Saturday, July 14, 2018

Clouds At Sierra Foothills

A big universe.
We are part of its size.
It takes time to
Realize,  lift into
Colliding winds--
Skies swept in needs,
In wills conflicting,
Until, as one, the
Clouds pile high 
Upon the hills.

Wednesday, June 13, 2018




Unexpected always,
Like wild strawberries
Or lupine in dunes
Appear and hold earth together,
You walk with an open book
Beyond the brim of my hat.
I look.
"It's only a mystery," you say.
Yes, it is certainly that:
You on the path to
Rahima, bright day;
Me, trimming escallonia;
Detectives on separate ways
In an old universe
That still glistens.
You speak.
I listen.
"This, I am more.
Something else that is more."
Hair full of fairylamps,
Downward flutter of fingertips,
A gesture stirring stellar dust,
And I believe you,
I must.

Thursday, June 7, 2018

Enormous Future

It's all here, isn't it?
This collection and
Dream upon the past--
What happens is
What happened last
Always shut in seamless
Suture-- gives anew
Onto wonders vast,
An enormous future.

Friday, May 11, 2018

Image Available

My compound eye
Spies old friends
Moving out --they go.
I shout: no, please stay!
Sadness, they have
Found some madness
And followed it away.

Thursday, April 5, 2018

In Judgement

I have tried to do
As I should.
I have tried to be good
In this miracle of you--
This sphere of sea and stone.
We know we're not alone
But part of you, Universe--
Your heart and first
What your vision sees.
Overhead, the moon 
Gets snagged in trees.
This is understood.
I try to be good,
But nothing could induce
Me to climb and set it loose.

Monday, March 26, 2018

Cogito Naranjado Sum (2)

We  think, 
Therefore are,
And must be--
Here to think, 
And be, by asking
How: how is such
Thought defined 
As much by what is 
As what is not
Then all thought
That is not me,
I must also be. 

 Cogito Naranjado Sum (1) appeared 4 years ago on this blog after decades of tinkering. I revisited it this evening with the intention of correcting a fallacy. I don't blame Descartes --beyond "The Substance of Dualism"-- but only myself. If we consider an entity, like a cat curled up asleep in a pie tin --as one of ours often did-- we see some existence is fluid, seeking the shape of its container. So is thought. That's really what this poem is about. Enough said. I welcome opinions, all opinions --and appreciate them without criticizing them.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Thanks Lisa, 7:27 P.M.

Each daffodil echoes the
Universe in explosion.
We're all dust from
The same flower.