Featured Poems

Barking Up My Tree

Don’t take me seriously, please
Take me with a grain of sandstone
A geologic sediment of inter-galactic sludge
Take my human heart and see the contradictions
Look inside my head and see the trains of thought explode
The flights of hypocrisy that cross in convolution and ignorant
Confusion

Say

Boxes that won’t open with logical keys
Oh please, don’t take me

Seriously

I am of a species that will not adhere to the rules of a literal wit

No

So just sit back and relax and enjoy the show
Admission is free with an open mind.


The Iranian Girl

There’s a hole in the ground
A moving of earth, now made
A sad depression
Where once she played in
Puddle-rain
Splashing with the joy that comes
From child-like feet

The sound is still here
In the air, the breeze yet carrying
The secret laughter
That haunts the waking hours of those
Who’ve lost the way

How vain to think that
Memory can be erased

All will remember
No one escapes

I wonder if she saw it
The moment before
Her hair still flying free
The metal catching that last
Pure glint of sun

Did she hear the explosion
That made no sense
Did she feel
Her body come apart
And fall like dust, too soon

Does anyone ask
Whatever she felt, whatever she dreamed
Her dreaming time is gone
And no lofty word of God or
Glory will ever make it right

Dare to listen and you will
Hear her
Dare to open your eyes and see

The Iranian girl
No different
Like you, like me.


A Prayer for the Dying

Every day admit me
Please
Into the portal of the
Divine
Allow me to feel
The sublime majesty of life
To know
The sanctity of relationship
To touch
The beauty of Earth
Breathe into this poor undeserving frame
An immortal telling
A lasting consequence
Give me the power
To see
To believe
To dream
Forever.


Ode to an Endangered Species

Will you not leave us here too long
We have not paid attention
To squander the best of the world
A pity we do not understand
Ourselves
No more you fly in the wind
No more the buoyant ripples on a pristine pool
The splash of color in a worn-tore land
No more
The survivor’s sad lament
Yet no weeping will there be when
Your perfect, singular form
Vanishes
The muted salting of a wounded Earth
And all that is and all that ever was will
In some way be
Diminished
For the loss, though unnoticed
Will be recognized
In the stillness of eternal night.


Ahead of His Time

The artist born ahead of his time
Will see no reward, no glory, no fame
Alone with his demons
He wrestles to the death.

Van Gogh was
One
They said a madman a lunatic no doubt
Only brother Theo could glimpse
Who he was
And brother love pulled
Spirit through fire
With paint, brushes a kind word and a coin or two
Young Vincent held on
Compelled
To see the dying of the world
Sweating in the fields hot burning sun hour upon hour
Sunflowers explode
Life’s mad beauty
The trees are alive and stars shake the heavens
Awake
Sleeping fools
Put out your eyes and see!
Cut off your ears and hear!

In a tiny room
Alone
Poor, dirty wretch
Light slips through the door
Unnoticed
All that love
Rejected
All that blood poured out
On canvas.

The artist born ahead of his time
Must die ahead of his time too.

Starry, starry wonderful night
Life and death are the stuff of dreams
It is painted ‘cross the sky
Light years ago
A star burned out
Far, far away
And only now
After millions of years
And millions of miles
That dying light
Finally

Reaches our eyes.


New Bottom Line

I’m not a communist, I’m not a socialist, I’m an ethical capitalist.
Is that an oxymoron?
Is it possible to be a salesman or a businessman
With integrity?
Or, to put it more simply
Would anyone buy a used car if you told them the truth?
These are difficult questions.
But shouldn’t someone be asking them?
We’ve raised our children to compete
The dollar is the prize
All is fair in love and—just about everything else.
So is it any wonder the field is littered with losers?

Ethical capitalism.
The profit motive works. No question about that.
The problem is

Greed.

Greed is the knife that stabs deep in the backs of one’s fellows.
Self-interested profit for the few too often
Reaps untold suffering for the many
The community of Humankind is laid low in shame
The harmonic balance of the Earth is
Disrupted.

Where are the visionaries to lead the world?

Powerful and influential men and women who see a
Future inclusive of all
Those who understand
A dollar lost here and a dollar lost there
Is a victory not a defeat
When brothers and sisters and children yet unborn
Remember with gratitude
The painful sacrifice
And honor the difficult

Choice.

Ethical capitalism?
Is it possible?
Of course it is.
Life is evolving.
New generations recognize
Money is just a plaything
The new bottom-line is

Humanity itself.
LIO