the silence of the hams

my body is wracked by wants

sex, food, drugs etc

looking for that feel-good

but i dont think i’m listening, really

im interpreting a feeling as a craving

what it really wants is Love, from me

Have i ever truly accepted that i am here

in this body? it tries to remind me

with aches and pangs.  hey im here

it seems to say.  as if imploring my spirit

to come, sit, stay



sundown at 4:25.
burnt pecan pie.
leftover turkey,
no stuffing, no gravy.
snowed all day, didn’t stick .

we are fat and round,
on couch, in down,
hot cocoa and butterscotch schnapps,
sweat pants and fuzzy socks.
waving spirit in pine
branches and christmas lights


for the prompt at dVerse

move remember love surrender

i did not let my body move
i would not let my mind remember
i could not let my heart love
i have not let my spirit surrender

my awkwardness kept me from sports
my chest grew anyway
so i was teased about my breasts
which i tried to hide away

cornered too many times
by my girlfriends to whom i lied
in order to avoid regret
i quickly learned how to forget

She broke the bond built the wall
severed the cord between us all
what else could i do, what else could i know
so my own heartwall did grow

craving all that i denied myself
strenghth in body mind, and love
my will invented stories
i could not believe, nor prove

i did not let my body move
i would not let my mind remember
i could not let my heart love
i have not let my spirit surrender

now in the middle of my lifes summer heat
shut out into the desert i made myself
dried up date and burning meat

she’s sat outside my walls for years
waiting for me to ope my gate
turn the crank and grease the gears

i tell her i’m trying to release
to open, to love, to grow
to learn who i am and find that peace

accept that I am whole, complete
to claim my inner dragon beast
to love the me i finally meet

afraid she’s about to give up
desert her post, abandon me, walk away
spill the wine, smash the cup

i did not let my body move
i would not let my mind remember
i could not let my heart love
i have not let my spirit surrender

now i shed my scales, drop my armor
my bloody sword clatters on the stones
time to pick up my self, my amor
listen to my deepest tones

time to run up the stairs,
from the bottommost chamber
open the cage, lay heart out bare
time to own my title, Sir

i love my body, and so it moves
i love my mind, and all remember
i love my heart, and so grows love
and to God above i surrender



global poetry writing month asks for repetition,

imaginary garden asked for rebirth

global poetry writing month asks for repetition

Spirit animal

Ask what my spirit animal is.
It is only the spirit of an animal.
Some dead coyote perhaps
Or maybe a vantablack pterodactyl
Whatever it is, it’s got a good grip
On the earth.
It is a shade, an apparition
An origami absence of a beast
Folding and unfolding itself across the landscape
An f-117 that streaks across my path
Shooting down my ego self
The night pales in comparison
To its lightless fur, glintless fangs
It is pitch black
Grues are likely to be eaten by it.
Only twice, it caught me
Spellbound, like a train wreck
Or the eyes of that jaguar that
Locked on mine till the thick iron bars between us vanished…
I don’t know if I’ve survived


glopo2018button1day 23

imaginary garden

Spirits in the Jars

Though the lid is off,
the jar can open further,
until, in painful joyous rapture,
the jar is shattered.

somewhere ages hence,
archaeologists pour over shards,
try so hard to put that jar
back together, to contain
what has escaped into the ether.

though they still perform
this essential human act,
they’ve forgotten who they are.
whats in it, is not the jar


In visible form

At first, so enthralled, I could not see
Naught but her form, shape, 
The smallness of her toes, waist, nose
The fullness of her hips 
The curve and sway of her breasts

Now with so much shared
Like rivers passed their confluence
Those delights are more distant now
I delight in her music, the song of her life
From here I can barely see 
the form of her poetry

Here and gone

When he reached the last light
On the last day when the glint
Of sun winked from behind yonder rise
And twilight slips slowly
Into the gloom of night
All the racing human braining
Every thought, reasoning
One by one sapped of meaning
Till all that’s left is bestial raging
Till even that scent of
Tearing things apart
Too is faded away
There is nothing left of him
I recognize, and yet he is here
And gone


How now, Sage?

The thing we forget
Is that we are spirits
In the material world

The material world is often quite clear
Though some of us get lost in that
Devoid of meaning, flush with fear

That wont be washed away
An emptiness unrolled
So Seeker goes to the. Mountain

There he remembers
And finds fillment
In knowing sacred self

Well what then o mystic one?
Will you forsake the world
And remain there grasping for spirit?

Or again choose to enter the world
And move amongst other men?
but what, o sage, can you tell them?

They’ll not hear you,
Nor seen, like you, there is no mountain
Yet, Here again is the mountain

How can you now fit, now that you’ve seen
Your endless expansive spirit
Into your tiny little niggling life?