With Delight!

Life is holy
everywhere holes
as we attempt
to cram dark matter in
for we are an unholy bunch
fearing the unknown
fearing the empty spaces
yet in it all
I seek my holiness
a path
filled with potholes
that I dance around
with delight!

Iron Stars

An iron skillet in one hand
a spatula in the other
two eggs cracked
sunny-side up
a breakfast with an answer
not the chicken
nor the eggs
but the star
that one day
became
an iron skillet.

Talk We Can

Did the universe evolve
from a singular moment
to now
and along the way
life came to life
and evolved
until brains became minds
and how many revolutions
around the sun
before minds began
to speak
and talk we can
for silent
was the universe
for much
too long.

Thinking Thoughts

I open my eyes
to see the ever present ants
trekking about the sand
and me
a solitaire creature
atop a boulder
inactive in body
yet mind moving
as frantically
as ants scrambling
alone
yet with as many memories
stories and meandering thoughts
as the number
of countless ants
I watch.

The Split Reed Trip

The jazz riffs
took him further out
than he'd ever been
until the reed split
the saxophone buzzed
and honked
until a golden vibration
turned the brass around
racing fingertips
to pearly keys
finally
brought him
safely
back home.

Eyes and I

The wind chilled his soul
and the injured finch
in his hand
seemed to look
directly into his eyes
and began to chirp
about a life
of flight
and once a furious chase
and an escape
yet the eyes of the hawk
were never
forgotten.

Bookends

Most will eventually find
the bookends to life
was and are
anticipation and memories
yet for some
the in-between books
are many
while others
have a single book
unfinished
a puzzle
never solved.

The Old Man

A breath
and an ah-ah-ah-choo!
cleared the mind
for all the rest
and after all
when breathless
filled the soul
for yet more
when life seemed
forever more
a cupped hand
enough to scoop
another drink
from
the river of life
now grateful
when other hands
offer
to calm
what once
I could do
myself.

Compassion

He so often felt
compassion for others
and wished
life would be kinder
yet he also felt
ashamed
when his will
was not enough
to transform his feelings
into action.

Happiness

In their work
they gathered beetles
from the floor
of the Amazon basin
just as when
as a kid
he collected crickets
in a Mason jar
along with twigs and leaves
a home for them
as he waited in a darken bedroom
at night for their first chirps
his flashlight caught them
in the act
and since that night
he sought to catch
one more thing
in an empty glass jar
that had eluded
his grasp
until she captured
his heart
and since then
he knew that some things
can't be studied
in glass jars.

Seriously

Seriously
he couldn't abide
by weighty thoughts
for more time than
it took him to gather
his next meal
for what was more serious
food or thought
depending upon
the time of day
or the season
when he approached
his final meals
and discovered
what was necessary
and what
was naught.

In the Details

God is in the details
when everything we build
is constructed
of the same stuff
matter and forces
binding our world
the universe
everything
one atom
one detail
at a time
in order
that you
and I
can see
that
God is
in the
details.

Hidden Inside

It was a mighty explosion
in the middle of nowhere
no one heard it
no one saw it
burst forth
with stars and other stuff
yet hidden inside
were waiting ears and eyes
to hear and see
so that one day
a mind
would wonder
as to how
while another
would wonder
why?

Good and Bad

The little boy
was taught
the difference
between good and bad
by all those
that thought they knew
and even those
that were confused
by themselves
yet acted out
the same drama
that was placed
inside their heads
oh so long ago
and sometime
much later
the young man read
countless books
and daily newspapers
and most of all
talked and walked
with many people
and before he knew it
he recognized
goodness and badness
and more so
all the in
between.

He Wore a Wizard's Cap

He wore a wizard's cap
and those who did not know
thought it a dunce cap
when he spoke
in tongues
that seemed silly to most
but to a few
seemed to understand
that words are like water
that can quench one's thirst
as quick as can drown
the one
who is
not ready.

Just So

Anything is possible
when
and only when
atoms guided by
invisible forces
fit together
just so
and will fit no other way
until bodies and minds
that think
yet can not think
in ways that atoms
and forces
do not allow
so that all that exists
can only exist in ways
that fit
just so
except for minds
that imagine
before atoms
before forces
began their work
and who it was
that created
all this monkey business
in
the
first
place.

The To Do LIst

Where did I put it
my to do list
was missing
and here I was
in the middle of the desert
with a ball-point pen
and no paper
but that was the least
of my worries
as I watched the thunderstorm
off in the distance
and only my rucksack
on my back
filled with enough jerky
to hold me over until
I tired of trail mix
and water enough
or so I thought
for the autumn day
was cool with only hints
of what could come
if I continued to hike
beside the ancient dry river bed
in search of petroglyphs
that I imagined
from the distant storm
would hold clues
to a raging muddy river
that took ancient lives
and those that survived
scratched on rocks
of a river that came
without warning but for
a roar that stopped
hearts in their tracks
and in my cargo pants
I searched again
and lo and behold
the to do list
was in hand
as I read the last
of the scribbled lines
and it said
in case of flash flood
disregard
all
of the above.

