2020 American Place Poems

Dwelling on the Past

I saw the
Volcanoes 3
In front of me

I saw the
Heavenly Stars
The Light from These

I saw
The thoughts
In my head
The reflections
They said,

My Present
Human Being
Exists in
The Past

I build the Future here.

2019 American Place Arizona Garden Psalms Poems


When we
were out
on desert snow

Up top
our fair
equestr’an mounts

We saw
A lone
Ghostly Mustang

the hill.
Whiplashing mane


Like snow
It flows
flurry over muscle

Watch’d us
ride by
then off
with a stride

Chasing after Freedom

2019 Albuquerque American Place Garden Psalms Poems

Goodbye garden

Goodbye garden
Your time is done;
Late and short
November Sun.

Cut off their heads
and dig their graves;
Before autumn rain
Yields to icy waves.

Last of summer’s
flowers cling;
Removed to tables’
center to sing.

Stow the barrow,
Heat the birds;
“Winter’s coming”
so we’ve heard.

“Want me to start a fire?”

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.

2019 American Place Garden Psalms Poems


Whatever I say, repeats itself.
“Hello!” Hello, Hello, hello…
As my eyes roll over her curves
Arching over me, bending in
Streaks of red and yellow
Broken finally by azure
Sky that offers the only light
Inside this giant bowl dome.
A cathedral, a great place to
hear the violin or guitar. A
Symphony or maybe quartet?
If you sing the canyon songs
You are blessed with a chorus
Of your own voices from
The echo chamber.
“Clouds, oh clouds, speak to me…”

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?”

2019 American Place Poems


Oil over metal
Fuel into fire
Inertia soon released
Smoke off tires
Green lights blink
Foot off clutch
Pedal to metal
Checkered flag rush
Open up throttle
Chaos in control
Chasing white line
Racing’s in your soul!

“Start your engines!”

2019 American Place Breaking Muse Poems

Beautiful Day

Beautiful day
By schedules
Of course
The day
Perfectly happy
To be perfect
Not bothered by my

“Off course, re-routing”

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.”

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

Garden Psalms Hearts Quartet Poems

Philos (1)

No need
We too can
Sit so silently
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
perhaps. No matter, “I am glad you are here.”

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

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”

2020 Albuquerque American Place New Mexico Poems


Silent. Snow
On the ground.
No noise.
Not wind.
Not Bird.
Only the
Dropping of water
From the trees.
Large, heavy
Beads hitting
Deep beds
Of white.
Then suddenly
A whole
Cold radiating
From the
Blinding ground
From mid-day sun
Saw blade shadows
From cactus fronds
On the blank canvas.

No wind
Only the
In my ears
And the heavy
Of my
Out of my
Chest as
I stop
And breathe.
I listen
And hear
The forest
Still, until
The brief
Drop of water
That “blips”
And returns
To the white
Cold canvas.

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
“Watch your step”

2020 Poems


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


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.

2020 Albuquerque American Place Poems

On thin ice

Whipping tail
Chassis loose
On the move
No control
Hope there’s
Behind you now
Pressing forward
Counter balance
Brings you back
To straight lines
With a shimmy ~

2020 American Place Ars Poetica Poems

Ink Think

The only one
who thinks in poetry
is seemingly me.


Perhaps it’s you
who thinks
in broken lines,
metaphors and ink.

But to the rest
I must plainly digress
into lyric rust

For on the shelf
These prisoners ||\|||\
must sit
until they’re unhinged \_/

Or read aloud
to a half-listening crowd

2020 American Place Poems

A “song” is more than a title

So you wrote a poem
And you called it a song
Only counts if you can sing it
Come now let’s hum along

But if it’s just a poem
Then leave it as you wrote
For I don’t need your melody
To stick in my parched throat

But if ye be a singer
Then sing your hearts content
I like to Rage and Hammer on
And scream and bang my head.

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 with soft smile

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
“How can I help you?”

2020 American Place Poems

What do we make of it?

I do not break,
‘Cept for the line,
The cobble stones
Removed by time

I do not build,
‘Cept on the theme,
A lasting home
For my family

What do we make?
With this poetry
Not castle nor treasure
Just memories
Just minuscule
Into the moment
Of the mind’s
Poetic I

2020 American Place Ars Poetica Poems

WCW (Metercratic Oath)

Got it right, got it right
William Carlos Williams
Got it right

The trick is in the meter
solid rhythm, perfect beat
Well balanced measure

Pluck the string elegan’ly
Don’t forget the tercet
A quatrain will suffice

Just keep it in just meter
Or the critics will complain
That you have made no mastery
Of what it is that Williams claimed

Yet me I like my brevity
And dabble in vain rhymes
But The meter,
O the meter
I will take
do no harm.