Too Many Straights

 I'm playing games to keep me sane

But still I'm going crazy again

Too many straights

serving up plates

of the same old me vs you stew.

If I dive off a cliff

you'll catch my riff

but then forget very soon.

preoccupations will come

soothing you dumb

innocuous to events of that day

I'll not bother you

I'm just passing through

This world is not my home

I'm still searching

Watching

Nothing left to day, to say

as the starlings line the wires

and chit chat and call with whistles

and clucks. People are stalking

with manic needs that never

will be satisfied. But I cannot

do a thing anymore except watch.

They think I'm demented and 

maybe I am but I know what

to do and what not to do and

to not say anything. Even the 

cold north wind with skin biting

teeth is my welcome guest. As

is the stray dog, the raccoon and 

the crazy man who yells at night.

Growing old

 Lloyds lamp and Dad's knife,

Zena's fur coat and the money

from Janice. Dan's always talking

about Irene. And I still think of

Dusty and Sue. Uncle Greg 

at the farm and Uncle Jim 

drunk in his car. Both my 

grandfathers living in Whitby.

My own fathers tomb with

the trout on the headstone.

Trying so hard for something

so frail and tentative. I am

always wanting to do better.

Zero Gravity

Why do you tie yourself up in knots?
So you can come undone again?
And why not? What is it for?
If not to make you different. 
If not to notice one more chain.
One more fetter to restrain your freedom.
One more reason to be bound to the earth.
Because otherwise you might just float away.

Days of impeccability have come,
like the storm of snow
pushing white blindness.
Days of love,
times of courage,
echoes of comets,
language of stars,
dreams of planets dissolved.

Extravagance cannot be measured
when purpose is born.
And this body, this body,
no longer necessary,
remains for you.
To leave it
I must leave you.
That, I won't do.

Think About It

If you are an eternal being,

death is never real.

You could believe you arrived

because you chose.

If you are an eternal being,

this life is designed,

and all your friends and foes
are your helpers.

If you are an eternal being,

all you need to do

is awaken to yourself,

Arise sleeper.

Awakenings they're called,

when a soul sees

itself for the first time,

first sight, first love.

If you are an eternal being,

a hidden gemstone

resides within, waiting,

 be found,  be seen.

Waking

Wending through paths of time,

wondering all the while,

watching decades come and 

wither, drying corn in 

weathered fields, crisp, fragile,

wasted harvests, but still,

winters drought loves this crop.

Without it, no forage

would provide a yielding,

without it death would gain.

Waking to this wondering,

wondering at this show,

we see coincidence,

waking mercy, mercy

walking, doe and fawn,

when I smile and I say,

"what do I know, nothing."