An oceanic sky

An oceanic sky

The clouds passing below

The trees are stalactites

On red lights cars can go

Aid for billionaires who

Are hungry for more greed

In an upside down world 

It’s them we choose to feed

The skies are not blue and

The skies are not blue and

The clouds not pearly white

An ominous gloom more

Like a Halloween night

Where has my neighbor gone

Unmarked cars in a swarm

Indiscriminate seize

Just the start of a storm

Drowning in the plurals

Drowning in the plurals

No singularity

Tripping over thrice’s

Lacking sincerity

Everything is braided

This moment is not still

Chasing for this one thing

That will pour out and fill

Is it worth the wander

Is it worth the wander

An ocean at the end

Do we just turn around 

Or wade in the transcend

Is it worth the wonder

The shapely question mark ?

Girl with the pearl earring

An ear above the spark

So little and so much

So little and so much

Unaccountable days

Cornfields disappearing 

Cars in parking lots graze

Both prior and future

Look at the time in tow

Six months from winter no

Matter which way we go

The wind brushing beneath

The wind brushing beneath

White linen on clotheslines

Kicking rocks down the street

Sycamore sunlight shines

Not asking for reveals

No evidence of time

A small arc of the Earth

A sense of pi and prime

Hearing my own echo

Hearing my own echo

Self-awareness rebounds

Questioning my meaning

Improving when it flounds

And in the Overwhelm 

Many voices have say

I listen for chorus

Or random ricochet 

It escaped between us

It escaped between us

Like some poorly drawn sketch

Without hesitation 

Or intention to etch

But lightning to tree trunk

Consumptive line of fire 

I quickly withdrew and

Returned to my prior

Living in the fractions

Living in the fractions

The sun above still whole

A full summer season

The new out-sprinting ole

Leaves are excited for

Rain from blue clouds forming

Even the weakened tree

Rejoices in storming

Thankful for witnesses

Thankful for witnesses 

And too, my seeing eye

Safe harbor boats sharing

Our day journeys and sky

Knowing each other’s dreams

Play music for their dance

Listen to their feelings 

Without any advance

Waiting for the frontier

Waiting for the frontier

The land will not take me

The harsh realities

Will shape and remake me 

Change and acceptance of

Loss is not a lesser

Letting go does not mean 

I’m not the possessor 

Empty handed after

Empty handed after

Surrendering the chase

Sidelined by dreaming big

And not keeping the pace 

Accepting the outcome

The resilience award

But now a spent matchstick 

Back to the drawing board

Many dying in dust

Many dying in dust 

Sediment shoulders firm

Plastic plants in corners

Or cars left on the berm

Recalled experience 

No substitute for growth

Let’s open a window

A heart or mind or both

In this moment of We

In this moment of We

Two moths without a light

Touching without trying

In scribbles of our flight

Our wings with dust to dust

Weakened by each collide

Until darkness claimed us

The ultimate blindside

Was it just yesterday

Was it just yesterday

The last traces of snow

And only last week when

We flew kites and let go

Or we summered up north

Before the next school year

And kept dreams to ourselves 

Should naysayers be near

Unity does not mean

Unity does not mean

Uniformity must

Iron takes many forms

Molten, hardened and rust

Hillsides diverse with trees

Make a forest or woods

Decency is all the

Woulda’s, shoulda’s and could’s

No one was here to hear

No one was here to hear

Oak trees are on the ground

The evidence is clear

Even without a sound 

A fallen Greek column

I found your sawed up trunk

Or like the Titanic 

Less the ocean but sunk

Sirens as the rain falls

Sirens as the rain falls

A jet and train passing 

Cars rumble the steel plates

The rhythm amassing 

An old homeless person 

Waiting for a walk sign

Cornered on a corner

Like a coastal ridge pine

The underside of leaves

The underside of leaves 

Now the color of moon

Are waiting on storm clouds

A tarnished silver spoon

Skies blinking on and off

In the distance thunder 

Nesting on my fourth floor 

In Overwhelm wonder

Sunday’s best on Thursday

Sunday’s best on Thursday

Outside drinking a Coke

Waiting for an outcome 

In Canada fire smoke

A man with a gas can

A car on the roadside 

Traffic at a standstill 

As long as it is wide

Go to sleep and sleep well

Go to sleep and sleep well

Sixth sense or fifth season

No curtain calls but the

Seeds are loose and breezin’

