Archives for category: Poetry


one billion petals on the flower of life
one trillion worlds holding blooms
life’s water courses
life’s spark ignites
our world sleeps and dreams

one billion dreams, many thousands more lifetimes
thousands of bridges lead where
life’s travels swaddle
life’s visions persuade
holds dreams fast to land

one billion lands echo laughter, silent sadness
one cry brings insight within
life’s spark breathes deeply
life’s pause lifts fully
dreams bring us back home

no labels



Who’s to say?

You ask me for a word…

You offer me a word…

You take my words,

And assign a label.

From the zero point before labeling

To the blackened crash point once labeled

There emerges a gulping, gulf-ing ocean… of confusion and misinterpretation.

You ask me if that is the correct word?

How can I answer…

Assign your label…

Take: permission to re-define, re-describe, re-subsume my “reality”

And analyze accordingly…

The point completely missed, lost among the arbitrary yet meaningless words.

So I will sit and watch and listen

And contemplate the depth of love.


night life
anniston alabama
what’ll it be
starbucks or mcdonalds?
(is it army or marines?)

best not ask.

the hoppin’ packed joint leaves no asphalt uncovered
the jeep fits on the grass, tho.

(did you see those roll tide gray and crimson stripes on that thang?)

young man with natural ninja camo
and muscles like gourds of shea butter
might have been offended by my “sorry, I didn’t see you”
as I swung the door open into the darkness surrounding his face…
but he’ll never know my preferences
because I’m leaving – right now.

driving home from a wake,
smug atlantan.

superior in my angel-cloud-spotting serendipity
and my blessedness of knowing why i’m here
and my devotion to a friend’s mother.

i have no place for pride here,
or anywhere I may consider home.

we all cry tears of grief
that dissolve the himalayan salt
or lexan walls between us.

my iphone translates “menopause” into “leopards”…

shouldn’t that be “cougar”…?

My fellow blogger Ben Naga posted this last Sunday:


The elegance in the room
That no one notices normally
And is rarely spoken of
Remains when everyone departs

~Ben Naga
an empty room awaiting its contents

It calls to mind for me the moment whenever I remember that I’m not “alone”, no matter how empty and alone a room might feel…

And how our Guidance patiently awaits us, no matter how far we stray…

the heady swoon of privet…

tumble down amidst the blossoms
…the deep cool stream of life…

drunken with the scent of bliss,
the surface laps irrelevant…

the deeper dive,
the will survives…

another spring bears fruit.



Heroic poses
No one ‘noses…
It’s a tumble-down, fumble-clown, mossy hill to roll…

Trice we might
Try as we might
As long as we laugh,
It’ll be okay.