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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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Lies, Lovers and Love 

                              ...

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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...

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 [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...

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“as we passed her she did wilt
which caused in us sense of guilt
since our stance perhaps did cause
to put her heart’s joy on pause
 
though we’re gentle, not hostile
we diminished her soul’s smile
since our aura as...

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Paterson, New Jersey December 1, 1957

Amidst the Homo sapien species 
one anonymous baby birthed:
I recount one little known piece of news
which one young married couple did enthuse,
profusely doting on their first progeny.

Amelie Beth Harris
as imagined...

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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,...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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In the crevices of a tired town,
roaches scuttle under moonlit sighs,
their dinky bodies torn by shadows 
that shroud the crumbling edges of life.

A cat lounges, indifferent,
its gaze halfway between hunger and apathy,
as food spills—moldy bread,
booze-slicked...

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