Categories
2021 American Place New Mexico Poems

I must be in the right place

The blue screen won’t load
The news is old
The fire is hot
The coffee is cold

I must be in the right place

The wind whistles through the trees
The air wheezes as I breathe
The dirt is dirty with blackest soot
The trees have fallen exposing roots

I must be in the right place

I am in the write place
With time to think
And craft this space
With smoke in my eyes there’s time to blink

I must be in the right place

With many miles and tires worn
My skin the sun seeks to absorb
The camp is set, the children fed
No fingers, smashed, no nothing bled

I must be in the right place

Categories
2021 Albuquerque American Place Bird Song Poems

Won’t Run From Love

Sly, daring, road running
Time of Love, not quite spring
But the waning days of winter sing
Of the promise — A Whisper
Of the returning season
Of raising a new generation
Of cunning birds…
This one with Lizard in mouth
An offering for his devote
Lifemate and lover.
In the road they dance
And show that they have
No patience for the changing clime
Rare to take flight, in pursuit he might
Soar from rooftop to rooftop.
With coos, clicks and beeps
He woos his sweet and as we pass
They pay no mind to our kind.

Categories
2021 Ars Philosophica Poems

Grocery List

Always out of
Toilet paper
Never enough
Dish soap
We just ran out of
Dog food
Can’t wash my hair
Without shampoo
Why are we so concerned
With all these things
What if we cared as much
About caring
Seems like this list of what
We’ve run out of
Needs to include more things
Like Love
We sure could use some
More compassion
We seem to have run out of that
Thing called peace
We need to see if we can find more
Forgiveness
Maybe if we could find some
Strength
We could get through the day without
All this Hate

Categories
2021 American Place Poems Utah

A Horse Named “Unlucky”

Boys are dumb and I was one.
My brother yet another…
Having started our vacation in canyons
With adventures beyond our imagination
My brother and I headed out for a walk
Into the sandstone curves of Arches’ rocks.
Taller and faster he tracked on ahead
And separated we became instead.
Too far out to go back, without the
Brother I lacked, I kept searching around ’til
I found him at the edge of a sweeping bowl.
And, down deep in that hollowed out hole
Laid the scattered bones of a horse that
Became known as “Unlucky.”
Fascinated by this find, into that hole we climbed
Only to leave ourselves with no escape route.
After hollers and shouts, our luck too had
Run out and we resolved to settle
In for the night. Our backs to the wall
We sat with whistles to blow
Tunes as our call out for help.
As day finished up and the sun drifted
Down, it’s hard to know how long we
Chirped. Long enough that our Mom, full
Of worry, dragged Dad out to search
For these dumb boys who kept running off.
These whistles that they bought us
For just such a cause had led them
Unto our holey predicament. Mom found us
In our hole, with our backs against the wall,
Chirping like birds getting ready for the night.
Our father she found to haul us out of
The ground, too happy to scold,
These boys they raised to be bold.

From the Journal of Judy Sutherlin

Categories
American Place Guest Writers

From the Journals of Judy Sutherlin

1979 – Tues. July 17 – Awake at 6:55 AM – We took sponge baths & had breakfast cereal – Stephen fell out of bed last night or was sleep walking.—He doesn’t remember – Broke the chain on vent so had to repair it — Jim didn’t smash himself this morn. He says it feels better — boys played ball away by 9:50 — Red Rock area pretty — then Gallup – gas – 10.5mpg – Bah! Straight up to Ship Rock – Lunch at Table Mesa rest stop — getting warm now. (Missing the trailer toilet facilities) – at Ship Rock finally had potty stop & got ice – 15.5 mpg – better! No air conditioning made the difference. So drove from Cortez on into Canyonlands before Moab before  turning the air on – Dad took nap while mom drove — hilly — bad roads into Utah – Pretty tho – Monticello pretty town with nice park – didn’t stop tho til Wilson’s Arch – 3:50 got our candy bars – Mom tired! Dad took over – boy did air cond. feel good. Moab was unique looking – nestled in amongst the Canyons & the Colorado River running by. Got to Arches in good time – about 5:30 – 18 mi. back in – we were so proud we got there & set up. Realized Randy had locked trailer door – No key – Mom went looking for boys who were climbing & got stuck in a pit – all were sick about trailer. Everyone tried to pick lock – Had given up & decided to stay w/o the door in – when Stephen Miraculously announced he opened it. Couldn’t believe it. Wind really picked up – but cooled things down – Mom fixed grilled sirloin steak – mashed Pot., salad – Dad took boys on MC Ride before dinner & after dinner Mom got a ride to watch the sunset while  boys did the dishes – 1st time – Mom was surprised to learn there are many Arches – not just one. Beau is sure being a good dog this trip – Not always on chain & staying close in. He’s doing better than the boys who run off every chance – They do love Canyons – All went to Ranger talk – Delicate Arch is really Landscape Arch & Visa Versa – Many comical errors in the formation of park – Became Nat’l Monument 1929 – Nat’l Park 1971. To bed by 10:00 – we’re all exhausted!

