Long Unintended Poems

An old Greek word, ecclesia,
is often translated as church,
but could also be thought of as a civilization
acting civilly,
as a citizenry
acting as responsible citizens.

The noun side of Ecclesia
casts residents as consumers
of democratic and economic cooperative systems,
while...

Read More

THE INNER CHAMBER

Please.  Stop holding back on me.

Like a child standing at the neighborhood ice cream truck, arm outstretched, eyes huge, mouth watering.

I stand here longing to slip underneath your decades of cold-rolled steel...

Read More

Twice the night had fallen upon a sleepless slumber,
Yet again awoken by winter when the third was three in number.

I sense that a silence doth sneak ‘tween cracks of weathered wood,
Conniving with that which shadows...

Read More

Pardon any absent adulation, bequeathed capitulation, devoted dedication, indiscretion, blabbering peroration, improper salutation or any unintended vexation if this unknown earthling sent a nearly identical message. He over-looked a small number of errors and hoped...

Read More

I have heard almost nothing about New Year Resolutions
this pandemic year;

Although personal sound waves are filled
replete with incomplete invitations
to take better health care
of personal
and social
and economic
and democratic
and public
and green climate nonviolent communication
wealth optimization

As we move...

Read More

1.Remembrance

Remembrance of guilt from pages turned brown,
Opened and read inside rooms of my mind.
Written through time with tears sliding down.
I will claim each dung lit cavern I find.
My yesterdays speak of a poignant time.
Holding the...

Read More

competing cousins, interbreeding homo-sapiens
  hominins humming mostly human song
  altruistic generalisers, ever close to dying ways
  opportunistic, never staying long

  self-aware, inquisitive, enlarging brains, empathising
  real representative intelligence
  modelling...

Read More

Crown of Sonnets

Yesterday's poems now pages turned brown
Lay scattered, torn on the floor of my years
Written long ago with words I wrote down
When the ink was used to quell the heart's fears
These words of my...

Read More

Such Wonders Are Breathtaking To Behold

(NOT FOR CONTEST THAT INSPIRED THIS POEM)

The morning dew on red rose does glisten
As early dawning sun beams brightly down
Such beauty, bees decorate that soft gown
As Nature's music plays, creatures...

Read More

Imagine your healthiest body
is a democratic
self/other empowering organism

Ideally,
most nutritionally,
nurtured by an also open,
living,
dynamic win/win preferential,
evolving,
revolving planetary universe,
in many sacred times and places
also known as MotherEarth.

Notice
your democratic bodymind
is an open
holistic
ego/eco-centering
co-invested re-centering,
co-acclimating interior and exterior
bilaterally systemic infrastructure
for...

Read More

I worry we co-invest in big private and public corporate assault
on Earth,
on environmentalism,
on longer-term ecologic.

Really, honey?
That's too bad.
Why not also see long-term assault
as the unintended outcome of short-term neglect
of cooperative care-giving,
healthy nurturing behavior,
Golden Rule economic...

Read More

Standing all alone in the woods;
eyes shut, I feel the lilting light.
Sun dodges needles through the crown,
beams land on my skin softly so.
Brisk breezes quicken and rustle.
Bristlecone pines ever sway slowly,
while pockets of air blush...

Read More

Lies, Lovers and Love 

                              ...

Read More

Across figurative and literal blackened white board...

Where death of democracy writ large,
nevertheless psychological strength predominates
unlike earlier chapters of mein kampf.

Mine hardscrabble existential debacle 
spelled losing game
swept me up in malevolent mindset 
far adrift from harbored...

Read More

 [Poem read at Sekoto’s inhumation ceremony at the Neuilly-sur-Marne-93 Cemetery, near Paris. Channel 4 in London recorded the reading as they did the funeral rites in the presence of his close relatives come from...

Read More

Solitary rituals of mourning the write way, right?

Papa... bless his (your) heart and soul,
impossible mission your second born
sole male heir cingularly communicates,
viz his avocational crafted poem, since
written words, mine metier
write most pained words

with great difficulty,...

Read More

Electorate witnesses wounded beast...
flailing, lurching, and writhing in throes of agony

Trumpets blare acknowledging
crack hunters lucky strike,
i.e. bullseye salvo shot at
innocuous yet brutish
and nasty looking Homo sapien
courtesy elite militia incapacitates,
(yet doth not kill) mortal enemy.

Tis a...

Read More

	
Mama, mama ...
I got a triangular problem
And I need you
to give me the square deal truth
Straight honest for real, lying foolproof — 
it’s a rectangle of a mess
I’m trapezoid in a love box,
never thought it...

Read More

The putrid, malodorous and fowl nauseating smell 
   can still be conjured nearly fifty years later wracked
I never forget ineradicable tangy, sulfurous 
   acrid odor rankled olfaction tract
entire sinus cavity, yet...

Read More

I'm standing here; still; but the world I feel is spinning
For every action there is a reaction so when I lose you're winning
What's my purpose? I'm hurt by this; not knowing the reason I exist
Unsurpassable...

Read More

the inside attempting to outside
each with its own absurd shopping list
we are after all composite beings
clumps and aggregates and glomerations
made up from all the faces we have seen
all the people we have imagined to have...

Read More

Mama, mama ...
I got a triangular problem
And I need you
to give me the square deal truth
Straight honest for real, lying foolproof — 
it’s a rectangle of a mess
I’m trapezoid in a love box,
never thought it...

Read More

for Granny Letchumi (b. fin 19th C. - d. 1978)

Once i was a prince in your highbeamed palm-thatched house
  timber and stone
   of hardened mud and cold green shiny cement
in your village...

Read More

as a cild it hat often been the box that mattered
          
          it gave shelter and comfort...

Read More

A story to remind our soldiers on this Veteran’s Day…may you never feel misbegotten…
for all of you who have fought and fight for our freedom…shall never be forgotten:

He wore a black shirt into the bookstore…and...

Read More