my life is one bigfat magical

9 October 2011 § 1 Comment

my life is one bigfat magical
Kiss On The Mouth.
a nice one i mean,
not messy or too hard or too short,
but a Perfect Kiss,

because
autumn comes and fills these lungs,
and nothing is lacking, not one good thing.
(of course there are lots of lacking things
but this is me being grateful for simplicity;
oh! but don’t you dare think the lack feels bad.

have you ever kissed a horse
on the graceful neck behind the round cheekbone
right on the arching beautiful scented coat
smiling too close to your lips to see
big and powerful
with every Might and every Beauty in absolute symbiosis
forever?

i have.
and that is my love.

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Of Invitations

31 July 2011 § Leave a comment

at times
one must decline the most honorable
and accept the most radical
Of Invitations;
and here/now i present these examples:

.still
among stately towering family
(notquite oldgrowth)
–cousins, at least, if not siblings–
whose welcome/smile was
sincere
of course(emphatically confirmed by beetles/walkingkisses)
but to stay
would be to
face tall expectations,
like marrying into the Amish.

then,

.still
before fluttering alluring depth
and lovely drifting woodbodies,
oh!greentree/mountain/sunshine peak-surrounded;
that laughing clarity-blue
cannot,
Must Not
be refused
(to gaze is to commit)/and worth every shiver.

delighted

Happy Birthday Bob Dylan

24 May 2011 § Leave a comment

.
swarthy with new coffeeroast, my
skin relates to rampant high,
choke on moments’ friction-by;
Happy Birthday Bob Dylan.

past and future collide to now,
if you can’t help i’ll show you how
blind and moteless eyes endow,
Happy Birthday Bob Dylan.

walk along behind the fence
and Honest Think up through the bents,
faces gaunt or white or tense–
Happy Birthday Bob Dylan.

today

26 April 2011 § 3 Comments

today
is my favorite day
because
my bright soul
greets your mammoth clouds,
sky,
with awe and gratitude;

and i like how you are now a cleancold  playful shower
and now a yellow lightpouring smile,

and my lungs know that life is lovely
even pedaling up the long slopes pointing there where polarbear cumulus forgot his lofty airs
and bellies down to your rooftops, town,

you town where i live
(but mostly breathe)
and smiling friends are gladglad company
–that bliss of friendplace where no matter how deep you dig things are okay;

but there’s more, the most meaningful more
comes in
because there is a Voice

whose Delight it is to puzzle
for us,you,me,humanity,
puzzle for us the Path,
the good,worthwhile,eternal,yes,soulsearing
Path that we Seek,
all we,
and the Voice speaks for the listening,
do you know?
the Voice is when crashingdistraction
of worldworld you shove away
(you can shove it away, you can!)
and then you can know for Real.

and so
today is my favorite,
and when tomorrow is today
(i don’t know)
maybe it will be my favorite too?
in that today
i’ll check for you
and let you know.

inexorable

14 April 2011 § 2 Comments

inexorable
wander
lift out and set aside
to fall behind your shoulder in the wind those crumbling-anyway thoughts
that maybe sometime you could cycle back and piece into cohesion
but keep keep walking walking
walk walk on like every other day

halfway through that so-good story
set aside for drinking in numbing in pulling in
because You Are An Essential Part of this wondering world
wondering demanding seeking enormous generation
but why?

Grandmother says we go on, we go on

daisy chains die

9 April 2011 § Leave a comment

daisy chains die
when you wear them all afternoon
up the mountain
into grassland coastview Glory Of The Sunshine
with silent new soulfriends
and talkative old acquaintances,
up and around and back down the same way
and home again,

they don’t last.
in case you were wondering.

When Death Comes, by Mary Oliver

5 April 2011 § Leave a comment

.
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.