poetry

Before the execution date,
each night,
lands I have never seen come to visit
this self-contained universe.
The only place for waiting, for submitting,
the place where god decided
it was the moment to shoot itself.
This captivity has become an act of survival,
for an industrious nation of slaves.
Here, the immediate!
The fear behind the hate sounds louder and louder
in each city where cathedrals
are now for sale
on detergent coupons.
A man is lost at sea, I hear,
total strangers marching East

His scrupulous actions
made them shiver
A word of protest
meant a certain death
So they stayed silent,
quivering in fear,
afraid to do
or say something wrong
As long as they obeyed,
did their work
and praised him
there was no need to worry
Once he was an idealist,
propagated equal opportunities
for everyone
without a class system
Something happened in his brain
since he legislated his power
An untamable hunger
to establish control,
to maintain his superiority

If you will be my light
I will worship you as the sun
and orbit around your power
until this universe implodes
If you will be my water
I will drink you deep like wine
and tend your yearly harvest
with these hands that yearn and pine
If you will be my forest
I will rise as the highest oak
and breathe into your sweet lungs
as I shelter you with love
If you will be my fox
I will build a nest of owls
and keep learning from your wisdom
until we’ve touched the perfect truth

Dear Mr. Clemens,
Since you were one of the writers who influenced my decision to write,
I thought that you should know that:
In the 21st century,
What is right is wrong.
What is wrong, yes, you guessed it, is right.
The poor, like Huck are pawns.
They give the elite their might.
Predators can be senators.
Oppressors can get pardons.
Corporate royalty take leisurely walks
within executive branch gardens.
Religion and politics
Are joined, no longer strange in bed.
Deniability is the norm,

Thought solemnity—
bowed heads, hands held,
streams of consciousness,
Blessings counted the day before:
Flowing water;
No rockets’ red glare; No
bombs
bursting
in
air
over
dead bird, cranberry,
pumpkin pie feasts was a prelude
Thought our ship came in,
Redressing ships making us
Sales
Thought it was about
Reparations—or 99%
demands on the way…
Thought it was about
Reparations—or at least—wild-eyed kinfolk
storming Wall Street, body-slamming,

The excavator hit an aquifer and the pit
overnight became a pond, inviting swimmers.
The gravel is sterile with no refuse evident.
The man who minds the place, being shy,
mumbles a caution that no-one claims to hear.
We change within a grove of sleek poplars.
One toe in the water and we feel a distinct tug,
as if the pond were in need of a great big hug.
Perhaps this is a sacred vortex,
a place where many worlds meet;
or maybe it’s a magnetic anomaly.
Floating on the surface we spy an oval mound

…and yet she’s at ‘It’ every day,
pulling weeds and shedding tears.
Homeless, begs outside the entrance
of the main post office.
Only been in town a few months,
God only knows,
where she’s originally from?
Has a slight Northern accent,
and doesn’t look quite so old
when you get up close.
I spoke to her, one sunny day,
a couple of weeks ago,
drinking water from the flower vase tap.
Said her name was ‘Mary’
and that she felt sorry for the Grave
because it was the only one

Would water
find
its place1
wherever
there’s space
between ships
between lips
no roof
holds back
what our souls
seem to lack
thirst
in the soil
drought2
from too much toil
forests may try
but the truly brave
also cry.

I am the North Star—
Hope; Never wavering, organizing,
burning thorough bars, walls, wire—
I am consciousness of all
creatures, crystalline water,
clean, sweet air, black soil
From forgotten reservations
I am non-GMO, organic apples,
pears, lettuce, tomatoes, spinach
Springing from beads of sweat
mixed with midnight oil—
I am not the latest sneakers, phones
from Black Friday Madness,
Celebrity Worship or
Dumbed-down gossip ‘bout ‘stars’
I am coagulated blood

Once love has been found
and the heart has grown full
the world is at peace now
my thoughts are with you
There’s a buzz in the air
a new light in these eyes
you are the apple
the sun in my sky
and I will hold you
while I feed you
all the sweetness born of our shine
and I will bow down
here before you
and kiss your feet up to the crown
through summer days
and autumn nights
here in this moment
for the rest of all time
Once you’re in my life
and the water is calm