Bees

Listen
to the buzz
in the breeze
on a warm
summer day
when blossoms
fill the air
with hints
of honey
on winter toast
to come.

Wrestling

Wrestling for me
has always been
a tiring enterprise
the childhood skirmishes
on the front lawn
usually brought on
by perceived slights
the high school match
strength versus strength
is why I found chess
more to my liking
until I met my match
when my mind struggled
until it had no more to give
then I began wrestling
with words
and soon like Jacob
I would awake exhausted
from wrestling with angels
or God?
I still do not know
yet daily I arise
and so far
I do not limp.

Values Are

Values are 
what I think they are 
or let others
tell me 
what they are 
some believe God
planted inside each mind
conscience
the arbitrator of ought and not
while others believe evolution 
created 
by the process of elimination 
when oughts survived 
and nots 
died.

Before Books Became Bricks

They no longer read books
long ago 
they were used as bricks
to build shelters
and some still stand
although the dwellers 
have long disappeared
without a trace
as to who they were
yet the brick ruins
hold inside
the complete history
of all those that lived 
before books 
became 
bricks.

Comb the Web

We
the secret revealers
comb the web
gathering clues
to those long forgotten
that once faced cameras 
recording slices of time 
that once were real 
an old man reciting poetry
to a hidden audience
countless landscapes 
cityscapes
animals 
with all too many
people
frozen in time
silent minds 
with stories
never to be told.

Fair or Not?

And yet
life is so fair
that one 
can imagine 
what truth is
and with imagination 
live life 
from beginning to end
just as the mind
imagined it 
would and should
be.

Summer Winds

Summer winds blow
to caress
young maidens
walking on seashores
as waves
ebb and flow
and sandpipers dance
to the sweep
of white foam
and seagulls cry
in shifting winds
while young men
everywhere
dream of young maidens
with naked toes
on wet sand
dreaming of days
that will
never
end.

The Poet

He was one of those
who squeezed sentences
until all the unneeded words
fell to the ground
and what were left
were carefully arranged
until silent words
spoke up
and sometimes
even
shouted!

Comb the Earth

We
the secret revealers
comb the earth
gathering clues
to long forgotten
brothers and sisters
that placed stones
one atop another
carved trees
into looms
and cared
for sheep
and sheared their wool
and sometimes
bits of woven cloth
found beneath
a charred stone
and once a white
clay pipe
and a button
crafted from
an abalone shell
an arrowhead
of black flint
looked at closely
and imagined hands
chipping away
and minds
with thoughts
never to be found
lost to the winds
the stories
too many to count
and we breathe them
in our imaginations
right now.

Summer Night

Here,
summer in the air
the night
oh so slow
yet moves
with me in tow
together we await
the coming day
outside the window
dried blossoms
silently
preparing seeds
as if
they cared.

One of Us

One of us
the good one
the kind one
the wise one
the one that loved
the one that helped
you and me and those
I don't even know
and he was the one
that we used
to construct
our God
the invisible one
that dwells 
but in our ancient minds
we bring to life
make visible 
the invisible
with the chosen one
our example
of how 
we all should dwell
in a world
without guidance
from
the unknown.

Matters of Matter

Nothing matters
until babies dream
of imagined worlds
that become real
constructed
inside minds
and we live
in two worlds
where everything matters
until the very end
when dreams vanish
into mindless matter
where
nothing matters.

Hungry Eyes

My eyes are hungry
and unlike my tongue
that easily
is overwhelmed
with too much
of a good thing
my eyes delight
in full portions
of beauty
and even then
tire not
but demand
more.

The Dream

In my dream
the stream ran swift
and swirled about rocks
that seemed to stair step 
down the narrow canyon
in near darkness 
the pine and cedar 
towered with blue daubs 
of sky
trout hidden in a deep pool
near a giant boulder
and atop that granite
I was writing a poem
on a scrap of paper 
and the next minute
I adjusted the scope
on my sniper's rifle
while I waited 
for the dark meeting
that was a mission
for good
I was told
yet it remained
frozen in time
as I awoke
on a train
taking me home
in the light
of day.

Soul Man

He searched high and low
looking for his soul
until it dawned on him
that his very thoughts
those ghosts inside his head
invisible and immaterial
alive for but a flash
always right now
never before
never after
yet some saved
in memory
most vanishing
into darkness
were his soul
and without memory
even he too
would never
know.

