Cardón dreaming
Sentinel silent standing arms reaching holding high green, fierce flower and thorn bee and beetle tumbling, sun rock and sky statuesque shadows lifting long heat dazed quartz and shale breathing, we dream
Poetry
Flowers for the void
Sliding along the length of your back caressing high mountain meadows long as the breeze soaring, lost in the aroma the wild flowers of your being sunlight glinting
The Kingdom
Were I able to capture within this flimflam frame all the majesty of light and space, scintillating across the oasis before me now
Thanksgiving
a poem on gratitude during thanksgiving
Baja Baby
a poem on expatriate gentrification and consumerism in Baja California
Death In The Wings
Life, Love and the Human Spirit Ever the irreverent rogue, defiant of establishment and death, there was my father, on the slow road. Nine lives cashed in, prostate cancer in remission, driving himself from his off-grid, country shack to dialysis in Palma, three times a week, until my younger brother Hieronymus (after Bosch, no less) had Read More
The Bees – nomadic meanderings (part II)
I’m sitting here with a cuppa in the early morning sun in my field in BCS. I’m taking in the expanse of tall shimmering palms, stretching out towards the jagged mountain ridges that divide this primal peninsula. There’s a swarm of bees hanging low, 5 meters away from my little trailer home here. I have Read More
Desire
What’s not to love about a little love poem ; ) Waiting impatiently to savour the smokey taste tobacco wine chocolate dark traveller’s lips upon mine softly once more to hear that husky voice chattering like water coursing across mossy mountain rocks singing the delirious song of being into my soul under my skin waiting
Syzygy
poetry – I mean, who fucking has time for poetry? but, there is a moment when the light hits you and you don’t feel separate a radiance obliterating every atom and purpose as you stand basking, blissful, desolate at the edge of the world
Autobiography of Eve
an ode to sex, desire, rebellion and fallen women Found this artwork in centre camp at burning man a few years ago (tracked down the artist through the playa vine for attribution) then stumbled across this poem and thought… they belong together! Autobiography of Eve by Ansel Elkins Wearing nothing but snakeskin boots, I blazed Read More
saved by beauty
Our one world, will be saved by beauty when we remember, how to see with the eyes of a child into the golden heart, of every living thing. We will feel deeply the earthly memories etched into the mountains of home the forgetfulness in the oceans heave, the forgiving
Invitation of the Ancients
Lithe bodied, we dance tall swaying arcs of verdure leaning into curved mists of space and aeons as heaving earth-body pulsing in tune, exultant sun, sultry moon we sink our roots, feeling deep around you, and swirl with wind, and stars reaching, we rise upon the long song, of creation.
The Return
Ekphrasis in response to Rilke’s Turning Point (below) letting all the deep rivers of the world – rush in / cracking open the quartz prism of your being – you surrendered – you no longer had a choice
The One
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou can’st not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold lover, never never can’st thou kiss, Though winning near the goal – yet do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair! Keats – Ode Read More
Letting go
This evening the burgeoning crescent moon hovers low over the western pacific a veil of ocean mist rising up to kiss beyond the mountains – where I lay in these steaming waters – earthly aromas rose geranium, thyme rustling bamboo leaves quiet cricket’s trill…
ship in the night
(ghazal) I called to my lover pining, under the moon yet alone I remain waiting, under the moon Searching heavens deep, she is sailing mid silent stars, scintillating, the moon Bold round gate, to silver garden framing ferny path to heaven, calling, the moon Sublunary torment – fruit of desiring sweet, gravitas – gratifying, the Read More
equinoctial
Half moon waxing or is she waning did I lose my sight heaving moon half dark half heavy moon light pulling at this floundering soul one long or lonely night and somewhere peers an owl west or east at the speckled sky sitting naked up-on the roof lanky cat and I as from the north Read More
Love’s Philosophy
by Percy Bysshe Shelley The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine In one another’s being mingle– Why not I with thine?
Fruit Gathering
Rabindranath Tagore, timeless poetic meanderings after my own restless heart (forsooth) “Where roads are made I lose my way. In the wide water, in the blue sky there is no line of a track. The pathway is hidden by the birds’ wings, by the star-fires, by the flowers of the wayfaring seasons. And I ask Read More
Brenda Hillman reads one of mine…
– start at 22m15s . . . A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me. ~ The Prophet. Khalil Gibran Drifting through the formless void, darkness all around. there is a shimmer of sound
I live my life in growing orbits…
which move out over the things of the world. Perhaps I can never achieve the last, but that will be my attempt. I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don’t know if I am a falcon, or a storm, or a Read More
My Garden
by Mehdi Akhavan-e Salis (M. Omid) Holding its sky tightly in its arms, the cloud, wrapped in its cold, damp sheepskin. The garden of leaflessness, is alone, day and night, with its pure, forlorn silence. Its instrument the rain, its anthem the wind. Its clothe is the cloak of nakedness.
equinoctial
falling away into grace becoming enfolded in darkening wings of winter’s embrace, from the east she calls, i love you
The Magpie’s Shadow
by Yvor Winters I. IN WINTER Myself Pale mornings, and I rise. Still Morning Snow air–my fingers curl. Awakening New snow, O pine of dawn!
Demeter in Paris
by Meghan O’Rourke You can only miss someone when they are present to you. The Isle of the Dead is both dark and light. Henry Miller told Anaïs Nin that the only real death is being dead while alive. The absent will only be absent when they are forgotten. Until then, absence is a lie, Read More
The Temple
Inside this temple are mountains and rivers there are forests of oak, mountain lions and moss Seismic shifts and lightening bolts are inside innervating every silent thought
Keeping quiet
Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still. This one time upon the earth, let’s not speak any language, let’s stop for one second,
radioactive haiku 1,2,3 …
#3 dusk in Fukushima wild plutonium horses ride jet-stream home
In a dark time
In a dark time, the eye begins to see, I meet my shadow in the deepening shade; I hear my echo in the echoing wood – A lord of nature weeping to a tree. I live between the heron and the wren, Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den. What’s madness but nobility Read More
mean free path
by Ben Lerner For the distances collapsed. For the figure failed to humanize the scale. For the work, the work did nothing but invite us to relate it to the wall. For I was a shopper in a dark aisle.