the moon is not out of hand

the bare trees are not out of hand

the snowy rooftops are not out of hand

nor the warm houses

nor the bright kitchens

nor the leaking washer

nor the clogged drain

8

sensible dreams

sensible dreams

sensible answers

don't play out 

in sensible life

but why is this

there are so 

many dreams

and so many

dream answers
for sensible life

_

this day

this day

the only place

it is marred

is where we step

or think

+