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Belly Up….Don’t Give in to Soul Mirage
don't flinch..... We belly up to our own fears…… From Parabola…. a special place to pause & renew (too special to call it a magazine)… A man meets his life most poignantly in moments of painful...
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the poets string stars- dazzling in ancient dust
ancient texture…. The Continuous Life What of the neighborhood homes awash In a silver light, of children hunched in the bushes, Watching the grown-ups for signs of surrender, Signs that the irregular...
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the primordial creative code of offering our gifts
Creative work is a bold attempt to be like God. You can expect it to take you to the edge of human possibility, where the landscape is as dark as the night sky. You can’t know where you are going or...
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an ocean of calm abiding
perfecting calm Poetry is pure white. It emerges from water covered with drops, is wrinkled, all in a heap. It has to be spread out, the skin of this planet, has to be ironed out, the whiteness from...
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offering our pain as little, secret heart nuggets
the surreal & the mundane I have seen the light break through to illuminate a small field for a while and gone my way and forgotten it. But that was the pearl of great prize, the one field that had...
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the haunting echo of angels wings
Who, if I cried out, would hear me In the orders of angels? If an angel heard And in a sudden movement I were taken to his heart, Into the presence of his greater Being, Would I not be consumed? For...
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beyond the origins of prayer…the underbelly of poetics
I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world. I may not complete this last one but I give myself to it. I circle around God, around the primordial tower. I’ve been circling for...
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to be within a poem…
Good poems bring the grant of malleability. They make the world, and the self, workable, when it might seem to have stiffened past change. They hold the omnipresence of interconnection without...
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a finer moment
Let us know peace. For as long as the moon shall rise, For as long as the rivers shall flow, For as long as the sun shall shine, For as long as the grass shall grow, Let us know peace. ~Cheyenne...
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as dense as a surprise ending
Poets live with silence: the silence before the poem; the silence whence the poem comes; the silence in between the words, as you drink the words, watch them glide through your mind, feel them slide...
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