Heaven Is A Prison

Heaven is controlled by God
Yet it is like a communist state
We are all powerless there
It is only for God to subjugate.

The least we can do is sit awe struck
It is a permanent vow
Unto the brightness of the vision
It is better not to learn that now.

So postpone the Almighty’s entrance
Put off the Pearly Gates
This place called heaven is overrated
Don’t die and make that mistake.

For saints go marching inward
Rest assure they never march out
They’re stuck in bliss eternal
To look down upon earth and pout.

If earth means that much to you
Better stay through thick and thin
Heaven’s love is a disguised cloister
And getting out is harder than getting in.

Overlapping Souls

In death a soul moves from its source
And hovers unto its own kind
In the search for a newer living soul
The soul scrambles to life to outshine.

Emerging from an abandoned pod
The soul encircles and unwinds
And forms a wreath with protective poise
Above the newly revered mind.

Thus latched with grace and all anew
Strewn with fortitude close knit
The new mind has two souls to claim
Where all the pieces seem to fit.

Some people have a hundred souls
These souls mount up with time
A vast array of countless entities
Whose goal is an aurorean line.

They eventually become too heavy laden
And become too immense to carry
The sky’s the limit for these flapping souls
Resulting in totality’s propositional marriage.

The souls by human eyes are unseen
When they relocate out in the sky
The vast majority of them quietly dissolve
Into the teardrops of God’s eyes.

When A Loved One Dies

As the heart heals after painful loss
Love’s fanatic settles in
The comfort gained is learning
You withstood the goblin’s bin.

And though old ghosts do cling to
A heart they used to know
It’s hard to tell so sweet and kind
Now it’s really time to go.

To tear apart, impossible
And often plays the song
To speculate most readily
The perfect loves gone wrong.

If certain days commemorate
And others lead to tears
With life’s atoms stuck together
This may go on for years.

This is quite an assumption
To mitigate the mind
‘Tis best to go on loving them
There’s room in hearts refined.

One’s Heart

One’s heart is like a market
In its feelings one invents
Presented are the ways to amuse us
Trying to stock what suits us best.

The heart is always priceless
And what it teaches does the trick
We instill the process infinite
While coincidentally finite sticks.

To understand the heart’s spirit
Allows worship at temple and charms
The heart will stay open for business
And love is its coat of arms.

A Rose

A rose cannot see the world
Around the self that it is part of
Its inner stature gracefully expands
In joyful petals soft as a dove.

The leaves and thorns blindsided
God forgot to place the eyes
And with that visual objection
Fosters an unusual surprise.

In different trend obscurities
The haunted petals out pour
The ghostly wanderings even nightly
The rose depends on more.

The rhapsody of subtle hearing
To the call of sunshine’s glen
The warmth and intuition fills
All growth to nature’s hem.

We Are Trapped By Soul

Souls are bargain places
Where we can barter for God
We cannot always reach him mentally
But our souls are His growing sod/.

The sod has to awaken the seeds
That unfold up to the creator
And that claim He then releases
Unto Mother Nature’s instigator.

So if we are trapped by soul
I cannot think of a better prison
It may be of crescent or full moon side
In the sky it imprints a decision.

Energy Surprises Us

Energy surprises us
As we learn of its constant source
They say anti-matter is the loser
In the war with matter, of course.

And if we listen to our minds
As we take a step up heaven’s ladder
We’ll hear the primordial design
Glad we’re victorious as matter.

A Chat With Space

The mind looks out to the edge of the Milky Way
Never minding what it’s called
“There it is! I’ve found the equinox
An opening heaven installed!”

“Thanks for the little time for me”, mind says
And feels renewed prosperity
See it’s usual for the plain picture simiulation
To insist upon infinity.

Does Doom Define Us?

There it is, the question
No one wants to answer it
Then we invent someone to pray to
A cold and calculating spirit.

Oh, such a dour harbor
Surrounds our every tomorrow
Strike a match to light scented candles
To take our minds off the sorrow.

Again, does doom define us?
Abbreviate, the answer will
All human kind unto obliteration
We’re a view from another Universe’s sill.

Be Cooperative And Quiet

I’m being cooperative and quiet
Aren’t the good times far from plain?
They progress along or wither
If they’re not experienced now and again.

The rocky soil of being human
Is a plant and granite tug
Sometimes what a human being needs
Is in the matter of a hug.

Postage To A Star

I wrote a letter to a star
Its envelope was white
The stamp was Frank Sinatra
And the writing neatly typed.

The lines within the letter
Begged for one more song
But the only reply I noticed
Was starlight coming on strong.

The postage to cross light years
Was more than I could spend
And tattered was my pocket book
A hole that I should mend.

I need to seek a mailbox
To send my note abroad
But for now the church will have to do
This letter’s sent to God.

Precision

Precision and ecstasy are coordinating concepts
The was things were astronomically charged
Something gasped in the firmament of creation
And made every Universe turn out so large.

There was a brief interpretation period
As God gave His instructions then
In that he ordered the stars to take their places
And the gravity held and made dark matter bend.

Then he flung people asunder
Those little ants that were bugging him
To a great picnic on planet Earth
Miles from the Sun, labeled us humans and grinned.

