Dessert Anyone?

Universe with
your pleasured consumption
of infinity
of all the breaths
that I have taken
all the words
that I have spoken
both written
and in song
the volume of Love
I have given,
will I be
a portion
of your meal
possibly a nibble
of your dessert
or will I be
discarded with
the crumbs?

Or am I a tiny
speck of sand
like our Earth
is to the Milky Way
as it is
then to you
sieved
through as in
a medieval
glass time piece
then turned over
to be re-sieved
time and time again
while you
savor the sweetness
of infinity?

spring water

Time passes
a barnacle
in the mind

a heart
without eyes
has no sense
of time

The wind
the rain
a mirror’s reflection
on a face

years of playing
in summer winds
and winter storms

a heart still sings
youth filled
tunes
the legs
the feet
no longer
move in tempo

reminiscing upon
memories
that fill the glass
with spring water
of youth

Nutty Friend

She lets me feed her
from my hand
scurries down
to the homemade
wooden perch I’ve
logistically hung on
the tree.

Multiple hanging birdfeeders
all around
thistle bags hang
on hooks of black cast iron poles
stuck in the ground
a created aviary

Josette, my nutty friend
climbs down
amidst the feathered clan
on the platform of the perch
sitting on her haunches
nibbles on the corn and black oilseed
I’ve placed there for her pleasure

She sits up
taking pleasure in the seed
proudly displays
like brass buttons
her little teats
as her tail
waggles in the air
letting me know
of her contentment
and her joy

light at night

The night, ah yes , the night
I have not seen it lately
for my eyes have been closed

I have heard it, though
what life bares it’s soul
and sings in the night

It wanders about
like I do
in the light

I recall once
not too long ago
looking up
and their were holes
in the sky
one big one
for sure
in the dark
in the night
Boy, was it bright

'M' is for

My eyes closed last night
but still could see
shadows cast
from the day before

Misty light cast upon
the swollen cheeks
distended bellies
tears crust on little faces

My body lays upon
a warm mattress
my belly is full
and sate

My pains and aches
incomparable
to those tiny swollen feet
and the rash
urine soaked shorts

Mom has passed
giving up her food to them
but soon they will
once again hold her hand
smile down upon
an uncaring world

Maybe the tears
that fill my eyes
will blur
the shadows cast
and I shall sleep

Exhaled

Swollen her eyes lids
would then unfurl
releasing saline residue
of memories once forgotten

She shares her story
his wanton treachery
behind closed doors
covered bruises
from him begotten

Someone who closely I knew
sharing boyhood dreams
pangs of hunger
fatherless
unwanted lonely nights
of acculturating plight

Attentive are my ears
as she speaks of the years
nine children born
little time shared
spent by his hand
changing diapers in the night

Commiserating
of positives from their past
her husband, my brother
alone and homeless
in the lonely LA streets
he passed

We wandered into caverns
where minds wish not to go
hearts disdain to travel
Catharsis tamed the moment
we exhaled those darken
shadows cast

Wisdom Reflected

Four days this last week
I saw the world through the eyes
of ninety year old souls
capturing some of their
inner wisdom and their life’s tolls

Papa, a Minister, came with a portable kidney
dialysis set up in our spare bedroom
He's hooked-up nightly by seven
for a ten hour stint till the next morn
refreshed with verve without forlorn

His partner, lover and wife of sixty five years
a teacher of music, a first seat violinist
mother of three daughters and one son,
tennis player when her legs were young
led a choir of church hand bells ethereally rung

When first I met them twenty six years prior
He’d be on his Sunday pulpit proselytizing ‘good’
She’d fill every crevice in the vestibule
with sinuous violin minuets
her finger tips touching every human pore

Now she barely ambles but conjures strength
when incontinence assails her pride
Scurries, crouched, with her walker
resembling a diminutive Mother Teresa’s stature

They shared their ageless wisdom
reminding us of selflessness
we peered into their eyes, their souls
while caring for their whithering incarnate shells
seeing of what is soon to be ourselves

The Likes of Me

What wind does there yonder blow
it crashes upon my face
surrounds me like a whirl wind
warm or cool, wet and cold


It molds me like the rocks upon the shore
years of blowing back and forth
giving rides to winged friends
and anything it grasps
when hard it blows


It circles me with life’s adornments
sometimes they glitter or they glow
and some may fall and break
when the wind howls
and intensity grows

Not unlike the stones of ages
it forms the structure of my being
shapes the high or low brow
the cheek bones on my face

So when I look into a mirror
or others peer into my eyes
they see what wind around me swirls
that encapsulates my world

A Balance

Awoke this morning with the vocals of Eva Cassidy
and Israel Kamakawiwo's singing their renditions
of ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’
Simple and mellifluous she spreads honey on an
already sweet dream filled song whereas he
plays it with his ukulele in a happy upbeat

