There is you

There is you with your passionate flow,
and the ones who worry
that it isn’t enough,
who sense your heart failure,
too much drink in your veins,
the shot glasses shattering.

sometimes in the night

Sometimes in the night
you search for buried sweet things
with love and delight

Love's Unanswered Call

Seeking light at the end of my tunnel,
Rain in my hurricane,
Hoping to pull one small stone
From my burdened Great Wall,
I came to your door.

Breathless, demanding,
Your mindless messenger:
Furious as fire,
Ashamed as burnt lace,
Terrified of love’s
Unanswered call.

Forty days I persisted;
Forty days and their nights
I knocked at your door.
On that very last morning,
Dried up and standing alone,
Only then did I finally know:
Not your echoes of judgment
Not your punishing pounding within,
But my own fragile knuckles,
In the end all callused and cold,
Had caused me such pain,
Had kept me without,
Had stopped me
From opening
The door.

Afterwords

So now that you’re through it
Faced your fears, yes dived in!
Not made mountains of molehills
Instead simply slipped in
To the challenge before you
Done the “I’d rather not”
Now it’s time to be spoiled:
Go for what you aint got.
Maybe small as the whiff
Of the breezes that sing
Through the flowers and treezes
Beneath robins' wings.
Or it could be a treat
Something “grownups” won’t eat
Ice cream snowshoes or icicles
Dripping chocolaty sweets

‘Cause you know it is true,
You can always indulge,
But the best time to do it
Is after the bulge
Of pressure has faded,
When the “musts” have been done,
Less guilt will engulf you,
Lots more fun will be won,
When the house you inhabit
Within and without
Has been cleared of its clutteredness
Inside and out
If you cross off the list
(but don’t make it too long)
It’s much more
Fun to play
You can shout like King Kong
“I have done it, I did it!
I have no more to do!
I can lie on the couch;
I can go to the zoo!
I can find my good friends;
I can cuddle alone,
I can read a good book;
I can chat on the phone.
I can wander outside,
doing naught:
Whoop de doo!!!”

You'll need nary a worry 'bout
What you SHOULD do!~

Favors Through the Phone

I’m hungry
I don’t
want to write
Sometimes
I just feel
so uptight
I need to make
some scary calls:
That makes me
put up
mile-high walls.
I cannot stop
I will not rest
Until I pass this
Character test
Of screwing courage to the post
Punch the numbers coast to coast
Say the thing I need to say
Get in get out without delay
I put it off
I really do
I write this silly
Poem for “you”
Don’t even know who you “whos” are
That read these bad poems from afar
Cannot believe you’re out there, No!
The trick is
“you” I need not know
I think I do
But I do not
You readers have your own life plot
And I have these two calls to make
I put them off,
Slink like a snake
Through my worry’s forest floor
Refuse to open up the door
That settles me and makes it fine
To talk to others on the line
Especially when I have to seek
Some answers
with no prefaced
peek
At what they might
or might not
be
I’d rather just lie here with tea
But that an option it is not
Others wait for what I’ve got
Ability to be the one
To connect
When
life’s undone
To ease their worry
(more than mine)
That’s why I need to stop this whine
Take a few deep breaths for me
A few more grounding sips of tea
And then just take my phone in hand
Stretch my inner holy land
So that the fear will let me be
It can’t be
as hard
as it seems
To ask a favor:
one
or two
I mean reversed, I’d surely do
This thing in short time if I could
And if not
I know
that I would
Offer tendrils,
follow-up
With i-deas
that would
fill right up
This void I hope to perhaps fill
Ok this is enough and shrill
The voices in me say “you’re done”
No one will read this
It’s too long
And what’s the point except that you
Have put off what you have to do
I’m “hanging up” here yes I am
I’ll now have courage in my hand
To make those calls
To seek resource
Remember we all
Share the force
Of love and mercy
Calm those fears!
It's helped that you're out there
You dears!

Deep Water Connections

I dreamt my friends had cancer:
Ovarian and lung.
They lived across the sea
And I tried to swim to them
Through breaking waves
Which the lifeguard had assured me
Would calm
As soon as I reached deeper water

Midway through the surf
I realized I had no addresses
Didn’t know where they lived.
Panicked and retreated
Knowing once I reached the other side
My efforts
Would be futile

Worse yet,
Back on dry land,
I learned
I’d lost my schedule
For the new naturopathic classes
I was supposed to attend;
An orientation organized,
All the pupils waiting.

In the hotel where we had gathered
I clambered cluttered rooms
Had to Search
And Disappoint,
Since without the numbered titles
No one knew
In which room I should begin.

I wonder when
I began to distrust
My inner lifeguard,
The surety that I
Would find my way
Through raging surf
To deep water connections,
That I could,
(Without prescriptive tools
Handed me by others)
Within my own knowing,
Release my healing ways.