Cantankerous Sky

The angles of the sky is tilted
As I lay on Earth looking up
The knowledge from science says
There are dangers in space atop!

The outermost of the uppermost
Is a roost I pray and wish
That by the grandiose wisdom God applies
Will be picked up by the radar dish.

There are few shortcuts to the victory
No angles to the unaccomplished space
The patterns like holograms
You might bump into a black hole face.

The best thing may be to have done with space
Be contrite, controlled and Earth-bound
Seems we’re starved for this wisdom
But here in paradise we’re found.

The finding of the catapulting sky
Is a loop-over-loop adventure
Dimensions circle back within our souls
Until we arrive back to our sender.

The ancient path to the birth of air
Was dust and molecular walls
That formed the entirety of everything
Are best seen from telescopic halls.

There is a certain kind of science
That co-exists around the Earth
Escorting the agreeable laws of physics
Amidst the lists of quantum births.

The archetype of the original universe
Goes back even so much further
That consciousness was the original existence
Is unscientific foundation to serve her.

The queen, our Earth, is sedentary
Sitting on the arm of our galactic swirl
Raised on gravity, fed by stars
A cystic axis in air set down by Nature’s laws to unfurl.

There is a certain kind of science
Much more widespread than we know
Strewn out by God’s unique wisdom
Who invented the first and foremost scientific after glow.

My Drip Dry Words

My words are wet when spoken
Saliva batches each wordy stock
The time is spelled as grandeur
As poems sail in toward the dock.

Then all the pages empty
Like a low tide surge to sea
Till the time comes to row each line
The restless paragraphs inside of me.

They drift awhile in formation
Like a fleet on a purposeful mission
Then submarine out of sight
Until the salt and brine are in submission.

Ambitious Clock

Here is a moment to pause
To look up at the sky
Some people actually pursue this career
Studying the universe’s unbounded eyes.

There are lurking dangers
We might someday have to navigate
Gamma ray bursts and gaseous planet
Black holes and dwarf star fates.

Here is a chance for residual time
To dream for answers for our relief
Time battles haste and haste battles time
Our ambitious clock is naive.

The Universe Is A Place Setting

Each galaxy is like a place mat
Formed by a unique creator
Arranged around infinity’s table
Time has been a careful manipulator.

Where gravity and leverage
Hold on tight and happily hint
To the drink of night’s dark matter
Accompanied by moons after dinner mint.

Salt and pepper seasoned stars
So mysteriously reside
Dance around a black hole dish
Like a lazy Susan, tries to hide.

The constellations are like table cloths
Prints like archers, bears or horse
The Sun’s station’s like a beam of butter
Always enhancing the main course.

But to culminate the features
Of the entire galactic meal
One needs a fork, knife and spoon
To eat the quandary that we feel.

Personal Universe

Our memories can rearrange themselves
And reappear like precious dreams
As we recall the orderliness of our lives
And our common trivialities.

We also lock our eyes to the cosmos
The sun shines as if to beam
A message to allow us room
As this universe has no seams.

Writing On The Flip Side Of An Old Poem

Another mode of mind
Lives flip side of this
Now a new intruder bursts forth
From the creative land of bliss.

There’s a brand new reason
To shed some light and shout
The old poem can be thrown away
I’ve saved a copy, roger, over and out.

A Bird’s Religion

A bird must sweetly thank the Lord
For his ability to fly
For even with a broken wing
He still gives it a try.

His faith is always returned
By instinct that’s blue sky fair
After all he wouldn’t take off
In a cheating sky, who didn’t care.

Water

The world is three-fourths water
Holy water, seas, rivers and lakes
The liquid existence of our symbolic world
Borderlines unbounded space.

Earth’s bountiful seas and skies
Have a lot in common
We need to respect each one at a time
And God is the universal lawman.

Holy Side

What person can go through life
And not have a holy side?
Someone evil pretending to be so good
Deep down everyone has some inkling of a Godly ride.

After all, we all originated
As dust from a big black hole
We’re doled out a planet to live on
A heart and a permanent soul.

That original scoop of gold
That manifested in an encounter of sky
Is still existing into oblivion
And only stopped by the gears of why.

Progress In A Perception

I’m making progress in my perception of God
I’m making hay as they say
This home run ’round the Bible’s bases
Is a victory and one must pray.

The process is for purpose
And purpose fulfills God’s plan
To read each and every gospel
In this like time to understand.

I had a sign about my reading
And was ok’d by a wink of God
He winked between his other tasks
Like alternating sun and moon exchanging nods.

He also told me in a small voice
So mysterious it made me worry
I’ll leave the course of my perception open
Or my idea of God could be damaged by my hurry.

Being

The penny of your mantra
Lands below the surface line
And shops along expensively
To a landing spot divine.

Then ups and reassigns the path
Where the fountain spout is fed
Upwardly as heaven angles
Waters stirred to riches read.

Designed By The Art of the Heart

Did you ever think our hearts are artists
Super-able to love
Then use the reciprocated love as paint
To perform its constant lub dub?

The picture is tied to the utmost God
Who erases as he sees fit
Only He knows what is good or bad for us
And our work of art is with his grit.

