There is life on the edge
of lost and found
I know because I live there
if I fall off the edge of lost
will I land in found
I hope so
that’s my plan
The edge of lost and found
The Cursor and the Like
The Cursor hovers uncertain
over the Like
touch me said the Like
what are you waiting for
there are so many he’s thinking
if I like them all
will my likes mean anything
if I click on you he says to his Like
will that mean you are my favourite
what about the others
oh touch me touch me
the Like pleads
but the Cursor hovers uncertain
what does it mean
should there be a Love button
Note: This nearly came out as a comment reading poems on my blog Reader a couple nights ago. It was getting too long so I wrote this – touch of humour? I try to add a comment to a Like because I know I much prefer receiving comments.
Rain in my western region
Reading from the I Ching
told me there was no rain
for my western region
I knew that but it didn’t say
I had lost the western region altogether
and the east had fled to the south
while the north was squeezing
the crown of my head
night and day
and the moon was out
looking for its sun
The eyes of your dream
Can you measure the walls
of your box
with the length of your imagination
can you compare the depth
of your ocean
to the eyes of your dream
the touch of your beginning
to the colour of your end
the crush of hows and whys
to the arms around your box
you are the answer to your question
you are the distance to yourself
Gone totally gone
How can you compare
the absence to the presence
of that mysterious
but unreliable light
that flickers on occasion
in certain dark and restless nights
with or without choosing
with or without pain
or the promise of joy
if only your faltering hand
could reach the irresistible flame
that came and then was gone
totally gone
Places my bike has been
The dream again
The sounds and images
and thoughts
of another place and time
churn round and round
in the restless cage of my mind
I go there and come back
go there and come back
let me be here now
breathe
let me be here now
the dream again
The garden of your life
When you planted the new
in the garden of your life
where did you find
the seed of your beginning
did it come in a dream
did it show you the colours
the scent and the hope
of your creation
did you feel the gentle touch
of your garden
returning the love in your hands
Shadows and names
If I spoke in the language
of the people of shadows
and names
the silence would grow
into the voice of the ocean
mountains and sky
eagles soar high
with their eyes on the ground
the wind gives no warning
in the empty mirror
I see a single flame
with no shadow
Swift crow world
Walking in the forest
I have considered the language
of crows
they have so much to say
is there a course offered
in the very early morning
who could teach it
do they talk about us
a comment perhaps
observed in a corner
of swift crow world
