Relationship

Heaven on Earth

In the continuum from infinite to finite,

to present form from past light,

from energy to matter, to human from Divine,

there must be a place along that line,

where each begins or ends,

with clues the route portends.

Though we sometimes blindly drift,

there’s a nexus where we shift.

I think this true, but it’s unshown,

this heaven we have sewn,

this place we ourselves create,

this thing which some call fate,

where we all co-create

our unique and special place,
between ourselves and God’s grand Grace.

A Unique or Seldom Used Word

Homothumadon

There is no one else,
not another soul,
who could have married me
and made me theirs,
lived with me
and remained with me,
loved me so at the start,
and even more later,
so patiently, she
waited me out,
a long, long time after
it all began.
My love keeps her
when my madness would not.
She is accustomed to me.
She did not need to
stay with me,
yet she did.
We are one.

Anti-form

Formless

Waking early,

staring into the darkness,

I find myself,

thinking about a circle,

one without a center,

one without a circumference,

one with me.

A Tee-shirt Kinda Guy

I live in a city 

of no significant style,

been living here now

for quite a long while.

We have really nice weather,

loads and loads of beaches,

no great sports team but

we have dogs off of leashes.

The restaurant scene

mostly requires no dressing.

Fits me well, since it’s basic for me,

to that I’m confessing.

The art scene is small, but

the theater choices gigantic,

with four universities,

it can get quite pedantic.

The bookstores don’t wait

for Comic-Con to arrive,

with five-star speakers,

they all seem to thrive.

There are likely some cities

which think that they’re better,

but I’ll stay where I am,

living large, in fine fetter.

Let others take off,

to Paris or Venice they can fly.

I’m staying where I can be

a tee-shirt kinda guy.

LIghtWork

                                             LightWork

I am not living

the life I imagined.

This one is far better.

I’m on a path which

I never anticipated.

It’s pretty cool.

I try my utmost to  

show my spiritual self

as harmlessly as I can,

yet I feel the need sometimes

to do more than my best.

One of those times is now.

Still, I'm happiest, 

when I bring 

everything I have.

We are all

just passing through.

Might as well do so

with joy and laughter,

rejoicing in the day,

walking more slowly,

maybe even feeling

a little groovy.

I am doing my best

to say beautiful things,

to inspire, to help, be kind.

When I do not hear

Spirit's voice, it's not because

the talking has stopped,

and at those times,

I am not afraid

to ask for assistance.

The strongest people

I know ask for help

when they are in need of it.

I know that who I was

and who I am becoming,

is where the work lies.

What I shall learn

after I know it all

will make all the difference.

No matter how uneasy

some days are,

I recall that I chose them.

I accept that every experience

is one which I must need.

Every day

I have the chance

to be happy,

to enjoy this life I chose.

No one but me is

in charge of my happiness,

and I am laughing out loud.

Hah!

I don’t know

how much life is left to me

but I hope to

make a difference with it,

and if all I ever did

for the rest of this life was

say “thank you”,

that might be enough.

Each time I act

with kindness the universe 

changes for the better, and

when I wish to find

reasons for gratitude,

it’s not too difficult.

I need God’s Love.

God needs my hands and feet.

Seems like a good deal to me.

Such a huge difference:

discussing Spirit and experiencing It.

(blank) Thread

Nice Threads, Mate

is something no one

has ever said to me,

and they probably 

never will, you see,

I’m a tee-shirt kinda guy,

put on the pants

I took off last night,

can’t be bothered about

how I look, really can’t,

try as hard as I might.

I don’t focus on my looks,

just make sure to,

brush my teeth, 

wash my hair.

Is that so wrong for

an old guy like me?

I mean, what’s it matter,

why should I care?

A simple approach is

the one I chose, and

my joy has nothing 

to do with my clothes.

Temptation

No Poem is an Accident

He knew it was best to

follow his gut when it

came to his scribblings,

to let his stomach tell him

the truth, when his desire for

approval tried to

lead him astray.

He knew that every poem

was born from a need,

each one a mystery,

yet all of them on a mission,

a fight, or flight,

to reveal his life.

He knew it best to

follow his gut, but

those damn buttons,

send and post and share,

so easy to push, so easy to

lead him into temptation,

when he knew it best to

follow his gut, to

attend to his heart.

Love

True Love

Looking around us,

Can we think that 

we or the universe 

are mere accidents?

Of course not.

Deeper than in our mind,

more openly than with our heart,

if we are seeking,

this is where we spy the source,

yet only slightly comprehend It.

If we sit perfectly still,

have our mind be calm, peaceful,

we might catch a glimpse of

Spirit’s loving goodness.

Then we’ll know true love.

Favorite

Gratitude

I don’t make 
New Year’s resolutions anymore,
None I’d keep,
nor even remember,
come February.
Instead, I pick a word.
Just one word.
My word this year
is Compassion.
It’s the one I chose to
remind me of
who and how and what
I wish to be,
every day, all day.
Last year, it was Generosity,
a good and maybe grand one,
noble in its intent,
heartfelt and true.
It worked pretty well.
Opportunities to give
arose in bunches:
my money, my time, my love.
But the big one,
my favorite,
was two years ago,
my first attempt at this.
Gratitude it was,
and it is the best
of all the other qualities,
based on one’s experience
of having enough.
The Universe loves Gratitude,
is Itself an abundant giver,
and likes to be appreciated.
Hope might have been
a decent choice, but
there’s doubtful expectation there.
Peace is a good one too,
filled with faith,
but Gratitude has it all,
overflowing with quiet delight.
In the quantum soup
of the visible and unseen,
it is the satisfying wholeness.
It is how I can be thankful
for this life, this body, this space,
how I can be like a child
on a beach,
seeing the vast unknown

Metaphor

Cool Cat

He likes walking meditation, seldom goes on a vacation, enjoys his trashy books, soups and casseroles he cooks, in public he is charming, writes in ways that are heart warming, can’t sing at all, not a lick, can’t dance either, it’s just sick, he has known a deeper sorrow, still sees a bright tomorrow, likes to walk without a care, simply strolling, being there, other poets he is wooing, not always knowing what he’s doing, he isn’t rich but doesn’t mind, knowing he can still be kind, has his ways to find his worth, still has hope for Mother Earth, keeps the future sharp in sight, knows the past ended last night, holds no truck with pain and woes, much to do before he goes, strives with all his might, not for correct things, but the right, getting older now, there’s that, but he’s still one cool cat.

