It must give God
indigestion
when he tries to grasp
my mind
and still it with his love
but I keep jumping
and twisting and slipping
through his fingers
Fever of you
I am overwhelmed
by the fever of you
I look up and see you
everywhere
in my imagination
your loving smile
presses the buttons
of my being
Difference
What’s the difference
between the left hand
of tomorrow
and a deep breath of next week
or going downhill
out of control in a tunnel
and barefoot in damp sunshine
in a green grass field
the disconnect in bones and muscle
that comes with age
and the top of a reaching up leap
to grab the branch of a friendly tree
you can’t stay there swinging
for long
gravity won’t stop waiting
for you on the ground
Empty space sliced oranges
Sliced oranges empty space
chocolate balls and a way
of speaking to the absence
with no roof
there is no point in walls
nothing to walk away from
unexpected pages
a struggle with words
no way to comfort
empty space orange peels
chocolate wrappers
an unexpected short story
Continents of anger
Continents of anger
drifting in a soup bowl
of emotions
with no handle
and no one to pick up
this dangerous spicy brew
blow as you like
it’s not cooling or giving
nourishment to anyone
Old love
Old love doesn’t wear out
but bodies do
she struggles to breathe
through tubes
who bore my children
while nurses debate
who will wear
the rubber suit and gloves
to tend her needs
doctors consider
sending her home
how can this be
physically distant
but always connected
in the heart
Echoe
I cannot prevent
a sound
when I touch the world
with my hands
the slightest contact
echoes through the universe
like a ripple
in an endless sea
I am that ripple
as I flow toward you
with my hands
The sharp teeth of life
If you look into the fierce eyes
and sharp teeth of life
with love respect
and an amused smile
you may receive only
a smack on the face
instead of squished like a bug
The full of night
The speed of sound
the loud of flight
the bone of skin
the wrong of right
the long of life
the fuel of fright
the waking brings the bird of wing
to rest upon the blue on white
the air of breath
the eye of bright
the sleep of dream
the full of night
Lover of god
If I claimed to be
a lover of god
and offered as proof
that I performed
certain correct practices
at regular intervals
in the privacy of my home
would you be convinced
would you be inspired
daninmaya 