A Horse Named “Unlucky”

Categories
2021 Albuquerque American Place Poems

Assailant One

Perception is not reality
Just ask The Mountain
She is an illusion…

Presenting herself
Like a bear on hind legs
Much grander much
Bigger – A whole lot
More terrifying.

But the mountain lies…
Not One Mountain at all
Many (mini) Mountains
Each requiring its own
Accent.

Each of a scale and
Magnitude to fatigue
The sojourner who seeks
To run his toes through her
Sands.

She is grand, but
Not how she seems
From a distance.
From afar, un-assailable!

Yet, peel away her layers
And you may find a
Passage unto her loving
Bosom.

Categories
2021 Albuquerque American Place Bird Song Poems

Golden Boughs

The trees acknowledge me
Nodding their heads
In the breeze

Contrasted pillars
Of black and white
Glowing golden

Packed full of
Black birds
Suddenly silent

Then bursting away
In a tightly packed
School of flight

Growing calls
Of the animals
Preparing for the night

Herons tall
And purple
Pecking their evening meal

As little perfection
Can be found in this world
This moment, one–

Lifts my spirit and
Makes me bound
Giddy as a child called to home.

Categories
2021 American Place Breaking Muse Poems

American Eulogy

American EulogyWe weep
We weep
We cry
We seek
Meaning
For our
Reverend
And our lost
So many
So many
We knew
Intimately
Now gone
Now gone
To this
Viral cause
Sisters
Brothers
Fathers
Mothers
Our uncles
Grandmas
Our friends
And lovers
Few have been
Untouched
By this Angel
Of Death
Their flags
They fly
Cross the
Capitol sky
So many
Lights in
Reflections
Tonight
Now tamped
Out and
With our prayers
Take flight
Our river
Of tears
Pour on
Pour on
So many
Great Lives
Cut short
In their stride
We call out
Their names
We share
Their good deeds
A chorus
This mourning
Leaves us
All in need
Let us pray

Categories
2021 Ars Philosophica Ars Poetica Breaking Muse Poems

Fire Was The Last One To Read This Book – I

I – Book of Matches

Theme, Tone, Meter
Subject so
Illusive

Matters, meanings
And Moments
Illustrative

We have relinquished our
place at the council table

We have forsaken our
Duty to protect the arts

We have been overcome
By our own eviscerating criticism

We have severed the artisan’s
Hand from the corporal community

We have left them behind
To suffer the brutality of the mob

They have come to the Library
With torches — Our Words

Read In Fire

Categories
2021 Ars Philosophica Ars Poetica Breaking Muse Poems

Fire Was The Last One To Read This Book – II

II – Fire Song

The Pages tumbled
Off the shelf
Waterfall —
Firefall
Fire
Burns
Tumbles Pages back up
Full of Flames
The words read
One last time
by Fire
Falls
Fire
Burns
Pages tumble and whirl
In tornadoes
On Fire, Words
Consumed for
The last time
by fire
Falls
Fire
Burns
Swirls with sparkles
Of the Sun
Consuming One
Last time
Our words
by Firefalls
of Fire
Burning books
Consuming
One
Last
Time — Our words
Burn

Categories
2020 Ars Poetica Breaking Muse Poems

Two Towers

Standing behind the crowd in the
Auditorium, looking down at
The Wasteland and more importantly
The Poet on a pedestal who
We were in awe to see. We bow
And say blessings to the lord of the
Modern moment where everyone realized
We were doomed. That the industrial gloom
Would blacken our minds as it had
Already blackened our lungs
And blinded our windshields
Our eyes in the dim lit neon spectacles, wept.
This was my experience from the lectern.
And I worshipped for many years the
Quartets and the high-minded — I don’t
Understand — Get the Encyclopedia — language

But, this was
Modern?