Did you ever watch your heart in action
Waiting to see what type; of art it uses?
It can be a paintbrush or a chisel
Or an intense torch lit by fuses.

A feeling is always attached to the art
Avant-garde, realism, impressionism
And lastly the picture is sponged with breath
Hope is the heart’s frame without regression.

Bees Are Gods

Bees are gods in disguise
Without complaining gorge
Their tiny mouths on honey
And can always make some more

Like our God in the skies
Whether outside or in
May reconstruct the catepillar
Or give the world a spin

Innuendos are understandings
The secretarial bees take note
If shorthand be their scripture
Longhand’s what God really wrote

No matter what bees and God
Put into their honey hives
A dab of royal jelly on loaf of bread
God is what makes the eternal jive.

Lighting the Candlestick of the Soul

Is the soul merely happy
Overriding the human being
Whose latitudinal jurisdiction
Rides above us without our seeing?

Is the role one of contentedness
And how did this role come to be?
Something larger than our eyes
Yet roams attached to all we see.

Is this mute stranger who knows us well
Settled to be our aura eternal?
Or is its assignment limited
For heaven’s judgment or hell’s infernal?

When Water Prompts A Psalm

Water is a holy thing when blessed
It’s like a psalm
Water becomes a demon when floods
Encroach its qualm.

Let’s pretend we’ve never heard the word
Let water go away!
Our lips would turn so very dry!
But fortunately wine can briefly stay!

Duplicate World

What if for one moment
A duplicate world could exist?
Dream as I do for awhile
And the New World you couldn’t resist.

For a moment of privacy we’d not need
And every one would be joyful;
No jealousy or wars allowed
All the dreams would blend in soulful.

The duplicate world would own a calendar
No dates for us would be;
Except one Christmas day eternal
We would recognize the Lord is with Thee.

Satisfied With The Gravel

On the moon, it gives one pause
How many things to think while there
The space suit, the air supply and fuel are minor
Compared to God’s infinite glare

We’ll never call our flag moon trash
Even though its light cannot shake it off
Soon China, India and maybe the U.S. again
With hope may make the moon’s hat doff

The accomplishments of human’s are always great
Gives would find employment to our race
From the gravel on the moon to our awareness
The journey will always connect us face to face.

A Perfect Plan for a Cosmic Rebirth

A bean began the Universe
A new sprouting did occur
Mother Nature’s wrath was born
And traipsed out after her

Then stars quickly coined the phrase
‘To burn for twelve short eternities’
After all, a perfect plan is victorious
In peaceful skies with no obscurities

Cosmic tears watered the ageless bean
Still struggling in the nebular realm
A majestic perch for Mother Nature
And heaven’s encore for a heady helm

Sought by the kingdoms yearning
To be brought to light as all creation
Emphasizing the atomic age
To enter the workshop of elation

Consciousness will be just that in the end
With no rhyme nor reason to occur
Mother Nature’s wrath will be born again
As our free wills traipse out after her.

When the Summit Intensifies

When our life’s summit intensifies
No one dares to look
The brightness of the face of God
So bright, my breath it took

The statistique of figure
This Michelangelo with wings
Who upon approaching flutters
And soon stars around began to blink

The rebound is captivating
Way deep inside your brain
The conjugated titles drift
And privilege is the name

The fullest stay is possible
And we are nearer to reprieve
Our diamond in the rough exclaims,
“Bless the coal of night for giving us relief!”

Major Neglect at Christmas Time

Major neglect have I to God
Major even mum!
There are no words to notify
His message board is glum

Adrift in prolonged day dreams
Verses a Christmas Santa Claus
It happens each and every year
Dreaming back, how Jesus was…

The Visions of the Moon’s Wardrobe

Wardrobe for the moon’s figure
All roundish maidens’ clothes
The man in it rejects quickly
Because his belly laugh reposes

His scarf repleted upon his neck
And taps for tides approval halt
The notes click down to withered seas
Then turn a sea’s wardrobe to salt

Visions of the moon and tides
Moon and tides in tails and hate
The tails flap wildly across the sky
Trying to make the asteroids scat

There was a problem with the wardrobe
This was not a Vaudeville act3
The advent of an old fashioned moon
The plain old naked moon is where its at.

A Whale of a Belief

When a friend said to me,
“I write of relgion too much”,
I decided to write of a whale at sea
It’s a topic I’ve never touched

All these whales are all so slippery
And too immense to tame or tease
Their tales swat the salt water down
Then up lift the tidal breeze

Here for these mighty creatures
Praise is not enough to love their honor
The stalwartly attraction of a whale is turned
To a station with heaven’s sonar

The urgency to protect them
Now save the whales is my outcry
Darn. I almost wrote a poem
But religion crept into my sight.

Confidence

Over confidence bides its time
Until it is not able
To sustain itself anymore!

Under confidence walks in
Quickly and reprimands
And kicks it out the door

Then even kiel a paradoxical bird
Flies through landing on the fine line-
Thankful with us on its back wings touch
Both ends of this ball of twine.

When Hands Give Speeches

When hands give speeches
On sides of pulpits rest,
Then as the entire speech begins
They go up and down with jest.

Announcing their departure
With a waving in the air,
A peace sign and a thumbs up
What other gestures dare compare?

