"POETRY"

This is one of those posts like a free jazz, or jam band, or an improv situation, or something else about which I make no apologies. I started this one night many months ago when I couldn't sleep. It is evidence of an inner landscape I feel called to court; I'm calling it Poetry.

DEDICATION

Let my eyes see the love that I am
And Love burn my eyes in its Purity
back to the Beginning
back to the Beginning

---

“Coincidence”

What is New is Newer than you think.
Don’t waste your time imagining what you will find based on anything familiar;
leave go ALL of that.
Continue only with what you need.
And spend your time
making the list
smaller and smaller
until you show up naked
and realize you have gone nowhere.

---

“Gabriel's Horn”

I am making music, not well, and shyly but I am.
I am hearing music more deeply, and differently.
It is the same with all languages:
Be rusty and unpracticed, be unaware of the reaches of your natural skillfulness,
but open your throat,
(your heart, your rivers, your grenades)
and trumpet something out.
There are no mistakes the more truly you know your landscape.

---

“Wanderer”

There is no such place as far away.
She journeys through a rose-cheeked youth onward, with some and without others, always changing her scenery, and
often seduced by a fleeting grasp of Radical and Definite arrival.
But the monochrome moments of stillness are what transports
Her Soul to its Absolute natural habitat: juicy, rooted and alive.

Was it even her journey to take?
And whose is it now?

---

“In Joy Our Springs”

Oh My God!
The soul’s water runs deep here, and pure,
and I am intoxicated, I am on fire with Love.
Juicy, rooted and alive Love
The kind that spills over and through your clothing;
Rolls off and onto others when you’re not holding;
The kind you can taste, hear, feel, sink into,
over and over and over again –
and always get the same first rush.

Outdoor living, indoor living,
it happens at the same time here.
No lack for anything outer, and besides,
people like Evan’s Tent will always find the perfect moment
to invite you in for a mildly neurotic chat
or another something of rare beauty
he’s peddling.

I love you women!
I love you our men!
Here and there and everywhere –
And specifically you, at the intersection of Angela and Harbin Hot Springs:

Thank You.

The Gestalt of you has touched me for always,
and I don’t even know half of your names.

---

“Ben”

Beloved, that is what you are.
My infinite thank you, in plain language, unedited and distracted:

There is no one else here but you as I write!

Target me in the life that is your prayer and show me your love always,
Our reflections do not lie,
and I will always
be looking your way.

---

“Cliff’s Notes”

I am.
I am not.
No, I am.