Not a surrender and

I never was at war

Battlefield burials

Flower bulbs and no more

A struggle to express

A struggle to express 

Emotions in objects

These worthless souvenirs

Simple and yet complex

A part of you instilled 

Mere holding them revives

The joy and sentiments 

Voraciously survives

Lonely always has me

Lonely always has me

Self-comforting applause 

Sadness soothed by sighs or

Melancholy on pause

So much space between stars

Constellations are pearls

Not stranded on string but

Separated by hurls

Not far and none too deep

Not far and none too deep

Water in just one hand

Tangent touching with time

Stars and the grains of sand

Remembrances and dreams

Tree rings and ripened fruit

Baby steps and broad thoughts

Maintenance and pursuit

Self-taught and still learning

Self-taught and still learning 

Pinned by a world flooding

Survival or power

Scraping or bath blooding

All rushing in beneath

The stillness of night sky

Here on a narrow ledge 

Studying to get by

Purchasing time with self

Purchasing time with self

A loss to just maintain 

Like a tablecloth with

A hole from scissored stain

A price for a fraction

A partial to survive

Not one-hundred percent

I’m near to ninety-five

Directly overhead

Directly overhead

A great blue heron flies

Intent on making rounds

Here I am by surprise 

For this moment briefly

Out of my corner space

A tourist of living

Concord and not rat race

Fine memories of the

Fine memories of the

Afternoon we wasted

Not realizing it was

The Grand Life we tasted

An ephemeral page

The ink hasn’t faded

The Our Town nothing day

Submerged and not waded

Rain check my destiny

Rain check my destiny

The peonies in bloom

An artist’s yellow is

Contrasting sense of doom

Blank pages of storm clouds

Are somewhere framed in blue

Living life in margins

With questions, comments, clue

Gray clouds in my pockets

Gray clouds in my pockets

Early frost on my heart

The race already won

Me here at my false start

Autumn meant for autumn

Not in the month of May

Tulips and not asters

Orchard grass and not hay

Early definitions

Early definitions 

No longer defining

Not like wisteria

Stronger as it’s vining

Change, a reality

Allowing much to go

But throw seeds in winter

On top of winter snow

Inch worms are measuring

Inch worms are measuring 

The Earth and all its wide

Just like youth until wings

Take them from side to side

Water forgets as we

Wade in and march in stride

A joyous memory 

That goes out with the tide

Pale dot in pale waters

Pale dot in pale waters

With no awe at first light

Underneath microscopes

Regret of oversight

A hiding octopus

With a sac of black ink

Confusing predators 

It’s poetry and think

Living life on the tuft

Living life on the tuft

Where wind is blowing wheat

Or the updraft between

These buildings on my street

Windows to outer space

How planted we all are

But even a small crest

Is closer to a star

The feathers together

The feathers together

Two clouds traversing sky

Pin cushion flowers pinned

On hillsides passing by

A wake up call sounding

Bird falling nonetheless 

The phoenix is flapping

In ashes with MS

The nursery is gone

The nursery is gone

The swan song lullaby 

The view from a round tree

That reached up for the sky

Yet still far from the stars

Expectations in check

Even clouds are too high

Dreams in a bottleneck 

How many others here

How many others here

The before and after

Unknowns and knowns sharing

The basement to rafter

The journey consumed with

All clatter and clutter

The end resulting in

A silence or flutter

Again the cloud cover

Again the cloud cover

The road winding up hill

This toss away moment

Full racing into nil

Choices looming ahead

The hesitant gavel

The high speed highway or

The slow progress gravel

Edited and revised

Edited and revised

Yesterday is no more

Two plus two equals five

Double down an encore

Truth seeps up through soil and

Will have its day in light

When the pendulum swings

Far left there is no reich

Cradle me crescent moon

Cradle me crescent moon

The North Star is hiding

The Pacific below

It’s hard waves soft tiding

Wandering but not lost

All tomorrows start dark

Like creativity

Find a sunrise or spark

In an April shower

In an April shower

The sky is Rothko black

Time is giving time to

A short reflection back

Souls colliding with souls

The end day sifts us out

Yet separate ways not

Too far we need to shout

I will not ask again

I will not ask again

Science is of no use

Abstract Art the closest

But not the final Zeus

Religion is full of

Such mediocrities 

But has been around since

