Friday, October 30, 2015

Oh Tangled Death


Oh tangled death

I have come to see

on these steamy sidewalks,

 

far past the middle of my life,

 

We were always, always dancing in your spiny arms.

 

Those tangoed nights of trance

flirting with illusion’s filmy

daughter, smoke-grime

on a tavern window.

 

We are dancing even now

in your tawny muscled arms.

Thursday, October 29, 2015


MUSING WITH A TREE

 

Leaves dance and flutter

     dance and flutter

          and dance,

 

tiny embryos afloat

in trees’s breezy

amniotic fluid.

 

Sky’s bright.      A cerulean

uterus,

 

      Glittering.

 

A vast mothering stage

choreographs

the afternoon.

 

PREGNANT

 

and ready

for leaving,

 

you turn from

afloat to afoot         

 

fleeing----

 

             leaves dance and flutter

                dance and flutter

                     and dance

 

       in a strange pile of soot,

 

     these articulated roots, twisted

          in our saturated grieving,

 

Where We burn

  entranced

 

and           still

         We

                       dance and flutter

                                                        flutter and dance

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

imaginal light


When imaginal light FLOODS the mind receptive,

 

becomes a Bosporus deep enough
for several floating creatures: a tiny wooden
rowboat tattered, a freighter huge slowly steaming 
eastwards, industriously as an insomniac’s tortured

 

night and a robust swimmer blue-skinned pounding
her warrior’s arms ACHING CURVING through
cold clear waters AND, and only

 

AND, when the humble breathing body staggers
sprints with its myriad moles, fatigue, scars and scabs, rippled
muscles, and its sex                 MARRIES
this light’s MIRACULOUS infusion what occurs

 
will more than take our babbled breath away, more than titilate or tickle----

 

can EARTHQUAKE us to another kind of earth
perhaps 3,000 feet beneath this mundane ground,
or straddle us like a lightning bolt from a horny lover

 

ELECTRIFIED  BOISTEROUS

 
all the way from Europe’s insane wars to
Asia’s perfumed slavery days, from
the cloistered monks of Benedict to

 

the masters of the GOLDEN WAY and far,
so far, beyond. 

 

ahh, when imaginal light FLOODS
the mind receptive

Sunday, October 11, 2015


WHEN HEIDI DANCES       (for Heidi and all who love her)

 

When you dance

dear Heidi,

the space you fill

 

glows with sparkling

effervescence.

 

Sweet music, complete silence

embrace your curving muscles

your swerving hips,

 

your soft hair shines like fragrant prayer,

as we reverent dervishes, your admiring

servants, gratefully listen

 

and watch you sway and bloom across the gleaming living room.

 

Scintillas of spindrift grace and refresh all

who witness your awakened

earth-quaking beauty.

 

Yourself rambunctious,

yet fine as lace,

 

a strong form and eager face,

so flowingly sumptuous!

 

An ocean wave born in love and truth,

you roll across unmapped seas

a calming breeze of coolness,

 

you glisten you turn with a schoolgirl’s

frisky ease, yes--your unmild beguiling

enchants and pleases.

 

Mischievous marvelous in your glee,

this freedom you make today makes

our day wholly new, holy too.

 

A galaxy of spinning light, my carefree woman, an altar

beaded with precious color, wildly you do delight us.

 

Oh, how we relish your feminine loving motion.

Thank you for such moments of bliss, this joy-filled

rhythmic shaking, soothing as a shrine upon

the bluest lake.

 

We hear your whispers of joy continue, see in this moving

stillness your skin’s pure tactile happiness,

 

your replenishing dance--our soulful sustenance.

Friday, October 9, 2015



 

When you dance

dear Heidi,

the space you fill

 

glows with sparkling

effervescence.

 

A silence of sweet music

embraces your muscles

your swerving hips,

 

your soft hair shines like the fragrance of prayer,

as we reverent dervishes, your admiring servants,

gratefully listen.

 

Scintillas of spindrift grace this room

 

refresh all who witness

your awakened

earth-quaking beauty.

 

Yourself rambunctious,

yet fine as lace,

 

a strong form and eager face

so flowingly sumptuous!