Now
I reckon
upon
a more clearly modern mind

Here
I find
The Red

Wheelbarrow
And a delicious
Plum

And I am
completely
satisfied

By nothing too Mythic
At all (save Unicorns & Beasts)
Just A
Waterfall

Of images
and words
That float along on pages

The rhythm
Tapping its foot – – –
Variably – – – –

Changing
Before you know it
You don’t know it
You don’t know why

It has changed
But it feels
So right.

Justified on the page to fit
Left and right
Right and wrong
Tomorrow and Goodnight

The Wanderer
The Sparrow
The Woman
The River

The Man
The City
The Poet
Founder

Of the plain
Every day
And therefore
Devotionally and divine poem.

Categories
2020 American Place Poems

Winter’s Day

Winter is here
Mid-
Winter
If you
Live someplace cold

Cold is here
Morning
Ice
Muffin tops
Made of glass

Glass window
Draped
In fog
Glowing
With Christmas colors

Colors everywhere
This time of year
A light
To bring you
Through the dark winter night

Categories
2020 Bird Song Poems Winter

Midwinter

3 Robins
in a bush

Murder of Crows
On the roof

In search
Of water

In search
Of food

Winter’s
Here

Hunger
Soon

Categories
2020 Poems

Sitting by the Window

The old man sits
His accomplishments
In his lap

A bag of
Memories and triumphs
Moments and epiphanies

He is alone
Now, sometimes unable to
Make sense of the bundle

He opens it
Rummages for one
To abate his longing

No longer relevant
All of his virile impressions
Are now gathered here

A wish to silence
The depression, the anger
With one last victory

And, if some passerby
May find him here
He would always share

For the stories
Of these deeds
Were all he has left
…to give…

Categories
Poems

Fire

Logs don’t lie
They burn
Or they lay still
Awaiting combustion or some
Shape made useful by the knife.

Its life knows first the tree
Then the use at least to fall
Back into soil for the next generation.

But, burn it must
To kindle inspiration for
What greater things we can create.

The power of industry
To Cook
To Forge
To Kiln —

The fire burns in the human spirit
Raging for us
To free ourselves
From the blue light
Of the black box
That consumes
Our waking moments.

Categories
Poems

Ambitious

Two Woodpeckers
Came by today
For food
And water
Spangled with white stars
and red stripes
They chased off
Red-hooded finches
And Chestnut-colored sparrows
To get the best peck
At the suet and the seed
–They comfort me–
Ambitious!
Certain.

Categories
2020 Breaking Muse Poems

Honey

Waking
My consciousness comes
In globs of Honey

Amber capsules
Holding the
Last vestiges of my dreams

Dropped and drawn
Into the moments
Of what the day may bring

Interspersed
With darkness–
With sleep…

The bending on a
Dali Clock
Stilled and stopped

Time travel
before it
Begins again
–at 7:10

Categories
2020 Poems

A little longer

The Fall Casts
False shadows
That last
A little longer
Than the one before

And
At the
Door
Knocks Autumn

But
You’re still dressed for Summer
And you’ll catch the death
of cold
“Don’t cha know?”
Yet she still shows
her flowers
Burgeoning
after showers
Surging in the morning light

Yes, Autumn bright and
warm in
the afternoon
of our farewells
(to Summer).

Categories
2020 American Place New Mexico Poems

The Noisy Silence

I sat in a quiet place
Deep in the woods
Very far away
From humans and their
Vibrating city’s sounds
The constant swish of
Cars driving down her streets.

But more than that, the
Prattle and chat of voices gone
There were no songs
Of city birds, fattened and sure
That water and the next meal would come.