Plato and Socrates 

This paradise be damned

This paradise be damned

Find the next heaven place

With a pedestal where

Your mask looks more like face

To never return here

Honesty is brutal

Angel and then devil

Perfection then futile

Two lines of poetry

Two lines of poetry

We lie metered and rhymed

A chorus in canon

Two alchemists sublimed

Alternating verses

Throughout the day until

Exchanging lines flurry

The crescendo fulfill

Traveling on a gaze

Traveling on a gaze

The Crazy Horse eyeing 

Far from self where souls lie

Love longing and sighing

Wed to infinity

Beneath an atmosphere 

With lifeless marriage vows 

And dead-ending frontier 

Already committed

Already committed 

Sins cloaked in secrecy

Mouse traps ready to snap

And ensnare decency

Empathy is not wrong

There’s no toxic kindness

Any belief of it

Is madness, pure blindness

A starry night without

A starry night without

Shining stars and cloud swirls

No Van Gogh movement or

Cypress in painted curls

Stagnant and no progress

Stunted growth and grapple

The worm is in the core

Of the fallen apple

Are we back there really

Are we back there really

The bent willow with ants

Sycamores shedding bark

And the fire hydrant stance

And the stresses of youth

Worry more than wonder

The forces of nature

And parental thunder

Robins are unaware

Robins are unaware

The clouds keep passing through

Migrations and mating

The same old and brand new

The World Order changing

It’s already begun

The proof is in data

Not a rifle or gun

A sucking without sound

A sucking without sound

The fable faithful ticks

Heads swelling due to their

Chain choker crucifix 

Beware their holy ground

Be sure to check your skin

They attach to you with

Imaginary sin

The evidence of Here

The evidence of Here

Truncated trees a sign

In curls of time rolling

Antony Gromley pine

Clouds sinking into sleep

Between the hills napping

Taking a bow without

Curtain call or clapping

A transparent moon stares

A transparent moon stares

The stars too shy to shine

In the quiet of light

Spring flowers and a pine

A small plane mows the sky

While a crow flying low

Casts shadows like blowing

Newspapers from ago

No new beginnings here

No new beginnings here

Holding to fifty years

Of fight and hard progress

Gone! As fascism nears

And red breasted robins 

And magnolia trees

Are oblivious of

Truths falling to their knees 

Push back the soil so that

Push back the soil so that

A fossil cannot form

Keep back the wind and rain

Or any passing storm

Even in my lifetime

Echoes are growing faint

Beauty succumbing to

Sediment and not saint

Nein, nein, nyet, nyet

Nein, nein, nyet, nyet

We are in strong cahoot

The axis of evil

And the Nazi salute

Keep drinking the Kool-Aid 

As long as it tastes good

Fuck around and find out

And shoulda, woulda, could

The button vacancy

The button vacancy

Long ago Christmas tree

The childhood souvenir 

That holds the love of we

Ships lost in sandy sleep

Like youth we can’t recoup 

Trapped in picture frames while

A thousand goodbyes loop

Offering my lowlands

Offering my lowlands

Let your overflow flow

Banking the rainfall or

The melting winter snow

Or call out from the top

When ascension is reached

Or be on the lookout

Of bottled message beached

The stars are falling and

The stars are falling and

Red bleeding into white

Truth wilting under lies

Lost sense of wrong or right

The mother of freedom

Wailing as she watches

Her printed name on clothes

As the meaning botches

Planning in the finite

Planning in the finite

It was always that way

The endless tomorrows 

Just a seemed far away

The future grows closer

Are the clock hands now mine

The curvature of Earth

Is looking like a line

Winter becoming lace

Winter becoming lace

Spring blue is peeking through 

Bulbs rarely make mistakes 

Like magnolias do

Asking myself if I

Have the urge to renew

But we touch our dreams at 

The moment we ensue

On a vibrating string

On a vibrating string

The blurring of the line

Like a fast moving swing

Or twisting of a twine

Still holding to center

Equilibrium point

The ball and the socket

The bend within the joint

And what if love is not

And what if love is not 

The answer, so what then

Can hate consume the air

Anonymously penned

Even uncontested

In public arenas

In time the wild kingdom 

Must hold back hyenas

My corner of the World

My corner of the World

Does not have an ocean

I cannot see mountains

Or wheat fields in motion

There is a locust tree

A busy intersection

With people cross walking 

Which goes without mention

Choosing from the plurals

Choosing from the plurals

