HOLIDAY

HOLIDAY

celebrating her death every July 17

I write jazz poetry

improvising my words to her burned voice

beside her mournful burnt candle

soulful in her spoon and magic needle

under siege from another lost love

a mystery lady day seeking freedom

from the trees that bear no fruit

and the blood stains on the leaves

from the black bodies hanging from trees

singing her encore Strange Fruit

Billie Holiday

SAFE PLACE

inside a flute listening to the holes
without thinking
without knowledge
watching the quiet voices dance
listening to the silent music
playing tag with the sounds

beside two bears listening to nothing
with courage
with mindfulness
watching the sun set
listening to the silent growls within
playing no games with the mind

outside under the weeping willow
with another journey
with closed eyes
watching nothingness between the blinks
listening to the birds at the feeder
playing games with the seeds

inside myself listening to breath
without reason
without anything
watching the noisy thoughts stop
listening to the quiet monkey
playing no games inside a safe place

EARTH MAN HEAVEN

.........this is a triptych relationship poem..based on Chinese trinity..earth man heaven
using haiku....photo is my painting "SCORCHED EARTH"






earth...................................man................................heaven
our garden destroyed......leaving thumbprints....above water
baptized cracked..............burning..........................waves never reaching

MORNING MEDITATION

sitting listening to the snow
watching my breath
singing sweet jazz
without blues
with courage

DESTINY

staring into the deep abyss
a vacant hole in the middle
of hollow openness
looking at fears secrets
and tears

listening to the messenger-spirit
exempt from apprehension
unhindered between space and time
with no place to escape the light
or the flight

beneath the broken umbrella
of lost dreams of reality
where the spilt paint
stains the art that covers me
haunting my destiny

SNOW LADY

she stands in the snow
above the stones, words and dead flowers
and the sighs of uprooted plants
beneath the space of despairing love
below the rough rocky mountains
discovering herslf in pure solitude
unable to see the horses that have vanished
surrendering to the cold realms of winter
bleeding to death without summer fragrance
unable to shiver in its silence

this is her dwelling this is her place
the mother of stone and metal
where the blowing greeting of the wind
flows from her welded rusty eyes
over the bare weeping willow branches
climbing up the snow covered stairs
towards the temple of the frozen Buddha
and treasure of hidden shepherd poets
polishing her soul for one last poem
from a list of snow covered words

WANTING

I want to keep dancing
without rushing through the steps
swaying with the trumpets
savoring every moment

I want my mind to be focused
on the here and now
dancing with mindfulness
singing with silence

I want to keep chopping wood
to keep the music burning
sipping hot tea
listening to the birds at the feeder

I want to remain an old poet
who still has more words
floating beneath each breath
entertaining the falling stars

I want to accept death
and the journey beyond somewhere
realizing the trip just keeps moving
knowing nothing it's all a mystery

I want to remain naked
without a trace of prejudice
leaving it all behind
wanting nothing