no limb nor cone wind taketh

----wind unseen takes form in snarling havoc
on a dormant volcano monadnock,
     rousing rabble to a fevered pitch
     jostling trash bins, putting ice on every hitch,
          testing hinges and humpday's saddle
          frostbitten reins in canoe sans paddle,
pushing what into where, whistling creaks
draw chaos---------& order speaks,
     ice motes drive or dally floating haphazard
     crow high, my perch perfect for such blizzard
          yesterday pulled pavers, made patterns
          undone reform thought, austere as a lecturn,
and so unlike the fir, unfurling wildly thrashing air
yet losing no limb nor cone, debonaire
    as a stunt cosmos doing its own unravelings
    under silver laced mist, given body in sculpted hobblings,
          slowed to a point of stasis
          upon which reality has basis
wind everseen, how clean the forest floor at night
through ages-tested branches, embodying might.      


Mt Tabor Oregon 12-8-16

trumptanic

depleted uranium snails were trucked to the barge
ready to sail, given their toast and wore well buttered vests,
heard pitches from trump men with hard cards and small hands
gave balls for dancing in rings of fake fire
to later sell the rights and the inbetweens for penance recompensense
subdivided on the model grounds most fertiled loin
according to snaily statutes and serial loan sauces
on a voyage maiden flight over waves forced to lick the hull
the trumptanic doubted never and veered less
always heading mouthlike amid hurried hate hurricanes magnified
over precipices leading to more astute precipices which not even
nightcrawling profit slime ascend to topple
good concepts merely for their sap

furnishings polishings lessons& rules

the sissy distraction action resembled
an assembly line deleting perfections
contraptions melded in semblance detected
by bully missions bandied by sillygoats
horned in honored money some bloody
vice prevails in form of snails driving hate nails
chewed perversely by reverse motion vultures
antic frantic manic mites of power in a phallic tower
milling their might to a willing unright&shilling delight
sordid sadists,sceptics, scabbed up rebels and such
only suited to furnace the nation with furnishings
polishings lessons and rules

thunderstorm eighteen

blue harmonica dreams
stream across grey burlap eyes, 

soothe with nuance softness 

ears pointed toward distant sky 

fields of grace aplenty
washed clean, noontime weep 

the furrows gush a murky blood 

into willing earth tears seep 

the day of welcome wanes, dust beckons 

the lights dim, sun rises on
another's land melting cloudy
on oklahoma's rim 

(age 18, 1985)

froze eighteen

cautiously crossing the barbed wire fence
their eyes scanned the diamonded landscape,
december first. all trees and berried bushes
twinkled richly under the icy coat of morning rain.
as they walked the crunching meadow
the guns they held hung limply at ease by their sides
casual rambling stride through an ocean
of crackling glass stirred the
grazing doe from midday feast and it bounded
skyward one ,two, three
it was safe as ken squeezed
a trigger on safety

(age 18, 1985)

angst of eighteen

sing a song O bright green days
when light flows pink about the end of the maze
and ground underfoot is moist but firm
the soil feeds richly all needy that yearn
O show us this world
we all know it exists where money means nothing
&justice persists, we read but who writes
of such fabulous tales
in this day of starving children blown lost
by a gale, O where find decency
in a land of heart held fallacy
where rises among rubble the palaces,
look quickly----for night brings out death,
the sunset marks our next last breath
but they'll write and relate all thru our sleep
create nightmares of cliffs & fated leaps
O lucky for those who croak ever young,
bitter lies never eat at their tongues

(age 18, 1985)

round eighteen

the earth is round
but you can't touch the people
and the seas are wet
but you can't know yourself
the sun is warm
but you won't die in your sleep
and the sky is big but yer dreams are bigger
and harder to crush, realize & live with.

(age 18, 1985)

dreaming baby eighteen

i was riding second class youth eurail
amsterdam to geneva, two german
girls or silly women were sitting next to me
speaking to one another
giggling with furtive glances at me.
do you speak english? smile,
laugh, side to side nod no,
just a bit. oh.
i curled up in my space
a fetal position hands cupped to breast
content on my face sleep in my eye
shortly i awoke to hear snort snort stifle
why do you laugh? they reply,
blush of flirtation, you look like a
dreaming baby. slow bumpy
train ride, air so sweet.

(age 18, 1985)

dismal edge at eighteen

the pull of the tide, moons strength on earth 

minute organisms and bonding glue
that dissolves in death  

 spray of grey ocean 

as i wandered sickly into the dark 

the ferry ship bridging peoples twixt drought& rain 

after train ride from dublin to rosslare 

trench coats with collars stiffly angled, 

wandering beach driftwood smooth from battering slams 

soft thru relentless beating  

 

 waters fist
pearly white baby ears, macaroni shells
whatever i wrote in natures chalkboard
&how long did it stand? 

 

 was the cauliflower growing
over the gloomy grey swirl merely another ferry 

chugging steamy or was it offspring of yet more 

driving dismal edge depleting
water pounding loves? 

(age 18, 1985)

picnic serene and severe

should you find some island as near
that bulwark i call poetry, claim it without flag
in crisscrossing hammocks serene and severe,
drawn back from ocean's furnace slag
that once formed solitude a chalice
from which lips yet parched held moist
vital liquids, not tears nor malice
over life repairs which render one moot under hoist
with heart yanked up to inspect,
valves tapped with random challenge
to insinuate a negligent regime of derelict
maintenence most plainly false, as stands this stonehenge----
    quarried afar and neither clock nor ruin,
    let my state think music with no borders, nor tune
                                   *
serene carried a painted horse past the ocean
without bumping the beachball, or missing
the banker's awful name so severe
the clouds ran on schedule down his cheeks into a glacier of ferns
under which sandwiches of cucumbers giggled
to please the olden lady iron fence hinges
stacked into fort knox nachos under a terminal sun of teeth
for which even a jetty of insulated aluminum
could never hope to help traverse this devalued decade
so serene under her eight night umbrella of glass
made whimsy with her sisters and harkened to distant brothers
as typewriters tell telescopes all quantum riddles
are unboxed sphinx, neither purring nor asleep
claws on a milky way tail keeping day at bay
serene held a kite string and the horse got astray
                                     *
skylight on sunday, a memorial to war
cherry limbs and utility poles,
novices between crevices look for ants: hers.



Mt Tabor, Portland Oregon
5-29-16

jaguar puzzle

buried in composted season skins and furs
the minerals walking in water
occupy what once held form's cue in line
drawing linear time in coprolites
using various methods as heart cavity slowly fills with cement
revealing in negative space what once fed everything positive
bone and tooth easy keepers as they say
like this piece of a femur i found in the gravel pile at work
somehow it matched a piece i had missing
i discovered as i diagnosed my limp
unburied exhumation in rough slacks colored by earth
still there, only hardened resolute
it fits the jig in my jag
in my jugular jaguar juggle puzzle




portland, oregon   1-16-16