Amid the swirl

There amid swirls
of tulle, tafetta,
and color
whirls a girl
ever turning
smiling
deep within
the wide eyes
of the woman
in the mirror
clutching a
tiny dress
to her impossibly
soft
bosom

Everybody/Nobody

Everybody says...
education is key
Nobody says..
the key fits Pandora's box

Find it Bind It

When the walls are
shivering into
thoughts that blur
When hands are
chilled and the mind
races on a zig zag
track
time to take it all
back

When the world
seems bleak
bleeding hope
as oil gushes leak
When each page
and soundbite
blares humanity's lack
time to take it all
back

When it all begins
to swirl and press
and mortality adds
its grin to this collossal
mess

When the dreams of
the past seem childish
innocent play
And words of possibility
disappear in the fray


When blood's very marrow
turns cold and black
Absolutely time to
take it back

Find the fear
and gather it
bind it into
something real

Perhaps a round stone
a cyst you can see
Gather the toxic
smoke of confusion
into something that
can tangible be
Then destroy it
however seems reasonably

If  a stone smash it to dust
If a cyst slide a needle until
disappear from a sonogram
before your eyes it must

Wash the dust, create a
new solution for this toxic waste
Whatever you choose
for the fear you can taste
Find it, bind it, destroy it
in a creation of your own
act with deliberate haste
until the scattered seeds
of despair no longer are sown

If any fear should linger
to tease and to chill
Repeat your own process
again and again and again
at will, until thoughts
cease zig-zagging
and walls unshivered stand still
until thoughts clearly
rest in hands marrow warmed
by freedom from fear
and all is again possible
as a song bird you hear

Hear in crystal waters, blue skies
and the thrilling pure pitch
of hope soaring swelling within
and without, flowing again
on an immortal sensible track
Then will you smile in peace
having taken your self
and all connected to you irrevocably back   

Friday Nights

As the week closes
its wings around
itself either in
joy or relief
a sigh soars
dissolving
in darkness

Ways To... A Collection of 5 Poems of "Ways To"

Ways To Fall In Love Again



Remember the touch
of a hand that grabbed
the crunch of leaves
as you sunk together
hands under coats
in a graveyard with
thin gray stones
of one hundred autumn
lovers leaning
into one another

Remember finding love
making in the brush of a
handed coffee cup
a smile, a glance

Remember sighing
in the middle of the day
and in the dark of night
for no reason except
it felt so good

Remember waking to
the sound of your
own laughter and
having it
shared sparkling
bubbling within
and without in the dark
night leaning
into each other

Remember as you watch
slack sprawled on the couch
sleeping to the tv
waking to a hand that
finds you even in sleep



******************************************************

Ways To Know The Smack Across Your Face Isn't Shooing A Fly

He was tired
he was smoked out
drunk up
wrung out
hurt from his mama
just reaching for
a fly
in the dead of winter
with the cracked
windows letting
in the snow
and nothing
buzzing
except your ears


**********************************************

Ways To Find Your Way Home

Look everywhere high and
look anyplace low
peer under chairs
and in afternoon's glow
Look with eyes open wide
and eyes shut tight
Look with precision and
abandon, with all of your might
Until exhausted eyes tearing
stand still as calm peace
washes your blood
through you and of you
bathed in pure light



*******************************************
Ways To Love Your Mother

If it can't be hearts
and flowers
soft touches and
sweet songs
Let it be a
birth tax


*********************************************
Wai’s Too


He’d come here to learn
After a journey quite
long
Quickly found the class
that made English strong
There Keenah and Juan
and Samantha yes, true
a small band of
linguists hands on desks
as sealed with glue

"Good evening"
said teacher
A smile on his face
looking at cards
keeping with finger
his place

"Where is Keenah? Ah I see
And Juan… Aha and
Samantha and there is Wai too"

"No"...
said Wai shamed but honest was he
"Not for Two... Wai is One"
Only One he be ready


