Monday, March 28, 2011

Closer To Blue

Closer to blue today than when we walked in the city.
Together, alone, drenched in light and the gaze of strangers.

I'm closer to blue than I was yesterday, in the park.
The silent cat-tail stalks, like fingers accusing heaven.

When you faded to blue, all the things I love did too.
I am drenched in silence, lost in the world, way closer to blue.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Ralph Murre and me trading stanzas

I was tempted to play my flute today
until I heard the wind through
the broad wings of a Red Tail hawk


I tried whistling
blues in the Laundromat
but ran out of quarters
& lost the dryer's rhythm


I heard that stones
were rocks when they were young.
Guess it takes time to
bring out our inner stone-ness.


well-rounded the stone
at work in a foundation wall
after carrying glaciers


The only gift we can offer the dead
is to remember them.
Mortar them into our foundations
and they will hold us up.


There were hold-up men
down at the bank today --
the president, v.p., & branch manager,
robbing patrons.

Who said our leaders are lousy?
We have the best that money can buy.
And when our icons have fallen,
we raise such a hue and cry.

We'd like to string 'em up right now, see?
We'd like to hang 'em out to dry,
but underneath the tailored suits
they look a lot like you and I.


A bottle of wine,
a book of poems and
the moon shining through the door.
So much time I have wasted.


wine for the tongue,
poems for the ear,
moonlight for the eye,
and all for the spirit.
For what is the clock?

Monday, March 14, 2011

LIBERATION

Ladies, ladies,
line up neatly.

Goddess, whore,
mother, friend,

I see you now
for the woman you are.

I’m sorry I was
typically male in these things.

If I knew you were
as human as me,

hurt as me, sad as me,
as hopeful as me,

back then as I know now,
I wouldn’t a had to write

this fucking poem.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Weather

You come toward me like summer thunder,
flashing that smile, rolling them hips,
I stand like I’m terrified,
like I just put myself in the path
of a locomotive cold front,
But I’m not afraid,
and wouldn’t move if I could.
To your storm,
I am a rock,
and you do not chip at me
with earthquakes, meteors, or lava
but with rain, soft and cool,
having it's way with me.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Christian?

AN OPEN LETTER TO
THE MINISTER AND CONGREGATION
OF THE WESTBORO CHURCH

I think that GOD has turned his face from you.
You are like children who want notice at any cost.
What you say is not Christian,
or God-like, or even human.
I am afraid you are lost, bound for bitterness and hurt.
You have forgotten God. You have forgotten the face of your Father.
You have forgotten your brother and sister.
(Your mother doesn't even like you.)
Where in the Holy Book does it say to despise the warriors?
Where in the Good Book does it say God embraces the death of anything?
Read to me where God says it's ok to hate.
You are warping your soul, giving Christians a bad name.