Lessons from The Draft Pad

When the Diva picks you, you're in for a trip,
you're in for a treat. Stay with the dance.
After its over, there will be time enough to reminisce.

The Birds and The Trees

Driving through the country, you see trees reaching for the sun,
but reaching as well for trees on the other side of the road.
The same with the wild vines scaling broken walls.
Everything reaches. There's nothing that doesn't.

Because my gas gauge drops towards empty,
I stop to refill. Everyone is on the journey,
stretch to reach, drive and reach.
Sex is genitalia reaching as do stems and roots.

What home is mine

Desert night is blue and purple veil,
wind or still in folding sands, in heavens' spin.
Desert night is resonance, Atacama and Sahara.

Everything has two faces,
we black and white,
and shades of orange,

and tones of brown,
and towards the Gobi,
people yellow.

This I believe, at some point
the ancestors crossed a desert,
This I believe, earth's core is fire.

Where then the Spirit?
I can not say. What home is mine
is dune and shifts.

Steam rises from the meadow

Thrashers perch on prominent twigs and weather
the sun a blazing or storm in making,
thrashers belt out their avian soul in sing
ancestral mode of worship.

Nature has not taught thrasher
to fear rumbling thunder,
its noise akin to grumble
of Hitler's tanks advancing.

Remembering Mother Russia

What sperm whales eat

Funnel pouring in through gigantic head,
in digestive tract reforming. Somewhere
a unifying theme from pole to pole,
from depths to steady as she blows,

I'm not much of a reader, Captain,
I muse a little.

Substance First

There is more substance in greeting strangers with "good morning"
than wishing known individuals Happy Father's Day on June 19th.

Mixed Bag

All I possess has been God sent
except for that which I gave myself.

Never had a problem not of my own creation
except for those related to my being born,

of which, as far as I know,
I had no say.

Shortest Haul

Between two points, the shortest connect
is usually straight. Experience teaches,
courses do crook. Keep hope alive!
Mistakes can be dodged the second,
the third time around.

What grand adventure
connecting the dots.

Eve Ardin ( 1 and 2)

One

The snake is a garden friend,
no need to dread nor fuss about.
The Creator who made you, fashioned it
and probably earlier than your hairiest prototype.

Two

Allow me to open you like a divine oyster
and submerge myself in your fragrance,
and in one long gulp swallow your pearl.

My Favorite

You are my favorite daughter,
you of long, lean legs of bronze
you whose face morning blushes,
you born with an extra chromosome,
of character obstinate and passionate,
not of acute intelligence like your sisters.

We are similar.

Holiness in Mathematics

You delight in your garden,
but have you lingered in it
after night descends
and intertwines with veins,
and on gloomy leaf lays hands?

There in the underground,
night reclines with grub,
worm and root.
The field mouse scurries,
the owl narrates in hoots.

If you've experienced evening's awakening,
you've drunk of Garden's dark side
as does predator and prey and fire flies galore.
We pray because we sense the fullness.
We pray because we sense the void.

Warning: The one you kiss might be deadly

Share to increase.
Don't give to those who would waste you.
They will suck you dry if you let them.
They are easy to identify.

They twist words to incubate guilt.
They have little to say that edifies.
They believe they are special - God's gift.
Live and let live is not their creed.

Control and mash satisfies their sense of grandeur.

Facing The Inevitable

There will be mourning.
There should be sobbing.

The spouse permanently absent,
there will be time to dabble in physics.

Maybe join the League of Senior Citizens,
see how far you can go in politics.

At the foot of the mountain

Pristine day on fringe of howler,
distant rain blows me kisses.

Sniper

I brave the hours, I work the hours
awaiting the moment to squeeze the kitten.

Stealth lies in breathing shallow
like cats positioned hardly move.

Victim to bullet,
this is my fate.

The Roots of Heaven

Heaven's roots are in us, infants tell
before cunning steals into them,
and with it, naturally, loss of innocence.

Arnold and The Housekeeper

Recognition recognizes the not too alien connect.
Lords of Manor have always ravaged chamber maids.
Or was that the other guy of the International Monetary Fund?

Doberman Winker

Beat them silly till there's little left of them.
Let enough of them survive that we may have dessert.
We are superior. They are inferior.
They are vermin that mustn't be allowed to thrive.

When the bombs began to fall on us,
how terrible... We felt betrayed.

A Space for Us

Somewhere near, somewhere far
no one knows me in those spaces
I who nose me more than anyone.

In The Bowels of Ghiza

If we mummies could speak, we'd curse the embalmers.
They bound us so tight, it's hard to fart.

Such a notable pharaoh was I, to this day, I possess two living rooms;
one in the King's Chamber, the other in time.

On second thought, I do believe we need more mummies,
and consequently, we need more morticians.

The Bodies We Occupy

Ends and beginnings touch.
Dressed metallic the train travels.
lighting does not bother.

Storm's approach stirs weeds between the track.
Ancestry maps the face of us passengers,
we all captives of the moment.

Home and Garden

The cherry tree has done remarkable.
"Gardening is amazing, " says Thornton to his partner.
"It's beautiful," responds Sybil
who generally sweats more than he out there.

They ascend the stairwell
to their darkened, air conditioned bedroom,
to make love for what remains of the Sabbath
this month of June just starting.

Vibrations under Foot

Strolling the beach, knee-high in surf,
won't necessarily save you from drowning.
Unseen may come to snag and drag you to an early demise.

From Chile to New Zealand, Earth is rocked.
The shakes replicate. Old patterns no longer are valid,
not in politics, nor in finances, not in the variables of weather.