The Cycles of Life

It was another of those cycles
at the bottom
the fever doing a number
on the inner monologue
with himself he fretted
wild thoughts
but since childhood
it was always the same
just wait
time will bring the cycle
around and like
a slow motion movie
things would improve
and the hope of normalcy
would in fact be within reach
and more time
as feverish thoughts
faded into the unknown
simply things
like a glass of cold orange juice
or the warm breeze through
the open window
just confirmed
that hope was
still alive.

Time and Place

For years I was lost
in thought about everything
until I found a wooden ruler
in the back of my desk drawer
that I used to measure space
to such a degree that
on graph paper
I could map my entire life
with the help
of time
yet couldn't find
exactly where I was at
until I broke the wooden ruler
and used words
written on the back
of that graph paper
to describe how I felt
during numerous moments
in time
and I found each moment
had a place
that I soon discovered
was much more interesting
than those places
on the other side
of that piece
of graph paper.

He Tried to Imagine

He tried to imagine
how far away were those stars
that forever twinkled overhead
since he remembered
a late night camping trip
a child before a camp fire
mesmerized by dancing flames
and glowing cinders swirling
to the late night sky
and stars overhead
more than he could ever imagine
but now imagining not
they were real
and forever more
in their rightful places
always right there
following him
through the ages
until at the other end
the old man
no longer imagined
what he knew
was really
real.

Rigged From the Beginning

The universe was rigged
from the beginning
with all its just so
and filled with just enough
so that one by one
everything fits
or doesn't fit
but when together
things happen
big things
cooking inside stars
with the beginnings
of you and I
with right-now
thoughts
the result
of everything
fit together
since the beginning
just so
you and I
are filled
with wonder
before
our very eyes.

The Naturalist

He had a name
for everything
as he kept his eyes
on the details
while his mind pieced together
the grand picture
often he looked closer
trying to discover
the hidden bits
that made up the details
and they too
had names
and every night
before drifting off to sleep
he would file away all the names
in the dark
to make room
for the morrow.

Subject/Verb/Object

Once I heard
a subject
did a verb
to an object
and that is life
when my mind
gathers the pieces
and constructs
a story
so that life
has meaning
when I give
or I take
or I find myself
in between.

They Made Things

They made things
with their hands
and eyes
and hearts
that were filled
with grace
and minds
that could just be
while fingers
nimbly threaded
needles
with thread
the color
of the sky
or sometimes
of a red rose
or a pink carnation
to embroider
flowers and leaves
and trees
and words
that were read
again and again
silently
by eyes
staring
and fingers
that had never
threaded a needle
inside quiet
museums
in cities
that framed
what was left
of a distant
holy grace.

Constructing a New Thought

I wonder how
a new thought
is constructed
inside my head
I mean
how does the thought
come to life
when just a second before
no thought was
contemplated
but nevertheless
a new thought
sparked to life
and was it without
language
just an electrochemical
process that knows
where to plug
into the dictionary
of meanings
and connect
to memories
and how do words
and memories
look in their
atomic smallness
without pencils or paper
or bits or bites
on glowing screens
and who is
the overseer
that orchestrates
this most dark
and damp
undertaking?

We Name

We name
the unnameable
we describe
the indescribable
we apply attributes
to that which attributes
cannot be applied
so that our minds
can create words
like heart
soul
love
to imagine
who
we
are.

One Day

One day a human
thought
a new idea
that this
was better
than that
and values were born
and how many more days
before
someone uttered
this is good
and
that is bad?

What He Had in Mind

What did he say?
Or words to that effect
that my young mind
pieced together like
pieces to a puzzle
so that when I finally knew
the mystery revealed
my answer was new
it was mine alone
yet he failed to understand
what he said and did
were not exactly
what he had
in mind.

1964

"Holy Cow!"
I could not tell
a homerun?
the snowy screen
a summer
baseball game
fell still
I left the room
outdoors
into the sun
into the Ford
behind the wheel
I drove away
without a thought
to where
another
lazy day
without a job
or direction
the total sum
of life
for one
young man
without words
to piece together
wordless thoughts
to share
or care
for what
lay ahead.

Countless Journeys

Sometimes I think of life
as countless journeys
many steps along the way
each a miracle in itself
if only we are awake
with ears to hear
eyes to see
layer upon layer
memories
shaping the heart
to feel
what the mind
cannot
touch.

I Hope the Encore

The dear young lady's life
began when you sparked
the Big Bang
and the makings of her being
were forged inside stars
and what seems to me
an eternity
of evolution before
her every feature became
to my eyes perfection
and for a blink of my eyes
the creation of star dust
returns to star dust
I hope the encore
is yet to come
else next time
ask me
when enough is enough
and when time to stop
when it is
as good
as it gets.