Matching the Universe

If you could match the universe
And I don’t mean light it up
Only inwardly duplicating
Both vital and forever erupt

And as your thoughts continue
So does the universe’s too
Until more and more the Almighty’s chart
Is matched inside of you.

Why Fear Death?

Why do we fear death?
We’ve got another life coming
As soon as we take our last breath.

Why do we fear breath?
We’ve got another life coming
As soon as we get over our last death.

Close Your Eyes

Close your eyes and see that eye!
The third eye in the constant glare
As if it’s got the job to do
To keep you mentally aware.

Way up on its pedestal
With eyelashes batting bright,
Wincing at your not-so-great moments
And smiling when you see the light.

The third eye is a vector and a shaft
And screens your sight for God,
Resuscitates Him when you fail
And perks up the garden where you trod.

Because It’s Raining

Because it’s raining and cold,
Pluvial demands from God.
Because it’s sunny outside,
Scorching temperatures from God’s stature.
Because it’s miserable either way,
Residual particles of intolerance from human nature.

We Cannot Replace the Sun

We cannot replace the sun
Even if our electricity was turned on.
We need its light for our crops and tans
To replace its brilliance, no human can.

They say it might burn out one day.
We would all have to move away
To some planet sourced by a star,
Mock-sun cinder in future afar.

Red Barn

Red barns are full of old storage items
From chicken coops to horse shoes
Pitchforks, hay, and barrels
The places skunks love to loot

We always had a skunk or two
Come around the barn each year
The smell would take over the entire yard
While the apple orchard whispered, “Over here!”

Then we would find black widows
Or a locked in mocking bird
Fluttering at the barn’s window
Every time we spoke a word.

The barn was rough and tumble
A place to scrap our shoes
After a good rain and mud slide
Our soles were first to receive the news.

Dance the Dance

In the attempt to write the indelible poem
All saccharin when compared to sweet?
We float adrift until our minds hood
Is caught on our spirit’s reef

Then the rocky ways are lave-like
Volcanic residue bursting attempts surmount
How many times must I try and fail
More times that I can count.

Soul Beams

You’ve got to out fox your soul beams
Strip them to bare bones
Concentrate on totality
Let your freak flag roam

Ever expand and dodge contraction
Of your concentrated bliss
Much has been written about it
But you can’t deny yourself awareness of this

Be practical and patient
Laugh and be laughed at in addition
Prance around on a white horse
Wrap your soul around hope’s conviction.

A Crane’s Beak

A crane’s beak
Can give a bath
Store a fish
And serve a meal
Balance him in flight
Act as a cockpit
For a seal
A crane’s beak
Can dip the depths
Straight to legions sound
Then land upon
The glistening sea
Like a boat
Turned upside down.

Magnificent Astronomy

Magnificent astronomy
A heavy golden lens
Across the space age groves
Across the gaseous glens

A magnifying eyeball
For such powerful finds
I’ve looked for something all my life
And all I needed was a sign

There was a manger found by a star
A child-god enlisted in glitter
Performing for the magnificent astronomy
That educated all human life’s litter.

Acceptance

Acceptance of the laid back look
Knowing you cannot turn the tides
And you can’t move the mountains
Eternity may not remember your strides

Obscurity is a temporal thing
For someday you’ll have your wings
Then every angel in heaven will know
How loud your inner voice sings.

Consulting With Time

Consulting with the passage of time
As it always yields to me
I dread the day it’s stop sign is held
To try to prevent me from being free

I will probably beg for an extension
My heart would feel very deprived
To try and make it understand
There is more than time’s measure to strive.

Distinction and Destination as One Ages

Through the gray hooks of aging
The temple light wrinkles strong
Our over used smile lines
And appears to further them along

The aging game is ruthless
And no match for the meek
The temple remains the temple
Whether the thinkers thoughts are bleak

Yet fortunes told rich or poor
Behind the mask in eye light
Beyond our looks make hay
While our visions try light.

What’s In a Flag?

A flag is a shock cloth
Of organization gone chaotic
Threads flapping left and right
And sometimes esoteric

The upper most flap on poles
Patent all victories
A semblance of stars or stripes
Through departed history

A symbolic come together
A country’s rod and staff
Seems sometimes without it
Our country would only be half.

Provocative Flight

Some symbols chimed
To pierce the dark
No ear could hear or cry
The sound of one hand clapping always bleeds resistance dry

The barbaric syllables
From space would wince and grimace in reply
The gong that began the cosmos
Still resounds, eye back to eye.

We All Have Headstones

We all have headstones
No that’s not quite true
Never those buried out at sea
Or those whose graves hold only dew

There are those who went so calmly
And watched their dreams unravel
Those who still haunt the night like cowboys
Saying, “Have headstone, will travel.”

Mr. Death Suffers

Mr Death suffers
At the moment he steps on life’s brakes
Not you or I, but death himself
Takes credit for those high stakes

Yes, the stakes are high not mighty
Risk free, you do the math
Until Mr. Life makes contact
And corrects again the path.

A Day in the Life of a Sun’s Ray

Every morning a sun’s ray
Is up to its length in antics
Personality bursting at its seams
Triumphantly illuminating
All of the wisest dreams

To this vast love it reaches
Further until unemployed
As the night shifts
Time cards are punched
Rays curl back, sit tight, decoyed.

