A trunk full of anchors

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Photo by Dan Fraser

 

I have carried a trunk full of anchors

around in my head

when I cast them out one by one

they slip away and I’m gone

they had such strong hooks

and were so heavy

I am lighter and lighter as I go

what will keep me

from the million skies of now

am I a flame at the heart of being

or a flicker

at the disappearing edge

Doctor Poet

Photo by Dan Fraser

Not many of life’s problems

can be solved by words

but what else can a poet offer

applying heat or cold

in the right amounts

and circumstances

would be my next suggestion

I prefer heat

ok so what is your problem

for a limited time

I am offering hot poetry

unfortunately if you are reading this

it is almost certainly too late

I recommend you take two poems

and call me in the night

What’s the connection

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Photo by Dan Fraser

What’s the connection

between all those people

who have been wearing my name

and whose face looks like mine

there are a thousand stories

I have called my own

surf in maui milford sound new zealand

laughter in plaza chincha alta peru

chuckanut mountain fifty kilometers

in under six hours under six hours

black belt in shotokan karate

countless lifetimes two wives three children

and so many hospitals

oceans of joy in puerto vallarta

brother mother father child grandfather

husband lover and friend

who is it that keeps waking me

at three o’clock in the morning

who asks all these questions

who is that in the mirror

who keeps writing all these poems

I can answer all the questions

but what do they mean

you can’t keep wearing old clothes

you have to throw them out

In a moment

Photo by Dan Fraser

My heart can build

a mountain around my love

in a moment

my heart can drop

the entire mountain on you

in a moment

watch out

*This little poem appeared out of nowhere at four o’clock this morning. I haven’t decided if I like it or if it would be scary if someone suddenly dropped a mountain of love on them

Silence achievement or gift

Photo by Dan Fraser

Silence can be an achievement

or a gift

silence can haunt the empty halls

of tangled time

silence can lay

on the shoulders of your ears

and ring the reminder bells

you promised you would hear

bring silence with you

on the journey to yourself

Struggling to morning

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Photo by Dan Fraser

I struggled a long time
climbing the rusty surface of the moon
before I realized I was too small
for the face of that old shovel
now I live in a giant mausoleum
amid crowds of sleeping strangers
they drink excellent Indian tea
and smile encouragingly as they assess
my knowledge of mythology
but when I tower over multilegged
snarling tigers of desire
I am a god with no mercy
until I lay down quietly with the lambs
why do I swim in this sweet slippery pool
of all the things that never were
is there an end to this wrinkled world of trembling eyesight
and the crazy colourful costumes
of the curious clowns
perhaps it will be in the morning of the nodding voice