No, not the hum of crickets
Not the buzz of flies and mosquitoes
No, nothing to break the sounds
Of my own thinking.

So, when a sound is made
A woodpecker, hawk
or Owl’s tirade, does
Tear the silence into full awareness—
Your mind plays tricks and
Fills the silence with
Sounds of worry, fear and dread.

For the next sound that plays
Will surely be more deadly
Than a bird fetching its morning meal.

Categories
2020 American Place New Mexico Poems

Into The Woods

Into the woods
The end of summer
Into cold morning
A gleeful glimmer
of a night without incident…
Nothing to prevent
Our awakening
of senses, primordial
Long forgotten, guttural
need for fire and food.

A great horned owl
awakens me from my
darkened state
with the call to its mate
to breakfast.
Brings my morning thoughts around
to the food we hauled up
off the ground
into a tree to ward
off bears out hungry.

A long winding walk, heavy
packs but light thoughts
down to the river’s edge we made.
With campfire rings and
the desire to sing
we make tales of what
adventure bring.

Categories
2020 American Place New Mexico Poems

Longitudinal Awareness

Longitudinal Awareness
Not really a thing —
Not spatial, more sensory
The open capillary of mental exercise
A receptor that activates once in the wild
A slower foot, a surer step
Knowing that it is too quiet
While noting every sound.
The calls of the creatures
No room for mistakes, so
you lay awake wondering if it
be predator or varmint
Alive
Open
Receiving
Consciousness
Ready for the surprises
Except for your own
Mental illness

Categories
2020 American Place Bird Song New Mexico Poems

Dead on Arrival

Migratory Birds
Dying by the 1000s
Warblers
Western Wood Pewee
Fly Catchers
Bluebirds
Blackbirds
Sparrows
—sorrow
Stumbling dumbly
Into the streets
Hit by cars
Falling
Out of
Trees 🌳
Starved
Of nutty energy
Not enough fuel to complete
A journey taken too soon…
For fires 🔥 raged
And burned their homes
Smoke fills the air
And burns their lungs
Away away away away
Into the dry desert sun
Only to keel over
Mid-way through their run
It’s not the apocalypse
Yet, one might blame…the devil
Climate change with dead bird denial!

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place Poems

The Alacrity of Spiders

O, happy kill
And with pure will
The tiny Widow
Hauls whole snails
Down below
To feed her sacks
Of tiny brats
By the hundreds
They will flow
Into my dreams
Reminding me though
There are things
I do not like!
Like counting spiders
Through the night
Who creep and sneak
And crawl to fright me
Out of my slumber cold.
Though I’m not their prey
A snack they may
Make from me
In the morning light.
(But, truly they were never there…
Just in my dreams and
Awakened stares
Taking from me my
Restful delights.)

*Alacrity – Not a common word for most. I stole it from William Carlos Williams. “Brisk and cheerful readiness.”

Categories
2020 Poems

Tripping

Cars roll by monotonously
— A long trip, swoosh after swoosh
Numbing rhythm won’t let you sleep
Car after truck after car a
Pulsing circulatory system
Of Human consciousness

But each day is a car
As we stay home for
The sixth month in a row
How could we know that
We should have packed a snack
For this longest of journeys
No end in sight to this
Trip down Covid Lane.

Categories
Poems

Anniversary

Orchids;

  Rope after rope

of Marigolds

Fuchsia tapestry

    Dancing to the fast fingers

of the solo guitarist

Black Bird

    “Take these broken wings”

“We are gathered here to leap”

Like your brother and cousin

    So small (now grown)

Splashing water in 99º

The gathering

    With hand fans

waving to the beat (the heat)

As we assemble everyone

      who cherish us

to bear witness

To our love —

      The Souls Mate

The couple hitched

And at 17

      This life has grown

Into One

I no

      longer know

Myself

Without

  seeing

    you smile!

Categories
Poems

17

Old oak,

  Varnish and chrome,

      Stability;

      Longitude.

Why buy

    New Furniture

    for Anniversary?

Shouldn’t it just

        be solid

        Antique?

What better

        to recall

a time when

“Things”, like

            relationships,

were better made.

