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cigar ashes borne on autumn winds 
ashes of loves
ashes of bonfires blazing
from this seasons harvests
remnant stories
returning to mother earth
ashes to ashes
into their next reincarnation
into their next recantation
songs syncopated by drums
stretched onto sketched skins
old skins oiled into new skins
tears wept, fears swept
awaiting new roots
blossom into new blooms
newt of frogs swooning crickets
into dreams drempt
by naked buddhas
dancing into our smiles

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we tangle and wrangle,
nothing good enough,

falling short
falling in and out 
we fall exhausted
into each other’s arms 

let’s leave the fight
to another sunset 
let’s turn swords
to plowshares, 

melt the angry gods
into sacred crucibles,
let's postpone pain
to next year,

for tonight, we surf
waves of easy being

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she dreams at the top of the mountain out of sight,
dreaming in the minds of the lamas and the gurus,
beyond the din of flesh wrestling to be angels

her spirit flames bright into the night
darkness steps aside for her soul to soar

her dreams wave the oceans her songs give voice
to the youth seeking what their tribe has no words for,
and the gurus beyond the din of flesh wresting to be angels

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swirling spirals

dervish dances

kaleidoscope eyes

tatooed arias

operatic acrobats

secrets untwined

wild ginger unfurled

girls weeping lizard tears

unbuttoned fears

reckless cares

dares stretched

in yoga gestures

storied spores

caressed in warm winds

mysteries glimpsed

witches brews

frenetic hues

puzzle cues

lover sighs

makeshift spires

obtuse swarms

welcome intrusions

socratic extrusions

sporadic illusions

magnanimous syntax

of language revived

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savor the honeysuckle
in easy embrace of the moon

savor the sage burning bright
in chase of shadows 

savor the silence of empty nests
grateful for young eagles in flight

savor the hives dripping with dreams
of the morning's sun

savor the evening lake rippling
to the egret's long gaze

savor the contours of hands
melting eternity into infinity

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unmasking cliches,
i will not speak
of pedestrian jolts
to the shins
nor of love lurid
or tucked away
in virgin hems

i will refuse
the ears
of impotent
redundancies,
i will eschew
the idolatries of
doilied rhymes

i will eviscerate
sentimentalities
on the knife
of tongues that
dare to horrify
the complacency
of retired poets

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scene for a film

a brown shrouded figure appears at a distance on a shimmering desert horizon walking against a brisk wind from the direction of the setting sun

from the east, another figure shrouded in a prism of colors is pushed along by the same wind

as they approach one another, they look up, and stop a few feet away from one another, eyes unblinking, they are there, motionless in the sand swirling around them,

after several silent minutes, the one from the east reaches into their tunic and presents a gift of bread, hands it, and the one from the west, eats it, in hand torn bites, all the while, never breaking eye contact

then the one from the east bows and spits on the sandaled feet of the one from the west, returning to the mutual unblinking silence

no words break the silence

after a few minutes, two other multi-colored figures emerge on the east horizon, as they approach, the one from the east faces them and together they bow and spit on each other’s sandals

then the three multi-colored figures from the east face the figure from the west, reach into their tunics, and present gifts of bread and flask of wine

the figure from the west, takes them, and in hand torn bites and sips, finishes them, all the while keeping eye contact with the first figure from east

they stand together, all four, for several minutes, then release the kind of laughter that can only come from a place deep in one’s soul too deep even for paradox,

then together, they walk north into the night

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no prairie dogs looking out after us
there are no more outlaws

posing as decent men
one moon ahead of a posse

posing as decent men, now
as the elite, elected few

there are only outlaws
and prairie dogs looking out after us

as we sidewind through mountain passes
on saddles blazing in nostalgia

for what made this country great,
for white armed men, anyhow

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steaming mississippi blues 
dripping down my nose 
dark molasses moonshine
release the melodious ethers 
of old black men serving 
soul gumbo in the back room
where angels dream in my sleep

drinking in the elixir
of louisiana steel guitars
their eyes dance in mine,
their syncopated secrets
lush in surreptitious moorings
as i bathe in the bayou
where your cool beauty stirs

dance close, hold my breath lightly
in your hands, my forgotten exile
in your smile that extends
far beyond red horizons,
deep into azure nights,
release me into your
steamy, dreamy allure

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2
in water flowing
to unseen destinations,
child of mountain
flowing, bowing to valley,
rounding edges,
joyful in bubbling sounds, joyful
in the stillness
of continuous movement

3
know world in its all
as your being,
know being
the way stone knows
sun and the darkness,
know being as
birds lighting in snow,
as the wind of your soul,
the way stone knows
its place and direction,
color and shape,
its nature as action
in the world, it is

4
as sun, earth, and sky
i live through you,
your joy is the joy i know,
your breath is the breath i breathe,
your eyes and stories
are the aperture
through which I know
my self, my bliss

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there were no tears,
fauna skipped across rivers to the other side
where the spirits welcomed them home

there were no houses torn asunder,
nothing was owned, nothing stolen,
all meals came from a single pot

there was no greed,
all sentient beings immersed themselves
into next forms without trace

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