February 5, 2013

I’m stretching & swaying

to the intermezzo

We eked out a way

to dampen the dramas,

to hamper the threat of

the dissolution

of this one





October 15, 2012

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of what might

just happen in late night

screwball comedies,

A black & white


Where he keeps just missing her,

& unknown to her,  her one & only is  so near,

& you watch  & wait for them to wise up,

For when their timing improves.

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of just sitting tight,

& trusting the plot twists,

& our protagonists,

& all that insignificant subterfuge

Until it all plays out that

They can take cuts in the

Everything’s-Fine   waiting line

Instead of that

He keeps just missing her.






(from years back, and now)


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.


Big Moony Skies

October 1, 2012

I’ll give a knowing nod

To the brother inside the  IPod

“I rub my wounds with alcohol”

I love the sound of fuck all

I feel everything but small

Enraptured under big moony skies

Where prayers stand a chance,

Where joy awakens eyes,

Guts are calm, but  hearts  beat  restless

&  Dance as there’s  a man and moon romance.


September 28, 2012




.I hate that

It came out  not right

Translating  with all my might

I misspoke.. you mistook…

I’d cracked a crooked smile, not smirk

I’d factored in the farcical

Nature  of  nature.





It’s that  it’s sad that

Few hymns  from pews  will praise

Coincidented   chaos.

Sad, we’re not force-fed all the fanciful

Nature  of  nature.


Like Neutral Luck

September 15, 2012

Some souls surely cry

“..If it wasn’t for the bad luck..”

Break for a deepbreathe breathy sigh,

“..I’d have no luck at all.”

Look,  My luck is neutral.

It lies like algae

On secluded moon moody ponds.

It doesn’t flow, or creep.  I fell

FadeToBlack asleep on a chair;

My book & pen, and nearly me,  there

On to the floor.

Alone, on knee,  bent,

I’d known I  loved rehoarding

My words, and alphabets–

They’d shifted some,  and had come

To a new sense.


Would it likely be by odd luck?

Or meant as, also likely,




September 14, 2012


“The blind man loves you with his eyes, the deaf man with his music.  The hospital, the battlefield, the torture room, serve you with numberless petitions. On this most ordinary night, so bearable, so plentiful in grave distractions, touch this worthless ink, this work of shame. Inform me from the great height of your beauty.”

-Leonard Cohen, “Petitions” from Death Of A Ladies Man


September 13, 2012

I lost a friend tonight.

The fleshSTOP forever kind of loss.

When he didn’t show up at the job

He went  on & on  about leaving

& Joining his dream;  Free  in Amsterdam.

Friends from that job

Went and found his body.

He’d lived alone in his own woods

Since his wife died.

Yet I knew him to truly enjoy his day.

(He was ahead of me that way)

His own time he’d savor.

Complex gourmet foods he’d prepare for himself.

He’d  savor

Simple fairweather, days & nights, for himself.

Goddamn, he wanted

& Waited on Amsterdam,



RIP  Dave


August 30, 2012

this is retrieved from years ago, it showcases a damn fine vacation, one I am about to repeat, starting tomorrow. I thought I’d reprint it to mark a “time out” sign here. See ya in a coupla weeks.




I’d say Seattle’s a city that’ll likely

Set you so free that you’ll likely

Be reminded of the high flight where you might just

Find me,  plowing clouds way way above the bird play.

I see Seattle as a solution

Not too much a town to touch down to w/

Warm outstretched arms on a runway

To catch a wretched, falling runaway,

A getaway  on holiday.


II.     W A K E

“Guests must remain on the patio”

Insisted the sign in a winded sun.

I read it right there  in my Adirondack chair

On a cliff  so clearly steep.

I feel I might have fallen  deep

Narcoleptically Asleep again, Though surely,

The luringly named

Pacific Ocean below

Drew me here, to it’s  wake up here

This pace  maker  peace

could liven this



There’s this tree, I took three pictures there.

A tree creatively crooked

& pointing down most of the Oregon coastline.

At least three pictures.

It rather weathervaned  the ocean edge

& pointed, as a staggeringly lovely hag

might with her stick. A crow

lights in her hair, & All of it

blown forward

down the edge.

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