Backyard Reflections

IMG_0679Back yard reflections

Of a squirrel’s scolding

Or the painted crown moldings

My hands and knees black with earth

 

Wages paid in callouses

Long stretches of back road

Poetry, my heavy load

Each step a drum- beat rhythm

 

Alone, I was a mountain

Beaten by the wind

Growing thicker skin

Storm dancing, in solitude

 

Those are the moments that make you

With heart wide open, wanting

At all the world’s beauty flaunting

Leaping from your own peaks, to soar

 

A good place to learn your power

When silence begs introspection

Noting the fractal, the inflection

Teaching your ears to see and your eyes to paint

 

Yet I shall never return

To valleys of red cedar and pine

That passive state of mind

I would rather be a Tiger, than a Rose

 

 

 

*this was my view on the back porch today, and the reflections of the Lilly and the sky shimmering slightly with the wind made me… reflective.

I wrote this about my childhood in the Cascade Mountains of Washington

Advertisements

It Was Late In the Evening

An acute progression of time

Moments compressing in memory until…

Only impression remains

 

The ghost of a name

A lifetime confounded by pathways

Choices

Made in the darkness, when you believed

In your own light

 

How silence became a challenge

To speak your mind to the wind

 

How has it come to pass

That one who’s bare foot was knowing in the moss

Now at a loss

For a scent to follow?

 

A snake mayhap, though once a tiger

Still I move amoungst the grass

Knowing in my age, my page

The Hunt is in my breath

 

It’s not my poetry that whispers, it is the wind

Inside me

When a flower blooms, my petals unfold

I feed the hungry bees who come to glut

They in turn pollinate the blooms of another

As they flit out across the luscious, intercontinental web of meadows

Of WordPress-

As if one could press, squeeze the fruits of my knowledge

Into a simple post

 

Please

I am not so easily quaffed

 

Still…

I offer this stream to you

Of consciousness flowing clear and true

To sip and wash the salt away

From the ocean of apathy you keep at bay

 

 

I Love You, World

I don’t believe in God-government

I am a political atheist

I do not sing anthem praise to small pox blankets and internment camps

I have been known to hug trees and escort spiders outdoors on a small piece of paper

I dig lightly in the garden and thank the worms when I find them

I am a simple lover of sunsets and cold beer

I have never had much faith in government, but I have faith in people

I have known violence, ignorant hate, racism

Yet also have I seen such love from strangers that I wept, wordless with gratitude

I live in Hawaii, the most diverse state in the U.S.

Here  “white” is a minority among many who share the land, and I am aware that I am an interloper

I wish all America could see this Aloha, where we are all one mixed up family together

No matter the skin color of your neighbor, we are all Ohana

We say “Antie” and “Uncle” to everyone if we do not know their name

I have children of all colors mobbing my back door every day after school saying “Auntie did you make cookies?”

“Build a wall” he says

I spit

Ask China how that worked for them

Ask Berlin

As I said before, I do not believe in politics

Walls do nothing but give people a line in the sand to fight over

This land is my land, this land your land, and this land was stolen without shame

The world belongs to all of us, every bleeding one of us, and we are not the greatest mother fuckers walking on it

Respect, that’s what I believe in

To the birds who roost in the branches and shit on my car, the mail carrier, the homeless veteran, the local stray dog, the police who give me a ticket, all of them receive equal treatment from me

I do not give an eye for an eye

It makes me sad to see this same old worn out argument

Of who has the right to love, to live without fear, to live in this or that country

Telling someone what gender they should be sounds so utterly ridiculous to me, I just don’t understand the argument

“Mind your own business” my mother taught me, and I do

I want the world to know that I love you, all of you, even if you do not love me

I want the world to know that we the people are the majority, and the majority of people are kind

Too much are we taught to fear, to hate, to build walls between eachother

I say build a bridge

With a smile or a cookie

And all that troubled water will flow beneath

Blood Roses

The dead parts I cut away

With a knife I keep in my boot

For when I need a sharp metaphor

 

I sliced away the blackened flesh

Where naiveté and love had burned me

Sheared myself of tightly knotted scars

From years of calcified agony

 

I buried them beneath an ash tree

Among leaves of loam and Autumn

Where dead things belong

 

Imagine my surprise, when

Soon growing beneath the whispering boughs

Was a rose with petals as blue as your eyes

And thorns as sharp as your kisses