Report

Reports of Success

Today, I am worried.

I am worried that Pyrrhic victory

will inspire more preemptive strikes,

when what are needed are

preemptive education and

preemptive medicine and

preemptive food.

Today, I am aware,

once more, yet once more,

that wars are fought

by our children,

and by theirs.

Today, I am sad for

the well-meaning anti-war souls

whose legitimacy will be 

toppled like a statue.

Today, I am sad

for the young warrior

who will be the last to die 

in Syria or Iran or Crimea.

What will be his name?

What will be her legacy?

Today, I know

that thousands will die,

more will be crippled,

and then, yes then,

there will be

another war.

Today, I am reminded

again, yet again,

how no one

hates war more

than the warrior

Today, I feel alone,

trying to not think of it.

So I will pray.

Insect

Don’t Bug Me, She Says

Over time,

I have become

like an elder, 

forager bee,

in that I leave 

home daily to

look for the goods,

but I always return.

Like those bees,

we elders die in 

larger numbers,

but we don’t have

to slow down much.

Ninety-nine percent

of forager bees

die away from the hive.

This isn’t just bad luck,

more of a trait, 

an instinct,

Natural Law,

the way things are.

Maybe they know

the end is near, 

so they seek 

one final adventure.

It’s not suggested here

that I run into the forest,

look for a patch of moss,

lie down, close my eyes,

smelling the pine cones.

Nope, not ready for that,

but the adventure seeking part,

maybe yes.

Better that than
sitting at home,

bugging my honey with

tales of what if.

No Time for Laments

No Regrets

There can be no thoughts

of turning back.

The bridges have been

blown asunder,

the boats all sunk,

there is only 

forward for us now.

It is not that 

we are brave,

simply that 

there is no choice,

courage not at issue,

as the fire 

rages at our backs.

Blood might

be involved, yet

we can cure 

the ills of the world.

We can. 

We must.

We will.

Warning: You Have Work to Do

I want to be real

and how I am

requires someone

in my life

to tell me

what’s what.

I try to speak of truth.

I write of

heart and mind.

How it really is

requires someone

to speak to me of

blood and bone.

A writer’s job is to speak.

A friend’s job is to answer.

Warning

Be Forewarned

My heart knows the way.

I plan to follow it.

What else can I but do?

Oh, it's been broken 

into pieces more than once,

by sadness, anger, regrets,

but it always finds 

a means of healing,

a map to sharing,

a path to kindness,

a route to compassion.

My heart wants to love.

I plan to follow it.

Two for Tuesday

Mis-Deal

Stockbrokers don’t drive no stock

Chairmen don’t build no chairs

TV hosts don’t serve no snacks

News anchors don’t sail no ships

Weathermen don’t build no vanes

Athletes don’t play with kids

Movie stars don’t shine real light

The Real Deal

Teachers really teach

Nurses really nurse

Waiters really wait

Poets really write

Letter carriers really deliver

Pedicabbers really pull their weight

Messengers really get the word out

And Moms, well moms really save the future

Family

Mother

If my mother had lived,

she’d be 98 today,

and who could know how

she’d see the world..

If my mother had lived,

would she be in awe,

or, like the most of us,

take what we have for granted?

If my mother had lived,

she’d have seen so many 

wondrous things, like

trips to the moon and

a vaccine for polio, like

electric cars and

a black man as president, like

Dick Tracy fantasies become
Steve Jobs realities, like

Valium and artificial hearts,

both of which might have

helped her live.

But my mother did not live,

and she missed so many

other things, like

her son in Marine dress blues, and

her son beneath a college mortar board , and

her son so beautifully married, and

her son at peace in a lovely life.

Of course, she also missed 

too many needless wars, and

too many hungry souls, and

too much thoughtless avarice, and

too much not being done about it all.

I am sorry that she missed it all,
even the bad, even the worst. 

I am sorry, Dr, Seuss, but

I can’t smile because it happened.

It did not happen long enough.

—————————

Father

The moment of his death had come,

with certainty, and of course, finality,

there in the middle of the night,

no idea of the time,

simply an assurance that it was now,

after what seemed like a month of

watching and waiting,

my step-sisters,

his widow-to-be,

and me.

Together in that apartment,

but each of us

alone with him as well,

receiving guests, family, friends,

first when he was awake,

then during the stove-pipe coma,

finally ushering in

the ministry of Hospice.

All conversations had been

one-way for a while,

all of us wanting to say the things

we missed saying in brighter times.

It was mid-sentence in one such talk

That I knew, then flew about the home,

gathering us all around that bed,

everyone questioning the need,

the urgency, not fathoming

the emergency, when, from

the depths of the disease

that was taking him, he

woke, and smiled

as he never had before,

looked around the bed,

nodding at each of us in turn,

my sisters and me, then,

finding his wife,

found the capacity to speak

of his love once more,

and just then,

the moment came.