Yesterday, filled my listening pleasures with
Yo Yo Ma’s emotional integration with his cello
interpreting Beethoven and Mozart through his fingers
of their linear manifestation of human genius

Sate my palette with a coating of Shelley, Tennyson
Shakespeare; all this to spoil my sensorial
with choice pleasures buffering
the inundation of pain filled realities
of treacherous Weather and Wars

Tomorrow I shall greet my wife’s elderly parents
visiting and bringing more than ninety years
of these days of choices and well cognizant of their
awaiting to embrace their transitional destiny
where all the music, the poetry of Human history
now reside in that restful abode

The Rapture is Come

The Rapture did come for some
once existing full with life
in a harrowing wind blown moment
it’s breath of inherent Being is ripped out
by Nature’s vengeful angered hand

In Hell's abode the devil exhales
and the dark of darkness replaces all light
the quiet and calm of the day
is swallowed by a deadly roar
of destructive winds forcing life's flight

Screams resounding with cries of sorrow
filling the darkness and left unheard
cuddled embraces fill the feigned security of corners
where once Felix and Fido’s bowls were left
now lifeless souls of dead huddled carcasses rest

As the wrath of Earthly destruction rolls away
left behind are chards of
denuded Oaks standing still
barren of leaves and limbs
casting eerie tombstone shadows upon piled rubble

Unlike, as captured in pictorial annals
of a Vietnamese child naked, burned skin
scaling and pealing off from napalm 
her smoldering village lays waste behind her
giving rise to the distil morals of war,

had this death and destruction
been from man made war
the battles would be fought and
victory or defeat would be hailed
but this being Nature’s blight
unsettled questions assail the night

Left is unresolved pain and sorrow
questioning the existence of our Faith
Why must all this suffering be
and where is that intervening
caring hand of our Deity?

Release

Floundering about of what to speak
what words with which to paint the picture

of those that draw the memories
or those of the empirical present

a process of emotional acceptance of
how life exists beyond the self

trying to intertwine one’s soul
with the universe

accepting that in order for this to happen
one must release the individual self

and if this be the choice entwined in empathy for all
then let me be part of this universal oneness

is this called Love

You Are The World

When one feels their world is
lonesome uncaring and small
look out your window
walk out the door
expand your world
answer the call

It is said
it all begins from within
where comfort and joy abound
from a larger world
you allow to surround

Your eyes will grow wide
lungs will expand
mind heart and soul
sated from demand

The more you will have
the more you will give
an unending overflow
enough to share like a sieve

The emptiness fills
the void disappears
when you become part of the world
it dissipates life’s fears

Holding Love's Hand

Love is a curious thing
We try to share it
with those for whom we care,
those who we choose and want in our lives
They then walk away onto their own horizons
taking with them this Love
We wonder if we can Love again
How much more Love is left inside
can we Love in the same way again
It’s taken me many years to realize Love
the nuances of it’s manifestations
the feelings and understandings
the emotional stakes
I ask myself... Do I Love well and
is Love reciprocated proportionate
to how one Love’s
It’s curious how Love can
be shared even with the abstract of Faith
Is Love ‘caring’, magnified
When I walk onto my horizon
will Love hold my hand
and not let go

Life Goes On

Restless, rambling thoughts and memories
of how the years have crept up on me
Mother and brothers speak to me
from that other world, oh the absence,
the void, Life goes on

Sadness abounds in natures devastations
Human suffering, the pain of unexpected loss
recovery mode for those who are
the survivors, Life goes on

Children playing in the streets
young lovers walking hand in hand
trees are full with leaves
a waft of a lilac bush, begonias, Spring
Life goes on

Chards of sun rays break through
grey wind blown stratus clouds
light droplets spill over a rainbow
sprinkle upon pedals making them sparkle
Life goes on

A robin holds a tiny twig in its beak
closely watches my approach toward her tree,
bright red cardinal perches on the feeder,
a redwing black bird eats seeds on the ground
it tilts it’s head chattering at me
Life goes on

On my driveway with a cup of coffee
breathe deep fresh air into my lungs,
kiss my wife standing next to me,
our quadripedal ‘kids’, Jules and Jaz
chase the ducks and squirrels
Life goes on

The Beach

I stand here with sand between my toes
The wind blows hard. The skin on the cheeks
of my face flap like little flags on a pole
The tides rush in ominously roaring all the way
toward me teasing me to jump in and play
A cacophony of loud splashing sounds against the rocks
standing left of me all stone faced. Stand like gentry there
for many years prior to any man before me stood here.
The roaring sound of waves and whirling of the ocean wind
recreating the beach head where I now stand incites a query,
’ when my spirit does leave this incarnate shell,
 will it ride the waves of yonder sea
ride onto this shore and tease another's soul
that long from now shall be standing where I stand here,
observe the horizon and the long kissings of the
azure sky with the sea’?

to quote P.B.Shelley:

"The fountains mingle with the rivers
the rivers with the oceans
the winds of heaven mix forever
with a sweet emotion
Nothing in this world is single
all things by a law divine
into one another's being mingle
why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven
and the waves clasp one another
no sister flower would be forgiven
it it disdained it's brother.
And the sunlight grasps the earth
and the moon beams kiss the sea
what is all this kissings worth
if thou kiss not me?"