The index extended

Uncertainty abounds 

Lavish hopes pretended

The forks in a forked road

Reality in check

So much chance in the cards

In a limited deck

Returning your worn shoes

Returning your worn shoes

And now I understand

Internal combustion 

And the lay of the land 

Beauty on the hillside

Butterflies in decline

Trampled footprints, feelings

Without an outward sign 

Having sidelined myself

Having sidelined myself

In this watercolor sky

Full of melancholy 

And no response to why

Shades paler and paler

Here where soft lines are drawn

Twilight into murky

Reflection into yawn

Looking past the weather

Looking past the weather

Rain cannot wash away

The soil on our soil, the

Stain and the raw decay

Greenland is raging red

Canada is fire hot

They are not for sale and

America they’re not

A sliver of the moon

A sliver of the moon

And a small patch of land

With a handful of wings

Longing for understand

Underneath a lonely

Streetlight with tortured moths

Confused into circles

In lieu of moon betroths

Smoke inhalation kills

Smoke inhalation kills

More than the fire itself

Crawling from LA to

The continental shelf

Playing golf in the south

Or skiing in Vermont

Ducking in doorframes in

Kyiv without detente 

Further and further out

Further and further out

From houselights to just stars

And blinking satellites 

Cruising like tourist cars

And far beyond the curve

Horizon everywhere

The uncharted island

Unloaded barrel flare

Sometimes in my regrets

Sometimes in my regrets

I find small dignity

What was said and not meant

In our eternity

We have to seek futures

And both redraw our map

No river between us

Or a wide mountain gap

Witnessed by the sunlight

Witnessed by the sunlight

Time took no heed to keep

Unrequited sharing

Faithless, no need of leap

Smiles on a lowered head

Un-orchestrated touch 

Knowledge to move forward

Together but as dutch

Unable to make chord

Unable to make chord

Isolating to pluck

Having strummed too long to

Find myself needing tuck

Like breaking up clouds for

Cumulus and curling

Or an AWOL starling 

Perched instead of whirling 

No ground beneath our feet

No ground beneath our feet

Dog whistle now foghorn

The slaughter of sheep by

The shepherd’s and their thorn

Then collide in midair 

The owls against eagles 

Cruelty is not just

The Kind are the regals 

We are bathing in days

We are bathing in days

The sun our bar of soap

Oligarchs slinging mud

Cannot wash us with Hope 

In the yawns of winter

As we turn on our friends

The poor getting poorer

The rich with dividends

Looking for a comma

Looking for a comma

A field in a forest

A brief break in clouds or

A rest after chorus

A stop in skipping stones

No tossing of a coin

No wishing on the stars

A space before rejoin

An ice age is coming

An ice age is coming

Where the snowfall is black

Listen to the bird calls

Going forward goes back

The ice picks are crosses

Give poverty prayer

The peaceful are frozen

The darkness a nightmare

Just sixty-five dollars

Just sixty-five dollars

Versus millions per day

Who needs to feel the pain

Who is better to pay

The person counting change

Or the billionaire boss

Counting accountant heads

And a buffer from loss

A silence unblemished

A silence unblemished 

So difficult to share

Outside of the moment

Painted light and still air

The forgotten stresses

Many hearts in one pace

Before the burst of noise

And the breaking of grace

Shouting from a loud heart

Shouting from a loud heart

Where do we go from here

By protecting ourselves

Very little gets near

How can we move forward 

Transparency that’s clear

Adapting and changing

Life far greater than fear

Even beauty succumbs

Even beauty succumbs

This slow arc of the sun

With clean brushes painting 

Graphite shadows begun

Unable to settle

It sets in remember 

Between each New Year and

The end of December 

Raised inside of silos

Raised inside of silos 

Ten fingers on your hand

Stretched out on lion paws

Parceled with understand

Quarter after quarter

Change in gumball machines

Necessary empty

To defeat the regimes

There’s a space between us

There’s a space between us

A river and ferry

We could build a bridge but

It may not rain merry

Down by water waiting

All the boats rise and fall

Together in effort

Inside this strong flood wall

The waste of wishful dreams

The waste of wishful dreams

Do not show splintered wood

There is no broken glass

Just could have, should have, would

Naive to believe and

Heartbroken from nothing

Materialized and

Thoughts vanished from crushing

I hope I am able

I hope I am able

