Wow

In my fridge
there is a giant mushroom.
I took it home with me this morning
in a sack with other vegetables.

This evening

Now that you've left

and I've bid you

good riddance

to sleep by yourself

and leave me to my whirling

tempestuous

sad and ridiculous

thoughts

In my heart

You are a constant gardener,

scattering, steadfast.

When you scattered first

land needed clearing

Sackcloth and Ashes

bare
spare
not enough
still too much
too neat.

De profundis

Racing frantic

must do must go must get

thoughts crowding jostling

fighting for front place

Love is missing

Morning time dance

I wake, turn, roll, blink, rise, and hobble
brush, boil, steep, wait,

The Final Wait

Waiting, in my final hours, anxious and alone,

Dreams: four poems

The Realized Dream
 
Its fragments
hopefully inhabited your mind,
Unified by the name
of what it was you wanted.

The Spirit of Living and Flying

I stop denying my mild and frantic frustrations,
Admit my dashed hopes and hopeless dreams;
Then through my inner veins and outer seams

Speak of Love

Speak to me of love,
of that love which transcends;
Which brightens out obsessions
and bursts bubbles of desire and defeat

My spirit has a friend across the mountains

In a stupor of mild mental chaos, absorbed in an unthinking screen,
Life came through the window.

I rest my eyes on the distant bird

I rest my eyes on the distant bird
Flitting across the brightened, clear urban horizon of Heavenly sky,

Zhuangzi says: let go, for there are great things coming!

That Frog of the broken well,
He thought he was so smart;
He thought that since he loved his home
As much as love could hold;
Marvelling at its murky water,

Leave me to sadness for a little while

There’s truth in anger,
In anguished frustration
In the noise of constricted sighs

My friend, a portal to Truth

Through the variously same accordion
and unaffectingly agreeable voices
over Habanera beats
floating in the window
of my August bedroom,
I try to remember you,

Not faithful to her, but faithful to Truth

I’ve gotta remember to stay on my lonely road

Cause it’s even lonelier
Riding a road
Without even me
to hold onto

Meditating by the open window

Leaves from the dry plant in my window

And branches from the tree outside
Are reflecting in the shiny white lid

I'm still glad you're lovely

You are lovely,

like a morning sky of pink
and light and blue

I live on the fourth floor

The tops of the trees
are smiling at me
with shiny twigs in sunlight