Love is Sufficient

May I dwell upon my milestone
just for a little while
never have I wailed or whined
about that midlife crisis
but now quietly I've collected
the years and for less of these, I pine


Grateful for the morning sunrises I’ve seen
the shared changes the seasons bring
the healthy play filled youthful days
of wanderings in my teenage years
with childhood antics, the inordinate ways


Fortunate I am to have walked along side
so many wonderful human spirits
some having exited onto another world
others have wandered into their own mundane lives
so much wealthier I am for having shared
with them common space and time

My life's greatest accomplishment
is having Loved and being loved
by my family and friends
sharing the warmth of their hugs and kisses
never forgetting those smiles on them faces


My later years witnessing life's vicissitudes
of harrowing ugliness, the sorrows and pains
I’m sure not unlike many of you
who have witnessed much of the same


If there exists that omniscient omnipotent spirit
the one written about in the books of Divinity
I hope my well-being for others will be recognized
But if not, to have lived and to have loved
will have filled my life more than sufficiently

A Moment

The conversation
Soft and selfless words exchanged
Alone we stand
in surround sound of chirps and birds of song
A teasing breeze
Verdant landscape in our periphery
The salient feeling within

The smile
and the warmth of her breath
a synchronous touch of hands
and simultaneous desire to embrace
The caress of her breast upon my chest
we look into each other’s eyes
capturing for memory’s sake

April 60th

Today is April my birthday month
I welcome the sixtieth April of my life
melancholy sits upon my shoulders on this ride
three years prior on my birthday my Mother passed

Ascribed upon my day of celebration
is a significance to making memories
only few will remember my words
but we'll have shared the warmth
of an embrace

Time seemingly dispels our existence
without emotion, without care
like budding twigs and hatching roe
that are swished away on an undertow
and the river's bank then takes new form
as if that life it washed was never born

Will the universe remember
this tiny speck called the Human Race
for all it's found accomplishments and tolls
where Love resided once but in a forlorn face

Feliz comple anos, a mi

Native Value

My Native American Children
I hear your screams
these words I speak to you
that you may find a balance
in your sense of Value and for Hope

When you awaken in the morning
ingest the air knowing
that breathe comes from
Mother Earth’s breast to share

You must open up your eyes
your ears, your sense of feel
in that which you touch
and smell, see and hear
it today, for it has value

Go out and run outside bare feet
and capture in this freedom jaunt
the sight of Mother Nature's dress
and know every step you take is yours,
no one can take this away

For those born without legs
without sight, cannot hear or speak
the one who runs will
share their eyes, their ears, their feet

This gives true value to life
and provides the hope that’s lost
in the empty caverns of the heart
and to the desired comfort of the soul

Disdain those things that others have
for they have placed false value
on hoarded objects they must own
in order to feel their own worth

Do not be captured by their desires
for unbeknownst to them these very objects
take away their personal freedom
owning parts of their soul

Giving not taking,
sharing not hoarding
fills the heart and soul
with a feeling of Life's value
that sense of Hope

I am a person born of Indian maiz
in a land older than yours
where many mornings I have walked
upon this Earth, taken many jaunts
given thought aplenty of where
my soul deserves to reside
whether in this mundane existence
or cutting it short by my own hand
I have found, though, in this clouded
sense of Hope, a prevailing Love

“Be Here Now, Remember”

A Short Reprieve

Should I feel a modicum of guilt
if I choose to delight myself
with the sounds of chosen music
and the loveliness of words
captured between papyrus leaf

while my neighbor scrounges for food
and a warm cove that once was
her domicile disrupted with the spontaneity
of nature’s eruptive fragility
distroying her diurnal comfort

my heart palpitates with sympathy
my eyes swollen with tears
sincere with empathy
charitable donations placed
given within my means

my soul requests a small reprieve
from the visuals and sounds
of the cries from Sendai
a short escape into the warmth
of a compartmentalized space

If I would be there
I'd help pick up the debris
from your streets, distribute
warm blankets and water
but it’s beyond my means

so, if you please,
with mitigated guilt
I shall hug my wife my kids
tell them how much
I appreciate this moment
unlike the wrath placed before you