Grace

Nature teaches
us grace
when we open
our eyes
and just look
at what is
that needs not us
flowers and trees
rocks and streams
clouds and sunlight
and the ebb and flow
of the ocean surf
needs us not
yet our need
to be part
of it all
is enough.

Matters of My Heart

The matters of my heart
began with that first breath
or before
and all around me
everyone
and everything
shaped my feelings
formed my emotions
with every little action
and reaction
until my mind
filling with reason
inside my head
was
and is moved
by all that are now
matters of
my
heart.

Her Memories Were Many

Her memories were many
stored inside her head
a few even occupied
hidden places
the scar on the knee
from childhood
the scar on the heart
imagined
but now
thought real.

The Apple of Your Eye

The apple of your eye
your pupil grows
taking me in
yet I see myself
like a tiny puppet
reflected for me
only to see
and you call me
the apple of your eye
I hope precious
to you
and for only me
the puppet
to see.

Eyes That Listen

As you stare at a star
if that star is still a star
then as long as you stare
you have made a connection
as connecting as two tin-cans
connected by kite twine
yet your mind fills with wonder
with visible and invisible
messages from that star
perhaps those feelings
of awe
are not coming from within
but from without
from that other end
of that string of light
the whole universe beaming
messages of awe
to any eye
that will listen.

The Moth and the Mapmaker

The moth was pierced
by a pin
with a tiny label
pierced too
together
beneath glass
with frequent stares
eyes attracted
by wings that seemed
to be designed
by a mapmaker
of old
for ship captains
that sailed
beneath star filled skies
to guide their sails
to unknown lands
that were carefully draw
over countless years
on the wings
of moths
now
under
glass.

Meditating upon forever change

Sometimes deep into the night
deep into the desert
with but the canopy of stars above
a meandering breeze
that comes and goes as it pleases
a kind of darkness below
the circular horizon that stuns the eyes
tiny sounds about
some familiar
some strangers
and seated atop gritty sand
with still warmth
from the long departed sun
new smells tickle the nose
the body slowly finds an ease
seems held upright
by that breeze
the mind
oh the mind
wants to take it all in
as the senses grow bolder
and bolder
what was once ordinary
becomes extraordinary
the mind lets go
the voice in the head is dumbstruck
what was thought to be stillness
suddenly becomes forever change
in the blink of a blind eye
the entire universe
slips
into that silent mind.

When All is Quiet

When all is quiet
perhaps the silence
you hear
is the sound of atoms
within and without
you
the sun
the avocado tree
the aluminum and plastic lawn chair
the glass of iced tea
the clouds
all the universe abuzz
in invisible motion
electrons whirling
around protons
silently
making their music
everywhere.

Starry Night

A sigh
in the night
breaks the overhead
vision
of things past
that touch my eyes
after so long
a journey
to then dissolve
in a matter
of a blink
in time
to resurrect
in sightless
thoughts
and to live on
in words passed
from me to you
a piece
of a star
made real
by sounds
uttered
in the dark
of night.

A Handful of Words

With a handful of words
I attempt to create
life lived
on this hurling Earth
a dot, less than a dot
in a universe so big
that minds like mine
get lost just thinking
such thoughts
yet in the morning dewy grass
two, then three rabbits appear
busy with their break fast
before the sun rises
and air lifts the wings
of hawks
looking for rabbits
that have
called it
a day.

Forgotten Memories

His memories
were stored
and usually forgotten
until some lazy day
when the sun shined warm
and a breeze tickled
the spirit
long forgotten memories
surfaced
to be carefully remembered
and sometimes crafted
decorated and embellished
and placed in a drawer
to be ready for that day
when spirits rose
and ears gathered
to hear his memory
of forgotten days
that never were
but now lived on
with new ears
that forever
will believe
them to be.

Come Forth

He twiddled the idea
in his head
to weave thoughts
imagined patterns
he said
of threads
woven like ancient
Persian carpets
designed for keen eyes
to reveal
a tapestry of stories
and tales
too convoluted
to tell
so they stayed
inside
his head
until his fingers
could not resist
to tell tales
that were too
convoluted
for twisted tongues
to tell.

Summer Time

Was it a peach tree
or was it plum
the card table 
four folding chairs
all set up
and four plates
with chicken
mashed potatoes
a heap of yellow corn
four glasses of milk
four cousins 
at that age
when the adults
sat inside
around a big table
and talked about 
all the things
that the children
seated at the card table
cared not
for they were content
in the shade of the tree
on that hot summer day
in July of nineteen
fifty two
to just giggle 
while eating drumsticks
with 
their hands.

A Useful Fiction

I open my eyes
to a useful fiction
of solid chairs and tables
of boulders too
that build mountains
of grains of sand
flowers and trees
a gathering of matter
arranged just so
that my mind
can construct
a reality
that even
you and I
believe
to be.