Categories
2020 American Place New Mexico Poems

Footsteps in the past

These heavy feet
Burdened by ghosts
Of my grandfathers

Reminding history
Like wispy shackles
Dragging stowaways

On my ankles
Through my forest trek.
As walking in

Their steps of old
Ice cold conditions
Better gear for me

But me and my
Cold feet must carry
The miles of quiet.

My youngest son
Reminds me that
The 10 miles I

Journeyed were but
One day of 10
Miles for months

For the souls
That took upon
The Oregon Trail.

I’ll keep my hot
Coffee and my
Pastoral thoughts

And I will sleep
On my memory foam
Mattress!

Categories
2020 Garden Psalms New Mexico Poems

frond

Fushia on pale blue-green
Umbra to sage, or better yet
— cactus-colored…
The green of the desert floor
Giving way to disease and decay.
A brilliant burning out with one
valiant effort
The bright colors of its
luscious burgundy flower’s
fruit flaring away
like a New Mexico sunset.

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place Breaking Muse Garden Psalms New Mexico Poems

Cold Slice

Southernly winter Sun
Rises slow, casting
Angular shadows sideways
To the north

Cold morning fires burn
A smoky film releasing
Over the city, creeping
Down the valley

As the day progresses
Mountain’s depth revealing
Ridges and crevaces opening
To the warmth

Cold slice of Watermelon

Categories
2020 Garden Psalms Poems

My Heart Is A Circle

Circles are always complete
even if they are bent, shaken
or twisted.

They remain connected even
as gravity pulls at them
and warps them.

No matter how this world spins
and bends and twists us; together,
You and I remain circular.

Categories
2020 Ars Poetica Breaking Muse Garden Psalms Poems

Burst Your Bubble

My head, it splits
Like waves on
The barren shore
Bubbling oxygenation
As the brack
Settles into sand
And air escapes
Once again, gurgling
Out of the semi-solid surface.
My inspiration
Captured in bubbles
For brief moments — real!
In the end, a burst
Of emptiness, vapid dreams
Hollow constructions
Radiating energy but
Alas — empty…
These words, all that remain
Of the membrane of H2O
Clinging together desperately,
Delicately capturing a
Breath of life and then
Exuberantly
Exhaling it to the world.
Captive for one moment
Before being shared with
Every living thing.
The poem, the word of being.

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place New Mexico Poems

Silent

1.
Silent. Snow
On the ground.
No noise.
Not wind.
Not Bird.
Only the
Occasional
Dropping of water
From the trees.
“Da-lop”
Large, heavy
Beads hitting
Deep beds
Of white.
Then suddenly
“Kur-plasch!”
A whole
Snowball.
Cold radiating
From the
Blinding ground
Steaming
From mid-day sun
Casting
Saw blade shadows
From cactus fronds
On the blank canvas.

2.
Silent!
Mountainside
No wind
Only the
Ringing,
Singing
In my ears
And the heavy
Drumbeat
Of my
Overextended
Heart
Palpitating
Out of my
Chest as
I stop
And breathe.
I listen
And hear
Nothing!
The forest
Still, until
The brief
Drop of water
That “blips”
And returns
To the white
Cold canvas.

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place New Mexico Poems

Look Down

To Ascend
To summit
To take to
The high ground
No shelter here
Only vigilance
Every footfall
An icy opportunity
For mass and gravity
To take swing
And change
Your orbit to
Down
“Watch your step”

Categories
2020 American Place Poems

Dwelling on the Past

I saw the
Volcanoes 3
In front of me
History

I saw the
Heavenly Stars
The Light from These
History

I saw
The thoughts
In my head
The reflections
They said,
“History”

My Present
Human Being
Exists in
The Past

I build the Future here.

Categories
2020 American Place Poems

At your service

What does it mean to serve?
To be in the service of another
To wash the feet and tender oil
To sit with the weak as they pass
To lend shoulder to grief while it lasts

Or do you help my day?
To be there when the toilet’s clogged again
To put my squeaky car back on the road
To come to my rescue in my grave hour
To bless my wedding or baptize my child

Or perhaps action’s calling?
To serve when duty beckons you to arms
To shield your brother’s harm from far away
To protect the unknown with your own life
To put back the pieces when peace finally comes

Or to relieve the woes of folks?
To social workers holding back the brink
To the nurse whose hour saves a child’s life
To the lottery winners who tip a grand
To those who help others with nothing asked
‘Cept
“How can I help you?”