Three Time Winner

The biggest three time winners
The soul, the heart, the mind
But as soon as your heart’s in the right place
The head takes off its aura’s shine

Then the soul meanders forward
In a very caring pause
But the biggest three time winner
Is when tighter they form one cause.

A Definition of God

God by definition;
Or at least mine, here it is;
A Lord depends on our spirits
And who knows all the while they’re his.

Book of Time

Why do people disappear with age?
Because God gets bored writing their story
And merely wishes to turn the page.

Emerald Memory

Rubbish-stripped canyon
Lies at peace
Where vast ranges
Of little watered eglantine
Ejaculate out of white sand
With roots too deep for words
History dressed
By a continuous spring
Of an alluvial fan.

Together

Portableface
Sitdownwhere
Iwilltellyou
Iloveshadows
Onlatesummer
Dayslikethese
You’llnever
Knowhowmuch
I’dlike to
Seperatethese
Wordsbutthey’re
Livingina
Communenow.

Church Episode

In church
Sitting next to me
A lady is pressing close to her heart
A hanky
She also has a rosary twisted tightly
Between her fingers
I peel off a piece of lint from my
Jacket
Everything’s here to make me realize
My driving soul.

The Net Weight of the Chess Set

The net weight of the chess set
Surprises grandma
As she plays it every day
Never having known anything else before
Except, of course, her bubblegum fortunes.

Ka

The little yellow Buddha
On the big green road
Sat looking very burly
Like a big happy toad

He spoke with his laughter
And a great big guffaw
He said to me after,
“I’m the yellow Buddha Ka”

I wanted to be friends
With the bright yellow Ka
After all, he was the only Buddha
On the read I ever saw

This slaphappy monument
With the stationary type
He sat awaiting sorrow
So he could lift its cast of hype

Then one day I noticed he was gone
And I wondered what went wrong
Just then from the heavens
I heard the laughter of his song

I said to the sky,
“Well, so that’s where you are!”
The little yellow Buddha laughed
Said, “It’s where he’d been so far”

He told me he was goin’
To a place as big as time
And when he got there he would call me
Via heaven’s tele-line

I said, “It sounds like you’re mergin’
To the oneness of God”
He laughed and said, “In that way
We’d be like two peas in a pod”

I said, “I don’t like peas
And in fact they make me sick
But if it pleased the Buddha
I’d wash them down with Nestle’s Quick”

I’ll forever go a-chumming
With the people here on earth
See, that’s the way he likes it
Scenes like happiness and mirth

The little yellow Buddha
On the big green road
Sat looking very burly
Like a big happy toad

He spoke with his laughter
And a great big guffaw
He said to me after,
“I’m the yellow Buddha, Ka!”

There’s an Ant Trail Across My Floor

There’s an ant trail across my floor
Winding around my typewriter
Streaming through Milton’s poem grove
And pitter-pattering over my little potbelly stove

These ants are a test of tolerance
As they sweep and carouse for sweets
Like a serpent’s tail that swings and sways
Over lamp and table and Keats

Tiring of this visual sport
And mad at their intrusion
I tried to mentally whisk them away
Remindful of the guru illusion

They ain’t no maya, so I pulled out my pliers
And was about to crack the whip
Darn things started doin’ the fox-trot
With their hands upon their hips

Crazy gits! I called it quits!
And harped their favors rare
Get out! Get Out! Go, you blasted ants
And seize the neighbors’ stair

There’s an ant trail across my floor
To put all ant trails to shame
So, congratulating each ant I held out my hand
And all but whacked them lame.

Shock Collars

Are we all wearing shock collars
Tied to our own little crosses
While we wonder who will come to judge?

As the sky never lays claim to day or to night
Should we lay claims to our days or to our nights?
Sometimes we’re shocked by the calling of our lives
Does anyone or anything really judge us?

Are we all wearing shock collars
Tied to our own little crosses
While we wonder who will come to judge?

Funny, the answer may shock us…

Does the Sky Understand Itself?

Delighted with the glue of sea and land
Delighted with the holding of trees’ hands
Delighted with the exhale of moons breath
The sky fears nothing because it knows no death

For it will be conscious forever
It will heave a hefty chest load of the divine
While blistering snowstorms shroud the reply
The sky knows how to escort in the sunshine

Delighted to pose for the picture
Delighted to allow flight in space
You ask if the sky understands itself
Well, I ask you to just look at its face

The smile it upholds goes field to mountain
It pours upon moor and glen
It’s playful with clouds and with lightning
And it reflects all our souls now and then.

Fragments of Infinity

Oh, to be a quark
Beneath a shady tree
A rational non-substance
Still longing for company

A brief acquaintance, dusk
Or a beautiful morning will do
It is all quarksville today
Where energy is true.

The Udder of the Universe

A net for the stars
Is a Milky Way receptacle
Catching all the light
The udder is so impeccable
The sweetness so complete
One taste directs the milk of gold
To pitchers so discrete
Sky-milking sieves are ready
To nourish friend or foe
Their chasms are like a
White light abyss
As the stars sing hi-de-ho
A chalice waits to catch the drink
To suckle the star bulb’s fold
Turns to stardust as you think
And keeps us all from growing old.