Immortality

I was not meant for just one life
Too many hearts reside in mine
I know I will return
Not just ten but
Ten thousand times:
On Eagle’s wings,
In empty pockets,
Within the hands of aging waltzers.
Ten thousand times
I’ll echo love;
Ten thousands times
I’ll sigh.




Now this is a day early, too...since I posted yesterday for today...maybe Sunday will just have two...such is life.

We Have Always Known

You think you'll live forever
Let death pass over, so it seems
The way you push yourself
Toward "Meaning"
And Keep fording endless streams
Of worry, consternation:
"Can 'True Being' e're be known?"
You charge headstrong on your pathway
Searching endlessly for Home.

But all along
There is this log
Upon
Whose strength
You could repose.
Ospreys hover,
And then plummet;
Sand keeps shifting
Through your toes.
Water whisked, white-capped and fluid,
Laps longing at your feet
You could just lie back
And feel it
You could know yourself complete.

You'd need
No faithful absolution
No understanding passing all,
No great mystery unfolding
To discern True Nature's call.
It's an ever-present cycle
(Not obscured by some dark wall):
We will rupture and return
We have always been The Fall.



so I know this is a day early, but in case I can't get back to this computer, and because I'm traveling tomorrow...I'm posting Sunday's post right now....with much appreciation for the opportunity to practice letting go...M.

How Love Is Borne

Did you see my red heart?
Blossoming on the hillside
like poppies after the rain?

Did you see my heart there, too?
Below the eroding riverbed,
like wild chocolate waters
streaming pain?

Don't you feel it?
The way it's meant to be?
How love is borne
of this:
Welcome and arousal;
Abundance and despair?

An Island poem

Today I ignored the sign
just kept walking
one foot in front of the other
on mossy rock outcroppings
overlooking windswept straits.
Only a brief pause to ponder
the wisdom of my ways:
"Private Property Beyond This Point"
"No Tresspassing"
"Please Respect Our Laws" --
Caveates large and red-orange
like the sun setting me on fire;
my heart pounding
despite dogged determination
to continue on
the fear of being discovered
threatening to burst from my chest
the way that first upheaval
created this island home.

Is it any different, really?
The way I slip past my own
red-flagged protesters
and release this island poem?

Lent's not for Rent....or oh well, I tried!

Fat Tuesday comes
It’s Mardis Gras
Festooned in masquarade
I love the beat
I feel the pulse
For me this night was made
My heart is open
Full, alive
Leans into revelry
The yellow, purple, green of kings
Was surely meant for me!

Night will turn to morning,
but me, I will not rent
the Lenten call
to “thorny crown”
withdrawal
and lament.

My feathered mask
I’ll have to leave
upon the closet floor;
in two-step waltz
I’ll exit from
that cracked, half-opened door.

With steps of not-quite-certainty
I’ll have to yes, proclaim
post-revelry rebellion
I’ll not erase my name

Nor suffer loss
With no intent
Except to suffer loss
Instead I’ll bring my instrument
Of listening to the cross

The ways in which we do not mean
But nonetheless succeed
In stealing one another’s love
Because of our own greed

I’ll notice how I give away
The nurture that is mine
Look outward for a clear display
That my love is divine

Or how I hurt the other one
Who travels on my way
How I will turn toward my own route
To keep myself away

I want to choose
to stay beside
my kindred and my kin
to see the one I dis as “you”
is also me within.

It’s not so different
I don’t think
Fat Tuesday and today
We’re called to sip
Each other’s brew
And not to throw away
The inner eye
The soul divine
We know we each are one
Conundrum, yes
But oh so true
Thank God this poem’s done!

Aspiration of Angels

I called that they might feel my pulse
Open the door to my desire
Untangle the twisted vines.

I already know the path
though that longing for the other
breathes through every pore,
constrains the beating of my heart.

The night air brings with it
an ancient cradle,
the wind sings a lullaby;
like a dervish
silver laughter
breaks the stony silence.

I imagine perfumed angels
transcribing the beat of hummingbird wings;
the cobra coils at my feet,
and I weep for the moon.

They hover
almost within reach,
whisper my destiny
passed down through the ages,
fleeting as Haiku:

Dewdrops shimmering
naked on cherry blossoms
preparing to fall.

The angels sing my fragility,
Call me by name
(from daybreak
to dusk,
and through this midnight hour)
to raise my voice in counterpoint.



Unharnessed
my lungs expand,
my heart stretches
as we tumble,
twisting into darkness,
the emptiness
like a serrated edge
between us,
and I fear the light
so white
I cannot sleep.

a father's dream

I have lived with nothing

But sixpence and decay,

Shouldering unspent boulders

Up incandescent hillsides,

Only to pause for breath,

Ignite delay,

Become rooted

to the place

of uncertainty

and hesitation,

Where once again

I hear

but do not see

The stone’s

Retreat

The momentous propulsion

Backward

toward

the ever-present

Call of

Descent and return.