Not angry

        and fashionable

          like the mob,

But the

    Old Oak Tree;

    Reminding Me

That patience

              and time spent cherishing

              the things

We already have

           is what make

    Great these

Long-lasting

  Moments

Categories
Poems Shapes

Please Explain

“Perhaps I am a dull reader; if so, these matters can be explained.
And in fairness to me they must be explained—if not by Dr. Wil-
liams, then by some modern prosodist sympathetic to Dr. Wil-
liams’s method.” H.C.

Yes, I am
Sympathetic to
the random form

The triadic
flow. We’re
sorry it causes you

So much
confusion. I
quite like the

Dalian comparison though
If my lines
could drip

Off the pages
and flow back
into the river

I would
have accomplished
My Art.

 *April 8th, 1950. “Dr. Williams’s Paterson” Hayden Carruth - Studies in Paterson
Categories
2020 Poems Shapes

Elementary

The River Never Thinks To ask?
“Where are We going?”
The Rocks Firmly Saying “STAY!”

Caught Between,
In this Eddy
Choice The Sole Task

None Ever Seem Ready
Hold Your Ground Or
Let This Pass

“Every action has an
opposite and equal reaction”

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place New Mexico Poems Road Less Travelled

Rio del Ciudad

Her curves cut through him
She is the center of his life
All roads in his city

End upon her shores; Her Mountains
–Earthquakes, Time and her origins–
Embrace him Day and Night

Wind and heat; parch and monsoon
She drinks from the sky
to bring his thirst to an end

He lights Her nights and
bridges her spans
They form this imperfect circle

One man, called by many names
Beeʼeldííl Dahsinil; Arawageeki; Vakêêke;
Alo:ke:k’ya; Gołgéeki’yé — now AL-bə-kur-kee

One woman, loved by the people
mets’ichi chena, posoge, paslápaane
hañapakwa, Tó Baʼáadi, Female River, Great Waters, Rio Grande

Categories
2020 Poems Shapes

Old Songs (for Jimmy)

So far The Distance The Atlantic To The Rio Grande
So Long The Time We’ve spent Drifting apart

The Arts We’ve slipped Away the years
Last Grains To come No chance To turn The Glass
Again Until small smiles Renew our Promise for Potential

Songs are to be written By Old Men Yet sung By the Young
What gifts might the distance bring
As we age and sing with growing wisdom

Categories
2020 American Place Bird Song Poems

Food Fight

Life’s hard enough
On a wintering Eagle
A war to fight for
Every meal
But when this girl
Gets determined
A brutish male makes
No successful appeal

Stands her frosty
Ground again and again
Until one talon slips in-
to the chest
Of her challenger…
Razor requisite
To back away
Assessing mortal
Potential of this
Violent affair

Categories
2020 Breaking Muse Poems Six Pack

Wild Horses

The sign
It says
“Please stay at Home”

Forget your car
Forget your bones

In their closets
They must stay

All your ambition’s
(Fears) —put away

At least for now
At least today…

——

This first time directive
We can collectively recall
To just do nothing
To sit in our stalls

But these American
Mustangs are getting
Restless

We like to roam
We like it breathless

We just don’t know just what to do
When we’re told to stay home
Until this is through

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place Garden Psalms New Mexico Poems

Fireworks in April

The geraniums
I brought in to
Stave off frosted night

Red and white
Fireworks
Bursting in the morning light

Categories
2020 Bird Song Garden Psalms Poems Shapes

Seeds in captivity

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place Garden Psalms Poems Six Pack

if the moon can see my fire

Can the moon see my fire
As it passes over head
Both alight my night
And stave off the dread
Of all those things out
In the the darkness of all
Those things we cannot see
But if the moon can see my fire
I’ll spend the night outwardly

Categories
2020 Poems Shapes

Out Of Sync

It is the Language that will save us.
If the words don’t destroy us first. ~Mindscribe

We are asked to see the world as binary. We are given glasses with only two lenses — polar lenses in opposition of eachother, pulling your eyes with a strain so hard that the only choice is to close one of your eyes. But, we need bifocals at least, though we really use an array of lenses everyday. Ones for work, others for children, bare naked eyes for your lover — “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind” – Ghandi

