MY ROOM

the musty air is heavy
smelling of piss from an old cat
warped 45s playing music convolutions
on a DEMOLISHED turn table
a folk blues revival
Dan Hicks And His Hot Licks
Monkey And The Engineer
with Jesse Fuller and the Dead
train wheels screeming without brakes
Janis and Jefferson Airplane flying high


my room a multicoloured cherub of colors
to TRANSFORM the cracks in the wall
with the patterns of Brahms
I fill myself with empty space
separated from the musty air
my eyes are closed in RESOLUTION
seeing beyond the gloom towards beauty
the musty room not important anymore
I hear the music of myself
and paint another poem

variation of a poem of mine.."The Attic"

RIVER

sitting on a rock above the river
a little kid sucking a lollipop
watching the roller coaster
a child looking for a place to play
passing throughout the bars of psychoanalysis
listening to Beethoven without whispers
reading Sandburg in silence
close-mouthed without ruby red lipstick

sitting on a rock above the river
no Joltin Joe to jilt her
or hungry men to stab her life
and others who assured magnificence
to justify another darling pose
where there is nothing to search for
beyond the world of awkwardness
The River of No Return

(this is a draft)

WINTER SOLSTICE

sitting on the bench
with my back to the Rockies
high above the Columbia
I close my eyes with BELIEF
to see the FESTIVAL of Yalda

celebrating the winter solstice
the victory of light over darkness
rebirth of the sun
arrival of winter
becoming free

cultivating nothing
beyond the RUMPLE of trees
eating dried figs and apricots
sipping tea
becoming drunk

celebrating the longest night of year
decorating trees with saffron
when another breath is a victory
and friends sit in silence
reading poetry

this poem for 3Word Wednsday
with our friend Carl..aka Carl Coyote.aka Abdullah Baba Sufi
in mind

RETRIBUTION

the old poet sat in late autumn darkness
in his wheelchair
sitting at some seniors aquatic centre
in wonderment

feeling in close PROXIMITY to dementia
waiting for the mystery of rehab
unable to swim
unable to write

IMMOBILE and restless for the next step
his mind surrounded with thoughts
that lost their language
a place to keep...until finding another use for it

tracking the interiors around it
where the mind is the secret
a transparent collision of memories
swallowed up in the cracks

transfixed with roaring sounds of silence
screaming above the truth of aging
below the pedestrians on the sidewalk
unable to take another shower before the swim

troubled by the aging cross-dressers
masquarading in search of new bodies
who prostitute their souls with charity
without RETRIBUTION

WINDOW FACE

the curtain swings open
I look out
it's blurred out there
most likely ghosts
nothing I want to see
I see rage
the window slams shut

the luminous lift off occurs
it's full of red space
I see nothing
then I see red
the window slowly opens
then quickly closes
I see the blurred reflection

stopping and looking
a non being image appears
listless falling color bomb
standing in front of a canvas
personifying his color red
bleeding
the face of Mark Rothko

STILLNESS

forgetting his confused cycle of life
stuck in quiet introspection
beyond the sea beyond the boat
sinking but not defeated
in an ocean torn with rife

remembering his lost voyage
perplexed by the moment
beyond the sky beyond the shore
stuck but not ruined
on a beach without floatage

listening to poems of the sea
grounded in stillness
beyond silence beyond death
wrecked but not broken
standing with friendly sand flea

CIRCLE

forever walking in a circle
hovering around wall of helplessness
hands clasped
bleached memories
discarded sounds
forgotten souls
lost dinner trays
empty echoes
painful times
wind blown problems
troubled with darkness
with reality

stopping at the mirror inside the circle
hanging above the floor of reality
eyes closed
reflecting the beginning
wondrous fantasy
revealing surprises
morning dew
rising sun
winter snowshoeing
winding pathways
endless light
with magic