Categories
2019 American Place Arizona Garden Psalms Poems

Mustang

When we
were out
on desert snow

Up top
our fair
equestr’an mounts

We saw
A lone
Ghostly Mustang

Upon
the hill.
Whiplashing mane

White

Like snow
It flows
flurry over muscle

Watch’d us
ride by
then off
with a stride

Chasing after Freedom

Categories
2019 Ars Poetica Breaking Muse Footnotes Poems Why

A poem

A poem
Is a feast for strangers
From the future
A poet is a fortune teller
From the present
Seemingly prescient
Presently misunderstood.

Categories
2019 Albuquerque American Place Breaking Muse Poems

Break the day

The sun is slow
To rise here.
Obscured by
Eastern peaks
Light streams and flails
Rails and breaks forth
Across the valley first
Then the waking city…
“Wake Up!”
A thousand eyes
Are above you
Looking down
Reaching the light
Before it’s even near you.
Floating, clusters
Of characters, colors,
Bursts of enthusiasm
Blanketing the sky.

“Did Balloon Fiesta start today?”

Categories
2019 American Place Garden Psalms Poems

Piedra Lumbre

It’s easy to see
Why Georgia O’Keefe
Landed in Abiquiu.
All these cowboy clouds
and sunshine smiles
So much painting to do.

Rosie red arches
And sulfur burning
With Yellowing tongues
Rising, Lashing out
Lapping up lapis
Skies, with brushes swung

Heavy oil to evoke
American dream.
A land growing lost
To the lush beauty
She acquired on
blank sheets of canvas.

”Stone of lumination.”

Categories
2019 American Place Breaking Muse Garden Psalms Poems

Poets Bureau

The poet stands sentinel, memory of the City.

I am needed in the streets. Town crier. Breaking Muse. Calling forth the words of this generation. MindScribe. Writing into the minds of the people; making them remember to be free.

We must compose a new poetry.
Democratic verses
aspiring towards
our words in
common.

Categories
Garden Psalms Hearts Quartet Poems

Philos (1)

Words
No need
We too can
Sit so silently
Contemplative
No need for words
We two commun-icate
Hundreds stories common
Psychic in the way we need not
say a single thing. Under
standing that
not even time matters between
spaces long
between our Sharings. Quantum
entanglement
perhaps. No matter, “I am glad you are here.”

Categories
American Place Garden Psalms

Dead Horse

The Skull
from The Mountains
Bullet Hole
between the eyes
Whole body
puzzle of bones

Bone broken
on winter’s pass
Burden taken
under human foot
Friend fallen
Last farewell

Friends taken
to the woods
Too early
for human foot
Skull‘s burden
Taken home

To rest

A week in the Chama River valley

Categories
American Place Ars Poetica Garden Psalms

It speaks to you

I went to buy a book of poems
Hearts, identities, wants, failures
Scattered across pages, books, shelves of books, shelves of
poetic thrashings

Awaking from the same bad dream, writing the same bad poetry
that releases your free will to subjugation and lies
dormant in the pithy pulp, poet after poet
screaming unto no one, until

“I’ll take this one”

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place New Mexico Poems

Sojourn

A place is just a place
Until it is your home
And when you are leaving
All your memories come along

But a place is just a place
When its people are not near
And in this place your place is missed
By those who hold you dear

But a place still holds your place
When you are far from here
It waits to welcome back
Sojourners who can hear

The calling of that place
And those who keep it warm
With memories of communion
Who await with open arms

Categories
2020 Poems

Orbits

I found myself
Gripping my pencil
So tightly that
My wedding ring
Was causing pain
To shoot down my finger

—breathe—

Stopped long enough
To pay attention
And relax.

Another estimation
Of my repetitions
Not sure if it
Is a descent
Or a final
Ascension to
New heights so
That I might
Get a better
Point of view
My circling
Routine must
Be leading to
Something besides
Its own orbit.