Categories
2020 Albuquerque Garden Psalms New Mexico Poems

Turning dirt

Turning the dirt
With Great-Grand-Daddy’s plow

Sharecropper’s till
Real familiar somehow

Making quick work
Of my little garden plot

He’d make an acre
Into food they never bought

Traded with the Osage
When he had a good crop

But it never really seems
Like my efforts pay out full

Maybe this year’s different
Using my ancestral tool

Categories
2020 American Place Breaking Muse Poems Six Pack

Canned Goods

Fragile
[boxes]
Bounded up
De-coupling—
Social
Distancing—

Uncomfortable

Pauses

As to what
Qualifies
As normal.
Needing
Canned
Laughter

for
Comfort
Food.

Categories
2020 Albuquerque American Place Breaking Muse New Mexico Poems Six Pack

TP Quarantine

Lockdown
Quarantine
“Keep the door shut.”

Practice
“Social distancing”
Do not touch!

Wash your
Hands for
Twenty seconds

Swab and
Daub and Wipe
down surfaces!

Don’t forget
Don’t touch
Your Faces!

Though we
Won’t need
No toilet paper

For one
Or two
Weeks more

It doesn’t
really matter
‘Cause there’s none left

At
The
Store

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
Who took upon
The Oregon Trail.

I’ll keep my Coffee
Hot and my
Thoughts pastoral

And I will sleep
On my memory-foam
Mattress!

Categories
2020 Garden Psalms Poems Shapes

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 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
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 American Place Ars Philosophica Ars Poetica Breaking Muse Poems

Observer of a New Light Across American Landscapes

We enter
Asking for your attention
The town crier
Speaking of the here
And the now
Present for this expression
Of the hearing
Spoken in clear and present tense
The words of the people
So that they may be heard:
What they say—
How they say—
That we may say about them
And this place; The good
And bad and in-between places
That people go to become their
Very own demonstration of their Human
Being. We are here to write it down.

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
American Place Ars Philosophica Poems

Forged

Without Constraint there is only Chaos,
Without Chaos there can be no Creation.
In between Leaders are forged by the pressure.

Wisdom is knowing the Fire from the Anvil.
Leadership is wielding the Hammer without vanquishing the Flame.

Categories
2021 Poems

WMAO

4 Million steps
On this journey of circles
Around
and Around and
Around
A hamster on the wheel of life
Deleting my center of gravity
One ounce at a time.
But, these travels were not made alone
My constant companions
On the same quest
To chase away
This Angel of Death
Who has cast his dark shadowed
Wing over this Covid World!
We’ve walked long and hard to find
The daylight waiting
At the end of this tubular night.
I’ve never felt better
After years of addictive tendencies
I find myself emerging
From our Mother Earth
Changed…
Once the pale grub in a hole
Now, the Cicada out to sing
The songs of summer!

Categories
2021 Albuquerque American Place Poems

Ghost Town

The City is full of Ghosts
Not the dead kind
The impressions of existence
Left behind.
Rarely do we see the signs
Like Coyote
Never revealing her constant
Presence.
She only comes out when
No one else can observe her.

Yet, as I walk out in the
Quiet snow this morning
An entire ecosystem reveals
its passage by…
The rabbit who I’ve never seen
On my street
Has walked around my car
Looking for what I might
Have dropped to eat.

Many, many people whose paths
Are clear from footprints
In and out of their houses.
The robins and finches who
Have come for morning meal.

All is silent but I know they are there
Revealed by their impressions…

Like Racoon and Coyote
Solo trails without human companion
The handish print and claws
And the canine with no walker.

Categories
2021 Poems

Nevermind what I wanted

I wanted to be a
Rock Star
Drank enough to fall
Out of a car
But the beat, beat me
And the band disbanded

I wanted to be
A Novelist
Drank enough to make
Hemingway blush
But the narrative eluded me
And the book was shelved

Now, I have abandoned the bottle
And picked up my pen
Ever the poet, my poems my friends
Who have never abandoned me
In the moon’s blue light
Whose occasional outburst
Blooms before my sight

Words my salvation
When in anger this day
Softens the danger and
Beckons me to stay
True to my word
In a world that lies
Awake in the darkness
With new lines to try