Short Humus Poems

Look at bulls
in blue suits
well fed, swollen
from the humus
of peasant labor
Good soup
they would be
if offered
for cocktails...

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Unmarried clays they are
dreaming to pair with humus
to fertilize fragile red soils
destined to become poor dust
for the joy of fauna and flora
to enhance earth’s burdens...

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In-pine-sweet air
In humus soil
Is where I rest, away from care,
And trail weary toil.

One morning feathers filled the air,
With wooden shafts that sped
And left this traveler to lie
With poisoned arrowhead....

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In-pine-sweet air
In humus soil
Is where I rest, away from care,
And trail weary toil.

One morning feathers filled the air,
With wooden shafts that sped
And left this traveler to lie
With poisoned arrowhead....

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In-pine-sweet air
In humus soil
Is where I rest, away from care,
And trail weary toil.

One morning feathers filled the air,
With wooden shafts that sped
And left this traveler to lie
With poisoned arrowhead....

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Good fruit is born of good tree
Good tree grow from good seed free
Good seed needs good ground to grow
Good ground is clay endowed with humus below
A good fruit is a measure of a good tree
It confesses through its juice
And it is witnessed by the bee...

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I dug out the 
big pieces of 
black soil of 
my choice,
Crumbled them 
in a tank, 
removed the 
humus and 
pebbles;
Then the soil's 
soaked and 
kneaded 'to 
paste I placed
On my wheel 
and moulded 
all 'ese various-
shaped 
vessels!...

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Think much of the soil 
Long live the Annelida 
Dwelling deep, it quietly toils
Health-giving rewards of Magna

Protect the sacred land 
Be grateful for the rain and the golden rays 
By this, man can stand 
May he heed so that he may grow his days...

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If she were poor, she would go to the rough side
and talk to tough strangers with rough haversacks.

Having done that, she would go in their homes,
and taste humus and other strange food.

Having done that, she would twiddle her thumbs
and wonder what next she should do.





8/14/2015...

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Four dead Jesuits,
now confirmed as child
molesters, but when alive
these monsters’ crimes,
were covered in
obfuscation.

And when they passed,
were the Last Rites recited
and are they buried
in sanctified grounds?

May their rest be as
unrestful as their
victims lives and
and the fitful sleep
of their confessors....

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He walks through walls of space and time

He walks through the valley and the shadow of death

I shall make thee in my own image

Release this earth, you dark rich humus

Create thy soul, this breath of life 

Free choice and will to conquer the gates heaven

Avoid thy flight too close to the sun

Then, tell me, who fruit are we...

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