December 15, 2017




My god my marygold

You’ve had such a holy hold

On this old drifting imagined world

You’ve banged open the till

Abundant with bundles  apparent now

Inside this  2-lane roadside  joint

Trucks rocketing by

You’ve had such a holy hold on my

sprouting spouting spurting words of my own godly modern love/

My own heart murmuring/ my idleWild  chit chat/

My own head concurring nodding plodding plotting

“Don’t take this cup from me”.

I can ante up.

What I can bring to the table.

What I can ad lib/ to fib  my own fable.




.                                                            (from 5 or 6 years back)


Cognizant Nugget

October 23, 2017

I heard in the crosswords

Cain killed the Keeper of the Sheep

“Learn something  every day”

For most of it though  don’t go and lose sleep

Fragments On Lofty

June 23, 2017



It’s not been my story  to take inventory/

It’s  I can’t even   scare up  scant worry

About what I have, About what I would want/

I suppose  I could pose  but I can’t/

It’s  said/

“An  unexamined  life

Is  good  as  dead.”/

I said/

I’m a body afloat, solid thoughts go float too, y’know/

Lofty thoughts  not  caught  can ride

On both tides  High and low/

I’d deny having lied, but replied.






.                                                                                                           (years & years back)

from Dark

June 14, 2017

I’ll start.  It’s so dark you’ll know

Your thefts of thoughts

There  left to grow

Then grabbed!

Black  blossoms


Still proceeding from its seeds  plus

Silence, from its silence.



Upon  a  pond

Where big calm mists meet surfaces

Water bug clouds  dance down aways

And I stand to see through tree trances

This moon is broken enough to lend to substance

For  near and far bearings,  distances,

And  at first. existences.


I swear here’s where the strings swell in





There’s business on the burner.

These semi serious matters

sort of  need sorting out.

A lot of it needs looking at,

and some just ditched out,

not the other way around,

like when sure  attic treasure gets pitched down

to the cellar.







I think! that there’s a theory in

quantum physics

that holds that

the mere act of observation

changes and shapes events


The science of truth

isn’t my strong suit.

But I can watch from a garage roof;

take semi evaluative notes,

& make up semi reflective reports,

&  fake some







Surfacing from a waterfall bottom’s

Churning pool,  into mists,

The tall intense man they call The Baptist

Pulls you up,  and through, by your hair.

It all means too much now.

The colors hurt, and light on water

Diamonds up the air.

Though  new, non-consise  power  leadens you,

You rise again  to surface

Just  all  you


things people love

July 15, 2016

It’s pitchblack  and a pigeon

or  a  dove

Sits on this dashboard

in  this  car.

It looked enough like those stuffed

things  people  love.

I was thinking nothing of it

When it swelled full, far enough

For it to suggest to me,

Her filling full breast  told me this…

Her pulling my eyes to her,

Boldly, for both of us.

Oddly, the thing was fiery  in this dark.

Wings,  fiercely & stark.

They Open,  then  HeaveOut   one open hole.

Gone, she would leave one mark here

On this darkback soul

&  road.


I can’t have us cave

On  our  manifesting many..

The best of the rest of our fantasies

That fasten us.


We’ll see to them, intensely,

We’ll  fix  our  gazes.

Then, we can begin to address thee..

To shush serious nights and days.

Then,  we  can  enact, enable

One free & tender contentedness.






(from 2012)




May 1, 2016




An apple, itself ready for it’s  fall

Rolled towards him.

Looking up from his hands,

his distresses, in his Rousseau Tableau;

Big leaves, big cats, even lions;

Definitive lines

Staged around his hazy distresses.

Clearly and neat, his sweet fruit…

His  way for  his fall up.





.                                 (FROM 2009)




I contend,


When  honestly watched,

Starts  in  intention.

When looked at, no nonsense,

Before it cums sneezing  out,

When all one world,  as it appears,

Is  appraised,

It’s  appeased

By  half hard facts

&  a ton of impressions

To   meagerly manipulate

A clay  reclaimed

Setting The Table

October 10, 2012

“It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet people die miserably every day for lack of what is found there”        –William Carlos Williams, poet




Aw heck,  on a lark,

I likely heard a   “Hark,

Hear all this  beck and call”.

There, I see it had hailed from  icy altitudes.

So, when I wised up some, and tried to listen,

At this end, I waited, and while I waited, I understood.

It wasn’t  the explanation,

It was the going  on & on  deal,

Passing time,

It was  setting the table,  not the meal.