Sunday, December 29, 2013

"armchair psychology'

For some damn reason that finally
I don’t want to understand,

it took me 4 decades of adult life
to learn how to procure an easy chair
 
for my living room and I can tell you
for a fact that those soft and simpleton

gods of COMFORT and EASE never
loafed in a more grateful home.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Monday, December 9, 2013

"Rosebuds" new paintings 30"x36" acrylic on canvas

the rose who thought it was a strawberry
the rose who thought it was an owl....

Sunday, December 8, 2013

AN EVENING, SITTING




 "He knows that all paths are impossible and thus he walks them calmly in the night.”  Federico Garcia Lorca on ‘the poet’

 
The smell of books in a public library contains infinities, these well ordered shelves call my name in a seductive whispering of words within words within houses of secrets.

That feeling returns unbidden when aloneness and a moody half-dark basement collude to bring me somewhere strange yet also almost known like a home from another life.

Wind rustles tree leaves outside my upstairs window in a chilled November night. The street outside is quiet and waits like a maiden emptied for her meandering man.

Where is fertility to be found asked the barren merchant? Not in crumpled money nor in tomorrow’s schoolbook promise. We must look lightly into scary darkness, sense the moist breath of foreign artists there. See first for ourselves, then others shall be included surely.

They speak in unknown colors, curved sounds and barely ascending fragrances. Listen with your secret ears.  Skin can sense the touch of invisibilities before summer’s tallest corn is tasted by hillside’s unshorn sheep who linger on and on past the softest dusk.

Can you allow the world to languish, to linger in such perfect slowness? Perhaps not knowing is the clearest path to understanding….’Perhaps’ may be the finest word. Perhaps.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

'When She Shuffles'


When she shuffles into
your church, your bar,
 
your school or café
today with unkempt
 
greasy hair and 
ancient smells
so stiff and thick
 
they shock and sting 
your offended
upturned nose --
 
Will you gaze into her
crusted eyes and see
 
yourself reflected there
hungry and all alone,
 
or will you thank your
stars above or your
special pseudo-god
 
for your job, your car
and healthy kids,
 
your successful friends
and well-stocked,
heated home,
 
as you falsely
buy what you
tell yourself
 
that it's ok
to turn
away?