Green Socks

The fields are wearing green socks
The hills dance in a yellow pair
The trees wear brown
From dirty ground
Until the sky becomes a Laundromat
With rain all around.

Incense

Incense sticks lit with fire
A simple idea as such
But if one’s allergic to the smoke
It can become too much

A sizzle sound announces
When a match enters an incense bed
Sandalwood, patchouli, pine, or mint
Green sage dresses for the occasion
In its robe with edges red.

A Shoeshine in the Sky

Foot upon a pedestal
Cloud formations once again a theme
Wing tips on men so gated
As heels on women dream
Then comes time to imagine us
Taking off our shoes
Better plug your noses first
Before the shoeshine sky
Leaks out all the news.

A Common Housefly

A common housefly
Bides his time on each new dish
Pie on picnics, a donkey’s snout
And big bins of just-caught fish

The devil may care is his attitude
The bugging his only complaint
He cleanses his palate with the finest wines
Till right into my drinking glass, he faints.

Bulbs of Indigo Orbits

Out of the darkness of the watchful night
Arrive the perpetrators of delight
Sleek encapsulated chariots of aliens
Guided by stars so bright!

They beam forth from a seamless orb
They left their homes in good measure
Tranquility, oh the stillness around!
They hope we notice that treasure.

These aliens overlook our entire scene
When we come close to fighting a war
In prosperity and peace they leave us alone
Their otherworldly praise is hard to ignore.

If these night travelers came in daylight
Would they also be tempted to stay?
After all, our Earth is a beautiful place
But they most often leave without a trace.

Secrets in the Sand

Earth’s sand holds secrets
Of how the firmaments evolved
Backwards time and forwards
Touch infinity’s glove.

The gloves that hold the reigns of war
Doldrums beat them down
The magnetic forces protected us
With austerity all around.

Infinite dimensions trimmed down
Action shifted further out
Many still composed the memories
Of a lethal Earth unfound.

The diamond in the rough replied
Does sainthood fit the mold?
Gods are everywhere under the dome
And killed the eccentricities of old.

Now there is new mortar
That new knowledge renders there
Earthlings often meditate
To keep options open and fair.

This is the modern structure
Combining old and new
We’re left with buildings of the past
Knowledge was structured as we grew.

Gone

When space acreage opens in the mind
There is need to wonder as inflation never lags behind
The expansion of the broader range is the home of normality
Escapes on the brink of bliss and relays a physicality.

The abruptness to get there depends
On the structure of consciousness within
Built by meditation are these layers
That form an ally with all matter akin.

The expansion must go on forever
But the premises have always been there
“Never” is an unheard word
And “the end” is only applicable to air.

Lest the trumpets blow time away
Lest the imagination will allow
To overstep vast areas of space
Where there are no paths to follow.

What Earthly Person

What earthly person
Would want to map atrocities?
Or better still speak out and savor
All his eccentric blasphemies.

These are people come to judge
The goodness in dual action
Sadly though the good in all
These beings are only a mere fraction.

Their dour lives are sinister
And oh do they have plans
To set the marvel of the high spirits
Into the devil’s heavy hands.

In the rapture they would wilt
To the cause they have acclaimed
The evil go to a discarded place
The goody gods so named.

The mirror shatters at the end of time
Eternity starts up again
All the sins are forgiven there
Judgment sets free to make amends.

It’s as though the learned
Are weary in their cause
Original sin is up for grabs
In this eternal clause.

The Gods

The gods are more like us than we imagined
Their faces catch the light of love
They are hooked on goodness
Set by examples from one God above.

Angels are a hierarchy
But they do not entirely rule
There’s one deciphering God who spins
The records on his spool.

They all work together
The messengers and what is lent
When their meaning gets across
It’s like it’s heaven send.

All natural catastrophes
Speak volumes in their nooks
The curious proposals
Are from the prophets who mistook.

They avoid the rapture
To participate in revision
To keep the good and evil in check
And avoid a subdivision.

Nothing comes to really judge
The words where bowing leans
The worship is to our connection
To the skies declared unseen.

That’s where the boundaries are lifted
Yet curtail the vested interest there
The writers will continue forth
To immortalize the concept: life is everywhere.

Explorative Verse

Explorative verse by stern definition
Is not what people think it should be
A subtle definition of clear skies
Would be the sincerest form of flattery.

The old icons of clouds are broken
The reign of rhyme will have its day
True joy exists in the well of the pen
A thunderclap sends doubt on its way.

Postponing and stopping are forbidden
Writers block is not allowed in one’s lap
Or verbosity disclose an obnoxious sentence
Or the writ of a rose will not yield enough sap.

The purpose of writing ranks eternal
It is the supremest judge of the call
One looks inside and goes deeper still
This yen only says something’s left unresolved.

When They Landed

When they landed there was an alluvial fan
Swept over the valley’s eyes
Early orgins of a single mound of craft
Across grounds that hypnotize.

The nearby sea received the ripples
The salt from waves made aware
The guides lived amidst and fled skyward
We never knew that they were there.

The habitants entrenched this area
They were much kinder received than of old
The intervals of dawns they came
Were stabilized and made bold.

