Thursday, October 29, 2009

October Morning

Dissolving poems swirl in eddies
near the edge of dreaming.

Pluvial drumming at dawn
plays cryptic cadence on windows.

Words tumble out,
pour forth from the heavens.

A squall of poetry
runs in rivulets outside,
where

a skeleton of a leaf
clings to the oak branch
for one last dance.

Wake up.
Tilt your head open.
Drink it all in.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

New Poem for Week 3

New Moon

They call the darkness “new” –

the ancient ones – they knew

Time takes its bites.

The sky will grow another,

and the yellow wafer

will dissolve in the morning sky

like words on our tongues.

New Moon

They call the darkness “new” –

the ancient ones – they knew

Time takes its bites.

The sky will grow another,

and the yellow wafer

will dissolve in the morning sky

like words on our tongues.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The Trouble with Justice

The Trouble with Justice
(after Billy Collins)

The trouble with justice, I realized
as I watched autumn rain darken the sidewalk –
cool October breezes across my cheek
blanket of grey clouds in the sky –

The trouble with justice is
there is no justice, only smaller injustices,
no system to completely smooth the unfairness of things
which leads to battles with demons like Raktabija, so powerful
his wounds spill blood gushing a torrent of clones.

How will it ever end? How can it ever end?
We are all guilty of something.
Unless the day finally arrives
that quenches our desire for revenge
and exterminates the white ire
of religiously-inspired enthusiasts,

and there is nothing left to do
but to wallow silently
in the sins of our own indiscretion.

Justice is what eludes me
as, voiceless, I watch through the window
unable to keep truth from slinking out of the room.

Mostly, Justice makes me long for forgiveness
and I patiently wait for the Lady herself
to putdown the scales and throw off the blindfold.

And along with that, to do away
with the Old Testament aphorisms
“An eye for an eye”

What a sorry group of creatures we are
demanding equity in all crimes
while awaiting karmic justice to befall
all that have wronged us,
I think as rain washes our daily dust
into storm drains beyond our sight
and it brings to mind the saying–
An eye for an eye makes everyone blind –
(which I stole from a bumper sticker
I once saw on a fall drive through the mountains)

instead of remembering to forgive seventy times seven,
spoken by one whose blood ran over the dark battlefield,
aware of the smallness of human justice,
but awaiting us with open arms.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

On Being Blue

(I)

Fall begins.
The breeze blowing in her soul
becomes a squall.
Empty shells wash ashore.
Larger storms are brewing off her coast.
For now the lighthouse stands.

(II)

Today I watch a Utube video
a dog playing alone
in the family swimming pool.

Running up tailored rocks
sliding down the waterfall
falling into the pool below.

Pure unbridled joy buoyed
by the crystal blue shimmer.

I want to be that dog.
Be able to jump into the azure abyss,
trust that I will paddle to its edges,
climb over the sharp stones,
and fall and rise again and again.

Instead I sink like a stone
into the bottomless indigo depths.