Betrayal

If I betray

I betray myself

For there is no

One standing where

I stand, but

Me.

My Needs Are Few

My needs are few

the desert

in my heart

the wisdom of the

heavens, a certain love

whose love I

hold near,

and you.

 

 

 

The Girl in the Yellow Dress

Tags

death, dreams, journey, life, light, loss, mystery, myth, poetry, story

The light was penetrating, cutting into his soul, his spirit. He felt nothing though he sensed the light through his dead retinas.

When he was twelve he saw a girl in a yellow dress cross the street in front of a jeepney. In minutes she was gone. On the black road were chunks of red meat, shreds of yellow, dark curly hair on what might be a head, the girl was gone.

For years he dreamt a whole life with that Girl in the Yellow Dress. They grew up, met and married. They had children but what children those were since he didn’t know what children were. He knew dragons better.

When he was hit on the ambush outside Fallujah there was such a penetrating light cutting into his soul, his spirit. When he woke up he was at a base hospital, his head bandaged so he didn’t know for days what he had lost if he had lost anything.

They had two children, girls in little white dresses, courteous to a fault. In fact, they never spoke except when they were sleeping when they wove stories so beautiful hearing them he wept with joy. Mildred and May. Their faces were like the sun. Or maybe, dragons.

He was evacuated to a hospital in Germany where at last they told him. He would not fight another war. War was over for him. The light in that former Nazi hospital was penetrating, cutting into his soul, his spirit.

The girl gradually faded. One day there, then she was gone. He didn’t even notice her leaving.

Morning Abandon

Tags

dreams, loss, love, morning, waking

Wiggling his toe (it is
cold, numb with
sleep), he
feels light scan the
surface of his
mind, it shines
like the dream he has
to abandon, like
the wisdom of
his insensate paradise,
like you.

On the Outside Looking

Tags

ambition, art, creativity, cycles, dark, dreams, inspiration, journey, passion, path, poetry, shadow, speech, spirit, wisdom, writing

On the outside looking

in, our stomachs

cavernous with greed,

we despair

of finding the feasting

others, all those others, seem

to have. We

live among the garbage

of our dark, corpulent night, missing

the music, and the laughter,

and the gladness,

not seeing, not hearing,

missing what we have,

ourselves.

 

Spring at Last

Tags

cycles, dark, humanity, journey, life, light, mystery, NaPoWriMo, path, poetry, shadow, spirit, values

There was a man tonight
at Delaware and State,
setting up his camera
on a tripod.

Cars drove by, people many
arm in arm walked by,
some stopped to say,
“Nice evening, eh?”
“Yes,” the man would say,
stopping what he was doing,
“we’ve got spring at last,
don’t we?”

Someone stepped out of
the shadow, asked,
"Taking the picture just
for yourself?” His breath was
fruity with drink, his walk
unsteady, but he was nice.

“I was married in that church,”
the man replied, “thirty years ago 
today.” The younger man
stumbled, found his footing.
“I turned twenty-five today."
The man pushed the shutter
on his camera. “You’re
young enough to be
my son,” he said kindly,
and turned away.

Feeding the Thousands

Tags

Christianity, church, death, Holy Week, journey, knowledge, life, mystery, NaPoWriMo, passion, path, poetry, religion, source, spirit, wisdom

What is faith that it

feeds the thousands, with

strength infuses us

and solace in the dark

nights of the soul,

that rises

when we sink,

finds us when we lose

ourselves, lights

the way when the going

is roughest, and

in the core of

our hearts kindles

hope, sometimes, even

love and

joy?

The Gift

Tags

creativity, inspiration, language, life, myth, NaPoWriMo, poetry, speech, spirit, writing

Not often

but when it comes,

words are suddenly freighted

with omen and

forethought,

nature speaks, rocks

and valleys,

the very flowers

tender on the bough

are all agog with mystery,

with palpitating joy,

and this life-shorn heart

beats, beats again

with life’s parturient fire,

the gift of ancient gods,

our immortal

spirit.

Innocence

Tags

ambition, journey, NaPoWriMo, poetry, spirit, wisdom

Not marble this, not

monument stone,

not star stuff, not

blazing sun,

a woman, man or

child is tenderer and

sweeter, though

we morph ourselves into

giants, warriors, slaves,

lords of creation or

fools,

we are our

own measure,

our stunning

innocence.

So Many Dreams We Dream

Tags

dark, dreams, journey, NaPoWriMo, path, poetry, shadow, wisdom

 

So many ways men

and women see the world,

so many eyes, so many lips that

say what they see,

so many reasons,

so many themes,

so many, many ways

we travel far

to try new worlds,

to find new lives

we leave too soon

this solid earth,

we dream

so many

ways.