The saturation from the flood
As Earth’s surface prepared us well
The ocean waves receded back
And long tidiness prevailed.

Monuments were built over distant lands
The valley was under construction
They built safely on those shores
Avoiding an oceanic destruction.

The moon illuminated nightly
As a silver beam of light would stand
The steering center of alien beings
Who came to dig us out of the sand.

They too crept upon the shores
They upgraded all our inventions
They were curious about our soulfulness
We were curious about their intentions.

So this trade off became sublime
We marveled at their teachings
Though their inscriptions were invisible
They gave way to private teachings.

They said they felt bare without a soul
We could not afford them one!
They tried hard to spread its diameter
But the circumference came undone.

Memorable Sayings

In mastering most sayings
One holds up their hand to be concise
The sayer must be the conveyor
Of a most monumental vice.

The vice is to remain open for more
Free of the entanglements of the writ
Return us if the surveillance
Signed one up to never quit.

In giving out the saying
A fact must precede the fault
In actuality the memorability stays
The poetic outlet to commonality’s vault.

In the smoothness of the saying
One might timidly impale
The worder’s quirky manner
Pondering over roughly sets to sail.

Repose

Repose is a servant to a potent peace
That flourishes in stillness
A state of repose is like a gong
Struck by the mind’s artistic wellness.

The response to repose by others
Is determined by the goal
To steer measurement of the heart
To the comparative size of the free soul.

This peaceful bond is unbounded
Soul, heart and quietude
Elation hums the meadows
Because of a flowering interlude.

To cross the bonds of time
Escape and narrowly start anew
Those who thread this needle
Sew a tapestry to inspire truth.

Scarcely A Century Ago

Scarcely a century ago
When we obviously had no computers
We had wars and fickle goings on
And were worried about recruiters.

The times may lessen the need for war
And chariots may no longer exist here
As technology ponders the very next phase
And the space-age premise up-gears.

But we are proud as a human race
We have really come to admire
The philosophers would be proud too
Civility hasn’t expired!

Regimen Of The Sublime Nature

Nature has a regimen
It folds its mighty hands
Steps two paces back in time
To recall when times were grand.

It might be just a memory
Of a childhood tree to climb
A canyon or a coast line
For human nature to unwind.

Mostly Nature needs a ritual
To tip her hat to you and yours
A timeless little interlude
To keep her frailty pure.

She always needs this summit
To obey the hidden law
Humans take time to remember
And let frozen thinking thaw.

For myself it is a dismissal
Of all of life’s mundane tasks
A moment in nature’s greenest eyes
To keep open when you ask.

Yes, ask and still oblige
Reap the silence once again
Get your senses back on track
Like the poets and their pens.

Roses And Fountains

An eleven story fountain
The kind that heaven lends
A gradual uprising of spouting water
For a baptismal means to ends.

The beauty of the fountain
Celebrates the course to fly
Out of this stream of water
Go our dreams never to die.

The precious lively element
Inside our brains arose
Recalls consistent beauty
And sweet smell from heaven’s pose.

The fountain reminds us also
The freshness is always aware
Some people smell the roses
Even when roses are not there.

DO POETS NEED CROWDED EVIDENCE?

Aside all crowded evidence
Erroneous, askew, amidst
Meandering uncertain
Resides a timely twist.

In full zigzag momentum
In the vacuum of mind space
A pause evicts the uselessness
And serves the written grace.

The kindness, outspoken
The brilliance, like a star
The proximity, world wide
And other worlds afar.

An inadequate addition
Can never satisfy
But the cure of poetry
Is immortality’s open eye!

INSIGHT

Many brief insights
Are allowed to see everyday
Could be in contrast or comparison
Or one may hold a storm at bay.

The one that should be written
Is one watched within the sky
Could be a falling star exposed
Or sorting out a thought that cried.

Could be in a life-long provision
A glass of health from yonder store
No one can buy eternity
It’s made up of so much more.

But the insights can be given
As gifts your heaven placed
That purest region vaguely there
Whose expression marks your face!

A POET’S PURPOSE

Once you know the rhyme scheme
And it’s ingrained within your core
The verse becomes habitual
And fails to open up death’s door.

The tempo is like magic
Satisfaction guaranteed
A soul’s entire operation
Becomes too busy with its beat.

As jaunty as an arrival
The happy note converts
Daring the unexpected
To override with words.

Lovely poets stay intact
And revel in their binge
To conquer mortality
And change the death door hinge.

OLD BOOKS

Old books deliver more than plot
They’ve such a curious smell
To fancy the discerning nose
That picks one up and dwells.

Library books are notorious
For this paper yielding essence
A scent as sweet as perfume
Like a creamery met stale incense.

A PINCH OF SALT

A pinch of salt was written in
The first world’s recipe
Whose ladle lifted the soup
Of the cosmic mystery.

I do not think the nose of God
Knew exactly what was brewing
Or maybe it was made before
He knew what was construing.

All in all, the sales were up
His economics prospered
He sold the whole concoction
To the invention of the crossword.

The puzzle asked, in “two across”
What did creation mean?
God tossed the salt and answered
Over his shoulder heard and seen!