To confide everything

The honesty of Anne

The frankness it can bring

Have a delightful smile 

Retain the sense of lamb

And be in the moment 

There in the window jamb

Inescapable truth

Inescapable truth

Is not hard to swallow 

Not vague math equations 

Less than’s left to wallow

Emotions are wanting

Here at the lost and found

My unmatched blue mitten

Without its mate around

Rain instead of snow falls

Rain instead of snow falls

The city reflecting 

Streetlights and headlights are

Flashing intersecting 

The past seeping up in

Puddles and blurring streaks

It is too late for me 

Or birds to wet their beaks

Here is what I have found

Here is what I have found

I know it isn’t much

Look at what you found and

All others, such and such

Let’s gather together

There’s still time in the day

To forage the forest

We can make our own way

My bulb is burrowing

My bulb is burrowing 

Self-propelling a home

Gravity is grounding

Stems are stretching for dome

Nature and internal 

Fingers finding a root

The reward for knowing

Are strong flowers and shoot 

There is a calmness here

There is a calmness here

Shattered by broken twigs

Commencing again when

Smalls are silenced by bigs

Movements as slow as moon

As private dreams profess

Standing on my mistakes

I can view my success 

Happiness always sleeps

Happiness always sleeps

In dreams not wanting wakes

We carry its slumber

Through blue skies to earthquakes 

It never asks or boasts

It is root and not leaf

It can’t be given but

Be vigilant of thief  

This does not catch your eye

This does not catch your eye

Like Rothko or Vermeer 

It is not Beethoven

Music to bend your ear

Nor is it movement like

Isadora and her dance

It’s closer to nature

Mere passing at a glance

In the cold and the crisp

In the cold and the crisp

Sunlight with mighty rays

Overexposed landscapes

Flashing like childhood days

Left to rummage through thoughts

For forgotten treasure

Only to discover

They no longer measure

The Overwhelm swelling

The Overwhelm swelling

My head between my legs

The dirty days of old

Germany and its dregs

Grifting and speaking of

Countries good for looting 

One promise likely kept

Fifth Avenue shooting 

Smaller steps but still bound

Smaller steps but still bound

Knowing very little

But able to manage

Better not so brittle

Is it just survival

Bread crumbs left out of need

Or have sparrows swooped in

And eaten them like seed

Cruelty without some

Cruelty without some

Comeuppance to correct

The bros are smirk smiling

Kindness being neglect 

Welcome signs with daisies

Smiles so easy and sweet

Until this topic flares

And they start to browbeat

With Joni’s Sweet Bird strums

With Joni’s Sweet Bird strums

Light reflecting on leaves

The World in such chaos

Hearts are dropping off sleeves 

In this glimmer of peace

Beauty beckons me back

The lights in the darkness

Are sought after not black

In the twilight flickers

In the twilight flickers

Your fleeting beauty flees

Lilac clouds going gray

Silver to black the trees

Please old friend do not go

My love is not resting

Setting generation

All of us past cresting

Born a rock in a glass

Born a rock in a glass

Where everyone can see

No matter how we’re turned

There’s no conformity 

It’s a truth in nature

Not ideology 

Real as mathematics 

As strange as judging three

No where near an ocean

No where near an ocean

This land locked pirate casts

Sights over cornfield waves

Telephone poles for masts

No home port or country

Is this even my time

Less the modern word, more

Ancient Mariner’s Rime

Tripping over shadows

Tripping over shadows

The baggage we have packed

Regret for words spoken

Or prejudice we backed

The best sunset will be

The first I cannot see

Our lives are one paper

Our own origami

The unexpected love

The unexpected love

A flash flood of feeling

The open and closing

The giving and stealing

To know I will carry

This mutual embrace

From moment to moment

Here to there, place to place

Anger no matter what

Anger no matter what

Choosing burning fuel

Listening then raging

In Christ, granting cruel

Dismount reality

To mount a unicorn

Lancing and judgmental 

With superior scorn

After turning all stones

After turning all stones

No wiser from exert

The cleansing of the hands

The removal of dirt

Off to other landscapes

Not conundrum quarry

Perhaps planting seed rows

And grow my own story

The clouds barely stirring

The clouds barely stirring

Fast cars running red lights

Flashes of fascism

And oligarchs with mights

Are in intersections

Ignoring traffic rules

No crossing guards or cops

No elephants or mules