Long Articulates Poems

Left:
Let's start at the beginning
of your ecotherapeutic day.

I'm talking today with Fr. Time,
Earth's only fully self-ordained ecotherapist,
and recently published author of
"Journals of MotherEarth."

We have no corporate sponsorships to report,
although we are for sale
especially if you're...

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Imagine,
said Yin to distraught Yang,
never able to get quite enough of himself,
never enough time to fully become his ego-potentiality

Imagine this day opens a new rhetorical event,
a new day of conversation between Ego
and those you live...

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I don't think it's just me.
I find myself challenged to change LeftBrain cognitive beliefs,
languaged abstractions of personal feelings,
perhaps because it is not possible to change Right Brain's
Elder feelings of co-passionate trust
where dipolar co-arising positive pleasure
is...

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Your compassion reveals
mutual biological interests,
a powerful tool
for focusing fertile thoughts
and pent-up feelings

My passion regenerates
articulates
seeks to accurately label
read and process,
attend to your best nonviolent communications,
nonverbally hummed flirtations
of this
our potentially significant
Otherness.

These compassion communications,
positions,
postures,
poses,
plays,
prances and dances and trances,

Intuited...

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Double binds 
like double negatives,
not not,
who's notnot there?
neither here nor there
yet both here and there, potentially
where past and future
meet here and now.

Time's double-binding law and order
of identity
wears two faces,
one composed of past incarnate win/lose spaces,
the...

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CAUGHT IN THE REIGN

“am i a real princess?” she articulates.
the painting, on her canvas nails, pains her.
firm fountain of toenails are just fine.
shrugs, “who knows why!?”
her lashes, feel the flecks, of mascara.
her skin itches at...

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I am not a politician
I have very little interest for politics 
Reminiscing on Diddy’s vote or die campaign
Rallying behind Senator John Kerry Wishing I were old enough to vote
My how things have changed
Obama’s groundbreaking history...

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In the expanse of the vast blue canvas above,
Where birds tell tales in the silence of flight,
Their wings, artisans of an unseen story,
And the wind, a subtle bard, whispers concealed longing.

Nature, a poet draped in...

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#With_my_mother_in_mind
My heart aches but some distance hunch, clears the odds, thus far I have traveled, the little spark in that very distant, blows soft breeze to my weakling faith, that; your body still shielding that...

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(alternately titled: ah me go march'n home on derange)

I'll play the devil's advocate, yet
prepare a stance with pitchfork
     against misinterpreted faux attempt
     to describe, how whet
d'ya column...

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While rummaging, mining,
and distilling me gray matter,
stoking mentality activates
oft time surprising me,
where unexpected novel

cognizance never abates,
I experienced becoming
linkedin with cosmic fates,
sans collective unconscious
soul of the universe,
and chanced to espy,

(albeit only a trimmed speck),
the spirit of...

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Dr. George Gey from Johns Hopkins Hospital
Was looking for cells that would be reproducible
Of their own accord for the benefit of medicine
And lo and behold one day found the perfect specimen
And how he acquired it...

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Whenever we get together as confreres in the religious order,
there’s so much to deal with burning issues and other concerns,
paucity of personnel links to inability of acquiring  new missions;
indeed, a great need that our...

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Proving a point! An exaggerated ending
I see - I am drawing conclusions
An overstatement! Influential indeed
An extravagant means of spreading viewpoint
Ah! I write - I use it to exclaim
I end my proven thoughts with ability
Drawing attention...

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(The rehab of a supervisor)

My eyes!  Saturated
with industrial crap, eventually
to intoxicate what’s left of one’s
bewildered brain.
My sight!  Shackled to the
delusion of corporate inconsistencies,
when leading one’s head through each
enigmatic juncture.
My ears!  Burn with...

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What we affirm now, has been said before
but know dear soul, the word is not the thing
and so shifting from thinking to feeling,
being a melding of head with the heart,
in staid silence, negating all knowing,
ego...

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I have had too many spirits that have pushed me beyond & beyond seeking a brighter sunrise,
But here predominantly articulates my 26th mirror with my 26th esprit,
Besides a band of 25 mirrors and veinticinco espíritu...

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In the universe of the two rooms, she gathers her dreams between her palms,
She lets her fired hair descend upon the folds of our fleeting time.
"It's the end," she articulates with a voice sipping from...

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Here on the cusp of all things, is where I succumb 
Ceding my stuff blindly, toward oblivion and none 
Unwilling to persevere, without a modicum of fun 
Listing in perpetual stasis, til the spasm’s undone...

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It’s in Los Angeles, California
where I spent some days 
to be with a few friends and confreres;
they welcomed and invited me for dinner
a great experience, well appreciated!

With the continuing summer heatwave,
it limited the option to...

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This old oak-tree smiling through my balcony
Sways and swings cheerily, a happy emissary,
Budding new vigor upon tiny greenish leaves
Adorning exuberance of idyllic new morning, 
Quivering golden-beams on dawning of spring.

When the sun rises, blushing mauve...

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The destined call in the inevitable word ‘come’
implanted in the inner ear precisely at a time
when the eyes open to the lighthouse light,
journey begins with waves behind the sight.

The noise mounts on a pitch very...

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"What is life but a succession of preludes to unwritten words . . . "
Quote by_Constance La France


The creative urge of our vibrant soul
articulates poetry when it heeds
pulse of divine consciousness we extol.

Navigating life to...

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Chris prompts his friend, Cyra
to help him win the
heart of his true love,
Roxy

Chris is easy on the eyes
a dreamy kinda guy
but as far as conversation goes
he’s got no game

Cyra articulates like no other,
a maven of...

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Inspired by Two Chained Monkeys painted in oil on oak board by Pieter Bruegel the Elder in 1562.

Viewing the painting will make sense of the poem

Delirious are we both
From concentrating on the now
The when of...

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