IF I WERE TO BE REMEMBERED

If I were to be remembered
A spirit would enchant
A lovely summer’s evening
Where crickets chirp and rant.
Their echo would free the twilight
I would be calm upon the porch
Remember me by starlight
Lit up by Orion’s scorch.

The night would follow sunset
My fate would be there too
Shifting across darkened skies
Like a broom witch will often do.

If I were to be remembered
Least my revelation be forgot
Think of me in summer time
Eternity shopped and bought.

AT THE FARTHEST CORNER
At the farthest corner of oblivion
I reckon there would be
Nothing as indifferent as the
Difference you could see.

The patent would be worn out
The new times recomposed
The dazzling art, experience
Unknown would be what knows.

The climate would be venturous
The claim of stars of gold
Panning for these nuggets
Our old man God would pose.

There would be no talk of finite
There would be no limit to discuss
There would be so much avant garde
The museums would go bust.

And finally there’d be folly
We’re talking way, way out there
From there to here a bad, bad dream
What do you, truth or dare?

Nature And Innocence
Mother Nature gives us a chance
To flourish and not to wilt
She’s evangelistic in a sense
And is here to relieve our guilt.
What a heavy burden to bare
To go through life without her charm
That flexible resistance within us all
We should never evade her open arms.
Her precipitation is audible
When it hits the ground it pats
To tell us as we observe
She never falsifies her stats.
She is wide awake even at night
Ask the Moon who sees it all
When it’s time for him to depart
She’s got the Sun on call.
We know least we facilitate
A place to store her fame
We cannot see her exactly
But our innards know her name.

Nature Is A Classic
Periodic ecstasies
Flourish in her mind
The paradisiacal proximity
Is divvied out in kind.
Everyone is ready and able
To speak in her giant law
Everyone is recognized
By her giant natural claw.
While her breathing’s an illusion
When we try to see her in the wind
Everyone is ready and able
To mock the pageantry she’s in.
All the moving objects
Her force invisibly lies
All the sedentary gentlefolk
Her velours hypnotize.
Sitting still or moving
Or standing on one’s head
There’s an immediate decision
To know by whom one’s nature’s led.

Wise Owl Of Nature
Nature is a wise old owl
When she is point blank in your face
Makes you understand the meaning
When she subjects you to your fate.
Your fate is often disguised
While you’re busy with other things
Then one day her school bell
Will enlighten with it’s ring!
You may change your lifestyle
You may turn pale and opaque
The nod she’ll give will comfort
You’ll fall asleep within her wake!

Wisdom Of Nature’s Ox
In the wisdom of the ox
Who nature reveres just like the fox.
The ox is bridled to it’s clasp
The cart is toiling to outlast.
The two together make their destiny
The ox and cart are precious entities.
The valuables are delivered there
And off to hay the oxen lays his cares.
The next day her sunlight wakes his mane
He is thankful for his wiser brain
And not to let work make him over drool
He’s learned from Mother Nature not to be fooled!

Delicate Nature
In the expression, delicate nature
Nature soon rebels!
She’s not always delicate nor whimsical
She is not the one to babel.
Her extreme wisdom never diminishes
She’s got plenty where that came from
She is the tree line’s social advocator
She is also the main note of the bee’s hum.
To praise nature for all she does
Would take a lot of paper
Paper takes more of her fabulous trees
So regarding this poem, I will taper.

On The Springboard Of Nature
Nature’s on her springboard
She’s silent as she springs
She flies off to coax the hummingbirds
With that, she cleans his wings.
She’s intuitive to this creature
She knows he must keep moving
Sitting for a lessor time’s allowed
As her zip code is always improving.
Nature has many addresses
She can oversee within her glance
The little hummingbird is happy to jot
From flower to flower’s chance!

Rapture Within The City’s Nature
To find rapture in the city
Imagine the streets are made of her gold
The trees are full of limericks
They recite before the day gets old.
There are natural exclusions
In the city’s nocturnal breeze
There is a concrete heart throb
But sometimes the tree’s wheeze.
As cities go, they are favorable
Some love the smell of bus exhaust
And the distant train that whistles
In the first signs of winter frost.
The magical assignment
In cloud bursts, buildings try to shun
Is just a cord of angels in passing
When the heaven’s guitar strums.
The rapture keeps on beckoning you
As you walk down a side street lane
While a marching band’s on parade
Reflected in a street’s water stain.
The rapture has no limit
It is subsequent to now
Nature’s rapture’s where you find it
And that is, not unless you know how.

The Kneeling Nature
Nature kneels, oh yes she does!
For the rod and staff of the Lord
Our Lord is her Lord, enlightens us
Nature’s old and modern reward.
To meander within her word ways
Are solemn vows to beg
The cities are a blasphemy
To nature’s wandering legs.
She’ll be kneeling in green pastures
She keeps on kneeling as they toil
The rocking and rolling effort
Urges us to soothe our soul.
Imagine her just walking
Her legs upright like a human’s state
The course of the prophet’s echo
Never to breach contract to illuminate.
She communicates in the wind pipes
She charts the drone of om
She imparts a natural wisdom
To everyone and not just some.
That is what a human knows
Same as in the heart of polar bears
She lets every living creature
Know from the get go that she cares.