poem/4

cannot hold, cannot bold "control"
letters to word forms and falls
cannot depend, cannot rely
life, as it will
rip and roll like tide
make me want to
day dream hide inside of bed covers
face the day, face the day
is all i'll say until it is night and alright
enough stuff, the day was tough
breathe and ease into excuses
tomorrow
tomorrow and really
i have nothing to be scruffing about
no huffing and puffing, no shout
working in and out of every hour
mind soaked, drenched in showers of thought
ramblin and scramblin
umbrellas prevent the inevitable for a minute

cant help but think it:
threads Rilke knit

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.

...


just smiling through it.

poema/3

grace in small things
biking as transportation
smiling
"i'm thinking about you"
"how are you"
letters written, stamped, mailed
social activists, humble and strong, propelled by hope, love, people and coffee
clothes closeted and drawered... a clean room
nag champa lull
open windows, fresh breeze
new words, language creation, discourse expansion
inclusion, safety, affirmation
kisses
phone calls with good news
dinner invitations
"it is good to see you"
catching up with parents
learning that falling is okay
breathing, breathing deeply
doing wash
knowing, practicing: the sink is a dish
wash the dishes when you wash the dishes
seeing the moon through the bedroom window
poets, prophets, pariahs
ritual and change

fingers grasp on the handle as my arm
runs circular motions of physical purpose
winding same track same pattern of speed
gravity requires push and release
you will be pulled in the process
and let go for the rest

patience is knowledge soled with humility
durable and barefoot walking for miles
in search of those who do not yet feel
transience
for they do not see the sun every morning
day ebb night flow day
day ebb night flow day

gravity requires push and release
trees
water will be pulled up in the process
and let go through leaves, rains
pains of natural cycles

patience is knowledge soled with humility
sitting back to a tree trunk
drunk on your own breath
following your bliss
homage to the core life source your

fingers grasp the handle as your arm
runs circular motions of physical purpose
ritual is more than repetition
belief is more than tradition
faith is more than religion

body in motion a tree in the ocean
grows in its own way

poema/1

hope
springs people out of the woodwork
bobbing like birds beaks
in dirt for food to sustain the mood

hope
floats like sun through fog
cannot snatch grab it with
even the holiest hands
palms kissing
God what is missing
thoughts thanksgivings
at last
spring and gray is cause for gratitude
under sunrays
eyes sparkle the whole day in new light

hope
walks in the wrinkles of time
tis sweet to not see its footsteps
but to know it is within you as you go