Friday, May 24, 2013

I am the diplomat for Art. Specializing in language arts.

I went on a walk w/ my dog…

Honeysuckle breeze
Light and lofty
in the air

I ride the waves
Sweet Zephyr breathes
w/o a care

The words
are Poetry
if the ear

can hear.
This is no celebrity
Spring is fresh life
You stretch your new legs
And give em a try

You are in your prime.

Open your eyes
From illusion

Succumb to the warm enchantment,
It will bless your heart w/ zeal!

Hail the red ball
In the morning

Sanguine life

Celebrate your

Wear the chest
Of a cardinal

Is best


This is the character
Of my Poem.

Psychology of
The Poet.

I is another.

Whatever we are
As Life,
Not as humans,
But as Life,
Exists forevermore.

But as humans
Our dreams and visions

My form
Is an infinite spiral

I guarantee
Nothing at all

Open am I
To Possibility in Life

There is a flow designed
To ride

Come along!

I can’t show you
The womb world

You must travel there

There is a beach called Diamond
If we can find it
We’ll adjoin as one.
Well I’ve met mine

She is draped in purple cloth
Cut of the richest folds

Meshed in the soft swoon
Under a silver moon
At the silent azure grove

w/in us

become more
than you thought


The only limit
Is what you set—
What if you set none?

The question mark
Looms o’er your head
Black as nothingness
Many flock to that pond
I flock to my own

I discovered
A murmuring stream

Running thru
The high alcove

Few will venture here
Where rests my abode

And river stones

I watch them
Drink stagnation

From the pond
Down below

Perspective shows me
Not to stoop to their level

Black morass of dead bugs
And mildewy vegetation

Provides the dregs
w/ their swill

while I
sip the flow of refreshment

Have you ever wished to know

Who the Poet is?

Thursday, May 9, 2013

I Give What I've Been Given

Peace is powerful.
I learned that we never
step in the same river

I watch it flow
thru storied canyons
of lime.

I'm adding
my story
to the flowing script they sing
at the Poet's Parade!
Have you danced below
the heady moonlight
on Walpurgis Night?

The scenes
will recur
eternal more.

There's a silver wine brewed
in the soft azure groves
where you can stretch-out, lay low.

I dipped my pen
into the ink of that flow
and became a fountain of poetry.

Have you witnessed
a man shattered
when he gazes into the mirror?

Our vital force
has origin
in one source.

I see my reflections
in those deemed

I don't fight for
church or state,
I fight for earth!

I don't believe
it is instinct
to fight.

I believe
cultural boundary-lines
are the stuff of war.

Once you gain
the knowledge
of Light,


Masks and Shadows
are singed
by the Light.

You might want to
go ahead
and draw the shades.

The Truth
will scald you,
and destroy your flesh


you wear
fake skin.
Acid corrodes
the veil
you hide behind.

Now bewildered by the Truth
where you were
black w/ lies.

The Key to the Kingdom
inside your head.

If you don't know that,
what do you know
about yourself?

Are you controlled
as slaves

I know,
if I could cast

one single stone
and ripple out,

I'd want the Poem
to infect like a germ
of Inspiration!

I wish to bestow
Music and Rhythm.

I wish to bestow
good times and feelings.

Cool and Smooth
is the ride we'll take.

No hurry to find
our Destiny.

She has a Mind
of her own.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Preserve Wilderness

Today I traveled to the local getaway. I go to this particular spot because I revere it. This is one of the few places I have ventured where I can rest. I can relax--become off-guard. And today, courtesy was violated. 
It disturbs me to witness such wanton desecration. To blatantly throw your trash on the ground, especially when there are garbage-cans surrounding the perimeter, is fucking despicable! If you have ever witnessed the sparkling laughter of a child as she runs thru the green meadow, her puppy-dog to her side, you would understand what a heinous act it is to litter pristine land. You cannot tarnish it--no matter the decadence you strew across it. The Universe is more powerful than the human species can comprehend.
If we don't clean-up our act, we could easily be disposed of--w/o celestial hesitation! You think this is the end? We are blurbs on a chain of being. We are a soap-bubble bursting. Each flying shard of shrapnel could carry the fruit of Life. It could land in loamy soil. I imagine the flowering of a new world. A world where the contents of your wallet don't define your value. The world of my vision is too immaculate to allow littering. I am viewing this earth. 
Preserve Wilderness.