condition report

sounds coming from every corner
no silence anymore
this lacking of a common denominator
brings voices in the night
fractured and twisted tongues
within a common legion
too large to comprehend
or move fast enough
cell divisions
community integraties
tribal respects all sounds are garbled
broken up in the dance
voices cry out in the night
exclaiming their hunger to the moon
shared at midnight
failing to reduce and congeal
again to the zygote
of planetary mass
too small too many too fast



a bird from the red sandstone cliff
above with a meadowlarks voice
stitched my time back together
with a peck on my open palm
a look between eyes then
climbing up to the clouds
becoming a darkened fleck



flags flying high
signals in the air of imagined divisions
tribal pride wrapped in cloth
I’m just a human trying to understand
all these different colors
flying around in the air
I think I’ll raise my own pride
high up in the air wrapped in cloth
there will be no color
snow white I surrender
I picked up a weekly magazine the other day
nice black print and colorful pictures
concise reporting and well written articles
all about the divisions among us
and how alike we all are
it had the most unlikely name though
and these divisions fabrications both
I think I will fabricate my own time and division
wrap it in a cloth of snow white and fly it high
I surrender
it is just you and I
you see


light shift

the sun is not quite up
not just yet
the shadows are graying though
the street sleepy quite still
the pillow has it’s
night time dent
the sheets still warm
to turn and go down the hall
again as every day before
is not quite the same
the light striking the wall
has a rosy glow today
the very air is softer
gentler to the skin
it was just a turn
to go down the hall
the same as every day


oh my
here they come
those boys are back
to laugh
from the belly
as they look at mine
the sky holds
nothing for me
oh no
the spin cycle
i want to throw-up
my lettuce lunch
tommy says “it’s not fair”
he’s right you know
his guilt sets me right
blinking my eyes
i’m glad to see
my world once more
before i tuck
and hide inside
but that won’t stop them
they’ll be back
oh my



what ever happened to

faith arrives wearing white
with raven hair and ruby lips
speaking gently to the palomino steed
who’s pace is slow and sure
being her guide for she is blind

hope waits at the end of the lane
dressed in shades of blue
keeping her focus and agenda
within a bundle at her feet
as her blonde hair whips in the wind

charity is flying overhead
red hair in a tangle like a comets tail
sprinkles of light from her eyes
falling like dust down on everyone
who can see out of the corners of their eyes

these ladies of legend
are they greek
mesoamerican or egyptian
are they from before history
are they waifs of dreams forgotten


montezuma moon

do you feel safe
watching them move past
across the street
lives on their backs
home inside the shoe
pace the walk
no destination is better than
the next step
concrete walks asphalt pathways
sixty feet through the window
salvation lies ahead with
armies of blue
sixty feet just twenty steps away
we’re not so distant are we
not so far removed
inside this door at least
there is coffee
someone to keep score
points are won hard tonight
as always
twenty steps not much wear
and tear
smears and finger prints
on the glass between us
that’s all
traffic lights and shadows
freeze frame the view
my coffee has grown cold
my hands clammy
as I read to you
thinking of them
who is safe
who is warm
who is worn smooth
should I be reading to them
thinking of you
(small change pennies
the coppery taste
of fear be sure to tell
the cashier to keep
the change)


7 rings

chrome plated jumbo shrimp
stand at the ready at my door
separated sentries against intruders
my ever-ready guardians of the gate
to my personal kingdom
their telephonic shape and purpose
eludes me at times
they have no connecting wires
or transmitters attached
yet they receive me well
yawning at my continued excesses
and excuses for living beyond
their entryway and exit
I place the receiver to my ear
the transmitter is by my lips
I crave to hear your heart beat
through skin
not hard chrome
my knights of armor will blink an eye
and look the other way to let you pass
undetected unannounced with blessings
to enter and exit at your will
while I am the only one who must use
code words and gestures
to trip the switch
from inside-out or to outside-in


sitting cross legged on the ground

a dialog with  voices  stars  suns  moons
how many turns I know not the count
I cared not for the lessons continued
the fire pit stones turned black
with age and heat
the fresh white clay pipe
became worn smooth and reddish
brown from use and smoke
my eyes were closed then opened
I had to leave to find
the moose in snow and frost
to watch his nostrils exhale steam
I had to leave to find the swan
glide on water to watch
the ripples and wakes left behind
I had to leave to find the lizard
in the sun lifting first
one foot then the other in the heat
I had to leave to find

keyboard samba

a soft summer samba moves
swaying breezes through
the palms as I
see your mind
a printed map
before me
on the screen
your face
hidden by space
your voice
this map
with delineation’s
directions to
pathways of
to a world
where borders
don’t exist
a questing for
civilities to be
the norm
the cadence of the dance
of your fingertips on the keyboard
moves with the summer samba
I wonder which songs
you give voice to
as you type
I wonder which
colored light
bounces around
in your eyes
as you gently tread
the pathways
before you


bicycles to kitchens

it was just a dream
I keep telling myself
there you were
you said it first
your name is Claire
it was just a dream

Poetry Ch. 2

Poetry Ch. 3