***********************************

You Glow

and there
you sit
as you have
for thousands
of nights
yet suddenly
in the spectre
of your potential
absence
you glow
and grow
beloved
deeply
intensely
again and
forever

When I Started Sharing Poetry

when my heart swelled and
blood pounded and I needed
to take aspirin to quiet
my head and sleep until
I could see him the next
day at school lumbering
in the hall
held back two grades
tall as the teachers
His black hair always
falling across his eyes
black eyes dangerous eyes
that locked on mine
and took my breath
even before he kissed
me with a surprisingly
open mouth and a
moving tongue
there in a hidden hallway
I wanted to say something
mark this time for him
tell him how special he
was how he had changed
the world for me
how good he truly was
no matter what anyone
else said
but this was not the
time for thank you notes
or letters
although I wrote good
letters, the pages
would burn with this
heat and one sentence
would just melt into another
in this new found fire
and so I started writing
poetry
and when he
lumbering, left back,
dangerous to others
read
this poem folded in neat
quarters on loose leaf
paper
when he with large
fumbling fingers unfolded
this, my, poem and
read
one black jeaned leg
raised on a step
as I stood and watched
him finish reading the
words written just for him
watched his eyes close
his head bang back
against that concrete wall
in that quiet hallway in
that instant before
he reached for me and
my eyes closed
and bones liquified
there in that silent hallway
light slanting sideways
he moved the hair
and exposed his eyes
shining,
clear
wide and wet
glistening, wide, wet eyes
and softly, softly
he whispered
in a strange ragged voice
thank you for this
and kissed me hard
and then again
soft and gentle
as falling
rose petals
brushing my cheek
my upper lip
and as I fell
into the black
wet pool of his eyes
he held my face
kissed my forehead
said, Goodbye
and left
sighing,deep, raw, gutteral
filled with something
I did not understand
left me with a touch
of his finger on my nose
turned and
walked away rubbing the
back of his neck
and carefully
oh so carefully sliding
my poem
refolded
into his tight
back black pocket

How I Started Writing Poetry....

I heard Horton Hears A Who
and thought just what could
I do
to become a person as good and as kind
as good and as kind to all person-kind
The rhythyms were lovely
a lyric from the womb rock
and the words, ah the words
they did tickle tumble
and tock
The music and words
tocked like a fine clock
a fine clock marking
time in the world of
Horton and all Who's
all the Who's who were
listening to all the Who News
to all that was and to all
that could be
exploding our mind's bright
colors on pages to see
and somewhere as Horton
heard that teeny tiny Who voice
something inside us began to rejoice
at last it had happened at last it was here
our words and our music clearly printed there
and on that tick-tocking
joyous of journeys for you and for me
the chaos and color
no matter who we might be
became that most natural world of
poetry

So thank you good doctor
Theodore Geisel/Dr Seuss
who opened the door and
let us all loose

And when we got pencils
and papers and pen
it was easy to start
for all that had already
happened
back then
We knew we could do it
we knew it was true
we knew we were poets
because you knew us
and we knew we knew you

Why I Started Writing Poetry

I did not start writing poetry
poetry starting writing me
it started as a child while
I read
Or while in the dark I layed in bed
Or while I watched my father brush in hand
as shape and color rose from canvas bland
Images formed in my head
and side by side words attached or sometimes led
I did not start writing poetry
poetry starting writing me
Its music began to most clearly play
on one bright third grade day
when a teacher straight of back
tall and strict and blue of hair
pointed to the flag out a window there
and said what do y'all see
the flag said one,yes that is true
but what else do y'all see
and to my answer red and white and blue
she said Yes! that is what I wanted to
get through
Snapping in the wind red, white and blue
"picture words" said she
and a small smile within me grew
as I now had a name for the words that
so well and long I knew

Missed Men

There are men
who shower
the world
with
balm
sustaining
all
they touch

There are
men who
spin tales
sparkling
a child's
mind with
wonder

And then....
there are
those men
who build
foundations
of grace
upon
which
can grow
a son
to speak
with his
own voice

These men
are so sorely
missed
so thoroughly remembered