 

An ocean wave born in love and truth,

you roll across unmapped seas

a calming breeze of coolness,

 

you turn you glisten with a schoolgirl’s

frisky ease, yes--your unmild beguiling

enchants and pleases!

 

Mischievous marvelous in your glee,

this freedom you make today makes

our day wholly.

 

A galaxy of spinning light, my carefree woman wildly

delighting us all, a beaded altar of precious colors--

 

Oh, how we relish your womanly loving motion.

Thank you for such moments of bliss, this joy-filled

rhythmic shaking.

 

We hear your whispers continue, see in this dance

of stillness your skin’s pure happiness,

 

our soulful sustenance.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

ICEBERG



You loom ahead, massive, a nameless monster through
dawn’s thickened mist. Slick and virginal you
                       
                       rise and rise and rise,


our frightened eyes cannot take you in, cannot surmise
your meanings, your reasons for emerging, completely.


Like an elephant tusk, you pierce the water line, surprise the universe.
Horizon’s gleaming zinc sliced in two by this serrated white knife tip.


You’re an angel of searing kindness clad in ivoried robe,
open arms beckon us homewards between
blue air and the brace of ocean’s chill.


Perhaps you’ve come to awaken us from visions dulled,
our paltry fears on this ship of hoary fools.  All our studied numbing,
how we cannot feel, nor become, nor love.


Our frozenness, our grayish dirges.


Through chattering teeth I shout: are you lonely here
in this wild immensity, this frigid sea of salt? 
Have you wandered far from your ice-bound herd,
do you need our help to find your meandering
scattered mates, to unfreeze your cratered hope,


to release an icy bitterness silently encased,
towards those like us who fear and hate 
your sudden god-like presence?


Iceberg luminous, Christ-like beyond all words,
ominous as a serial killer in our fog-bound dreams.


I shout out loud as we face your awe-full whiteness---another poem,
much braver than this, must venture out past well-worn habits
that cloak and twist our sensing, towards what lies beneath your exposed throat


(that roars louder than a hunter’s lust down where your guts abide)


yes, to relinquish our ship-bound illusions of safety, an all- too-human error,
dive way beyond our terror to taste your animal depths
and truly begin to glean what’s unknown in these still waters,
as you, scintilla of the sea, 
                                               
                                      rise and rise and rise,


so soon one day before melted, wasted away from hubris our awful global greed,
you may be felt from head to toe, you--our friend and foe-- finally being seen.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

ICEBERG



You loom ahead, massive, a nameless monster
through dawn’s thickened mist. Slick and pure you
                       
                    rise and rise and rise,


our frightened eyes cannot take you in, cannot surmise
your meanings, your reasons for being, completely.


Like an elephant tusk, you pierce the water line, surprise the universe.
This serrated white knife tip slices horizon’s gleaming zinc in two.


You’re an angel of searing kindness clad in ivoried robe,
open arms beckon us homewards somewhere between
blue air and the brace of water’s chill.


Perhaps you’ve come to help us cope with our dulled vision,
our paltry fears on this ship of hoary fools.  All that
in our studied numbing we cannot feel, nor simply
become, nor love.


Through chattering teeth I shout: are you lonely here
in this wild immensity, this frigid sea of salt? 
Have you wandered far from your ice-bound herd,
do you need us to help you find your meandering
scattered mates, to help unfreeze your hope?


To release this icy bitterness silently encased,
towards those like us who fear and hate your
sudden god-like presence?


Iceberg, you are ominous beyond
all words.


In light of our well-worn habits,
these that cloak and twist our sensing,
as we face your awe-full whiteness,
I now declare---


towards what lies beneath under your open throat
(that roars louder than a hunter’s lust down where your guts abide)


another poem, much braver than this,
must venture out, dive way beyond our terror to taste your animal depths, 
yes, to relinquish our ship-bound illusions of safety,


an all- too-human error, and truly begin to glean what’s unknown
yet not lost in these still waters, as you, scintilla of the sea, 
                                               
                                rise and rise and rise,


so soon one day before you melt and waste away from our greed  our hubris,
you may be felt be seen.