on and on

Unafraid to love
nothing comes of  love except strength
love is never lost, it is
as light of a star, travels on and on
across a universe within each of us
and like starlight in the deep and  resonant night
it might reach a searching heart
some seeker of passion
and glow in their eyes

Volta

an emptiness, sands of  waterless seas

flat pan of ground lipped , beyond

whence I cannot see, beyond its edge

(--)as if the edge of this little world(--)

and lifeless too, defiant of search, reason ,

even madness of a season adrift in thought

as a dance of sun and shadow

incites an urge to spoken words- they too

drift beyond me unheard-

an essence of man and meaning

gone adrift into thinness- a sense of

missing air…

I watch the woman who fills my breath

slowly turn, she walks away…

then grit and pebbles take places of flowers

shadows as gold on the skin of the sea

sands weathered by eons of near stillness

roll like tides to shore,  sensed aromas of brine

sweetness of night blossoms

and memories of this soundless place

witness to silent thunders of missiled meteors

become the music of  lush green valleys

gurgled, cascaded, wind rushed and bird sung…

...she walks away...

night births a flower, petals strewn at my feet
Oh moon, an austere presence  redeemed

into paradise

A poem for the next five minutes

Ann said “I would die for my country

for my kids and my country…” and some

few - in an insect nuisance manner- picked and pecked.

Ahhhh  Ann, oh my, so sassy, so SHEroic,
so full of antipathy for those small minds
that seem to crawl up our ankles to bite
and make us itch—irritating sons of a bitch--
like human No-see-ums

and then their thoughts
a roll of nerdish, troll-ish polysyllabic gibberish

sophistry pretended by  mere grunts and ass-scratch

But Ann-
Of course, we would die for our country
our enemies give us no choice
they kill us for our country.
On the battlefield there used to be
a kind chivalry or gallantry
nobles once jousted til a fall
but in Japan for millennia it was heads that fell
deadly serious stuff
then the English also got tough, counter-revolt
burned churches full of people
We kicked their asses back across the Atlantic then
but now play nice (--) ahhh,  Diana
you were the only Royal I was crazy for
the rest are simply crazy to believe
they are God's gift...I mean if George III
was dropped on his head as a Baby—

I'd think George Bush was too (--)

Ahh Ann, I have the concentration of pregnant flea
what was I saying-- ahh yes

those little vipers and snipers

those who know there is no God
that a Black President must be guilty
of something[ bin Laden, Benghazi,  been something!!!...]

I pity them

so small these minds and in such a big world of possibility
them stuck in a time warp:  myth of white superiority
[shit haven't you seen Mitt Romney!!!] WTF--- anyway

we die

for Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann
for the draft dodging Chicken Hawks:
Bush, Romney, Cheney and a cast of bastards
who send our children to die for their money.

We die for street thugs who'd bust a cap in our ass
to steal a car because their  broke-dick
sorry selves can’t buy one

We die for lying lawyers, cheating CPA's
bankers who steal from other bankers who have already stolen
for priests who assault young boys, flaming
assholes who want women to die because they dislike choice

We die, for the slaves who were kidnapped, raped and murdered-
worked to early death to make America rich;
we die for dead heroes of wars and their children
orphans and for women who raise families alone
only to be told they are worthless

--PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, said Romney that little MITT--

We die for Corporate People who neither hunger nor bleed

nor leave orphans

We die for faith in hope, for hope's dying sake
we give up our mortal hold

and know that only by love
of the despicable and the beautiful
the angelic and demonic, the prideful
and the humble  by every billion-breathed creature
only by love-- do we live on.

Autumn sonnet

we mourn the passing warmth ‘tis all but done;

and grieve as if we didn't already know

the faithful trace of gifts left by the sun

were etched in veins by days of  golden glow.

Inside the lush full covers, leafed and green

by whispers from the  heart of dearest star

a red and yellow season lay unseen

like wind blown rainfall pelting from afar.

In deserts treeless stands the singing sands

bring haunting tones of flowing wind and dunes

where seasons in apposition expand

beneath the face of ever changing moon

as passing warmth, does slowly ebb away

the beautied bones of summer glide and sway

healing

A broken spirit found a time

that healed important things

when Angels made their handiwork

upon vestments of disbelief.

Those who shivered felt warmth

those in emptiness, learned new hope

and the satisfied learned the beauty

of want and need:  how life

is a race to stay close upon the heels of time.

A broken spirit healed without prayer

or admission, for there is no cause

or defense for Love(--) it is the first atom(--)

it is the best and last of us.

a circle in wait

A star is born; a star dies.

Bathed in throes of birth and death

a cold heaven neither shivers nor shakes,

but simply gleams bursts of life.

Whether first or last,

into a circle in wait-

bounds yet to be reached.

Beginning to end, fire and flame

frightful waves of power

and all that can be exists within such moments(--)

powers of creation(--) wherein will is an absent vapor,

love without the pale;

yet when such a creature-a  love burdened life- beholds

then the cycle winds itself  anew.

For it is then that love infects the stream

and a dream begins to live.

edge of a flower

She has wandered far from faith

far from a  day when her world

folded within  a sweet Holy song;

followed  heels of an old priest

the old church, the whole family

layered like the ages of Earth

far from belief

where now we seem to be fools in folly

when death takes love and

time leaves us empty.

Time is a perfecting tide

come to erase random prints on shore

a choice remains -within us,

in the strength given our arms-

do we rise…or drown

She has wandered far from me

and I grieve, as in those takings,  

a wall like finality, separations

that bar another word, another

kiss; and recall when she sang

that little song of great faith for me.

Sweetness of a child in the apse,

an inheritance of hope…

wandered far….Now I must

have faith for two, reflect hopes of many. The love

that comes after tears, after the leavings, after

echoes of  door close

 She has wandered far,

while I hold a faith in happiness-

like the edge of a flower - and wait.