perhaps tomorrow

with thoughts of Spring, wrote the original version last year while observing nature – I consider this a new piece, heavy rewrite

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my spine unfurls

as I wrote this piece, I returned to the clean silence of the woods, like nothing else in the world

he doesn’t care, we should

hi there –
The Avocet is a fabulous homage to nature and all its creatures – print issue available for ordering – a worthy and noble cause
I’m placing my poem – he doesn’t care – below:

he doesn’t care

he doesn’t care about crowns
he doesn’t know he is a king
he doesn’t care
his only kingdom is survival
we attached a silly moniker
for his magnificence
like we determine specie classification
all listed below us
we name each
for the natural beauty, grace and strength
we covet
unlike the magnificent beasts who
fly, leap, sprint, swim, glide
in ways that make us
desire trophies

we must manufacture superiority
we love roaring–
we are the rulers of this kingdom
you are only– 
 King of the Jungle
because that’s what we named you

the buck moon

I’m so very thrilled that a new poem of mine, the buck moon, was included in this wonderful magazine!
Into the Void, is available in both print and digital form.

Included in ‘Nine New Lit Mags You Need to Read’ as one of “nine new journals that appeared on the scene within the past couple of years and have already made their mark on the literary landscape” in the November/December 2016 Issue of Poets & Writers.”

anthropomorphic animals

four legs four legs on the ground
untainted smooth
inertia bound

there it hides
its hiding there
safe from them
there is nowhere
go stop run
run stop go
from flesh, that flesh
that’s white as snow

must cut away her utility…

when it goes
where it stops
gets trampled underfoot
route unnamed
smudged by earth
man’s untimely soot

must appreciate his underbelly…

polluted vagaries
nest, pack, herd,
colony, turmoil
gaggled words
shrewdness,
heard
the silent sound
tribe, cackle, richness
boom band bound

must reexamine my duel motives…

pride and mob, school and pod
pride and school emergent mob
efforting while in sexual season
sucking up to tainted treason

dissonance parleys the uninformed
murdered the goddamn unicorns
call and alarm all shadows here
their fur hides hide our naked fear
no more, no more, I beg no more
uncork the apple from the boar
knocking, crippling, maturing hell
alarm a shadow, crack the bell

oh, Theodor please help me…

up it stands
on his hands
she be down
on the ground
all replete
on 2 feet
no longer
balking
they are walking
no more
walking
they are talking
walking
talking
when it goes
where it stops
no one knows
oh, but I do

polluted hearts
dirty forms
chatting animals
form the norm

it is never too late, darling…

four legs four legs on the ground
only two now make a sound
earth burnt souls melt in the fold
low bones whisper words foretold…

Interred/change
I couldn’t admit how I adored you
my dead heart must now implore you
so simple back then, my oh my
my Theodor’s eyes in absentia cry
skull-homageI generally don’t attempt rhyme but something grabbed hold of me this morning (perhaps a sprite from last night😉), Animal Farm on the brain while reading youngster Rimbaud’s pain (I admit sadly for the first time)…

by myself

I am trapped in an intolerable sameness
My mind, a weapon firing the same bullet over and over–
killing everything I wake for each day
Trapped in life’s jungle, a purgatory for lost hunters–
those who know where they should be perched–
but can never climb high enough
Earth hardens me, heaven humbles me
Trapped in between, I stare down at God and up at the devil
So much transpires, lustful living chokes out the meek
Promises break, chambers are emptied
Nothing springs back, nothing returns–

nothing, until him
His disarming gunmetal eyes–a grey so pure–
he surely has stolen pigment from Saturn’s rings
My weakest points give way to his bare arms
He becomes what I had prayed for
My spirit rekindles, like a weary grizzly in heat
Freed, my slumbering heart rises from its hibernation
His words turn my winter breath into spring air
Every moving part of his powerful anatomy, targets me–
He parlays brilliant charm and overtakes my trust

Sometime later, the camouflage fades
The sun breaks through the dense canopy
I observe him from a new position–
watching while he is unaware
My mind returns to restless oblivion
There is, I will admit here, a sense of comfort in the chaos
Around me, the entire world stampedes in unison
And I know I can survive by myself

leopard

leopard

 

please do not leave me alone

please don’t leave me alone
with me
she isn’t always patient
often acerbic
with her
self
demanding the muse
to squat in her studio
silent so she can think
with or without a voice
outside her
self
this night is especially dark
 blustering trees their arms grabbing
wind pushes those
in his way
muse on a dead leaf
brilliant color now diminished
mottled
from overuse
the sky is howling
autumn is upon them
muse and artist
with no words or lines
thoughts in color
passed summer’s glow
dead umber like soil in shadow
ideas in flat space
wind cannot reach
muse cannot speak
senses dulled enough
to hibernate
please don’t leave me alone
I can’t think in dark caves

Shy Bear/Prisma

Shy Bear/Prisma

making art

he asks
why do I have to take art
I respond
art is not something you take
it is something you give

she says
I can’t even draw a stick figure
I respond
life saving fire has been born
of simple sticks

he says
I can’t do anything right
I respond
you’re in good company
now put all your wrongs together

and make beautiful art

tiger mouth/acrylicI really like this verse (first posted last year) but not because I wrote it.
I wish we said this to young creative hearts more often.

tiger – acrylic on canvas, long ago-thank you

our dreams

thoughts
let me stop
north and southbound trains
braking at red
or bust headlong
fly off the tracks
no riding the rails for free
I placed a penny there
good luck for my friends
thoughts
never stop writing
never stop reading
never stop wondering
I never do
there are things that break my heart
a train whistle echoing in the empty night
a ship horn crying beneath hazy moonlight
a lone wolf howling across the sleeping forest
Paris, in a dream
words that crack like dry clay
thoughts curving into chance
love poems left unsung
all these things
all our words

makes me wonder
if our dreams
are always fair

Red Wolf

Red Wolf

created last year-thank you