Cloud Cuckoo Land

Up in cloud cuckoo land
days beyond neat rows and old news

the world does its slow bop
through the blue and white
ribbon-bowl of perfection

Silence is queen
in her cerulean realm
and for all I know
everybody went back to their home planets
or drowned desperately
trying to catch sight of their mermaids

but not me–
I brought all my stars and mermaids
up with me

keek-aboot peekaboo
stars stuttering hella huge
got me dancing hallelujah
ready or not here I come

taste all these clouds
this lupine quartz-lily sand sage
these sparkling dragonfly flanks
marinated in a breeze
from the spine of the sea mage

grasshoppers are clicking up a symphony
which reminds me
I too can kick up a dust storm
when I want to
but I’m pleased to say
that the ol’ sun and I
are taking it easy

I’ll close my eyes when he does
then I’ll become Guardian Moonman
watching over the Queen’s Silence

up here in cloud cuckoo land
everything is spun grandiferous

Mad Season

C70FB9B9-EA97-41AF-9557-2EA743BFB97C‘Til ya get that river in ya, man
Get that river in ya
‘Til ya get it in ya, man
Ain’t coming back to you

Gonna up and start
Gonna strum my heart
Gonna mad the season
Overrule the reason

Gonna ride the river
Gonna give the giver
Gonna ride the beaver
get the fever
weave the weaver
pull the lever

Gonna swim the wind
Dance my friend
Blend my blend
Gonna river bend

‘Til ya get that river in ya, man
Get that river in ya
‘Til ya get it in ya, man
Ain’t coming back to you

Gonna skin my soul
drop and roll
Gonna gather stones
float my bones

Gonna surf the sky
tell no lies
make my law
Gonna go for raw

Gonna stretch my ears
bend my fears
mend my tears
Sharpen spears

Gonna shake it out
coyote shout
scratch my itch
raise my pitch

Gonna hear the tune
swerve and swoon
Gonna be the fool

Gonna
break
the
rules

‘Til ya get that river in ya, man
Get that river in ya
‘Til ya get it in ya, man
Ain’t coming back to you

Gonna face the fate
This gateless gait
Gonna seamless stream
Dream this dream

Gonna eat the east
go for beast
best the West
feast and fest

Gonna live the myth
Gonna hit and miss
Gonna make a mess
Gonna Big Caress

Gonna believe the wind

‘Til ya get that river in ya, man
Get that river in ya
‘Til ya get it in ya, man
Ain’t coming back to you

They’re on Their Way

314D1CA4-B0EB-497E-BA98-A3256EF18D64Don’t puzzle over the meaning

When did the river ever stop
to ask the rock
Of what it’s made?

A caress will do
and it’s on its way

Don’t puzzle over the meaning.

A poem. A river.
The foam. The world.
A woman. A girl.
A man unfurled.
Who knows how to play.
Who knows how to play?
They’re on their way.

To where we’re all headed.

It’s the what
not the why.
Don’t ask me why.

The big-picture-map-
on-the-box-cover-trap
Been there, done that
Better make sure
it’s the right box/map/trap
or make your own.

They say you are
what you puzzle over
So might as well be
a puzzle dove hovering
over the treasure trove
in your pleasure grove.

Take your great outrageous scimitar
and cut your head off
so you can stand
inside both your
stone and rivers.

Either way, abundance is unavoidable.

When Summer Dives Like Fools For Gold

762FDA58-705A-49DA-94E8-959BCA9DA557In heat as thick as brambles be
I say goodbye in deep July

When summer dives like fools for gold
with face in water crisp and cold
I say goodbye, and say it bold

Even as I’m saying hi
to sun so high, I say goodbye

Letting go while taking in
a way to stay awake again

With berries ripe as fat dog days
I say farewell, as they swell

with arms around the seering sun
and a tang on the tip of tongue
and the summer is yet young

I say so long, so long I say
Deep down in a summer day

The Secret Mandala

18759280-81DE-40B6-BD00-2E2F3CC91915Like a scholar
I study the hieroglyphs etched
on the mandala between your thighs
the source of your magnetic fire

If only I could translate it—
how refined the marks
how like the First Spark

Form the primordial word
on the lips of your perfect poem
and draw me into your sacred circle

And with my Rosetta Stone
I’ll decode the secret song
in the deep of your ancient art
pink with the wet wink of creation

The Theology of Laughter at the End of the Day

7ED966B3-14DB-4197-91FB-29EDCB2EC255Pay attention to the kernel
of your ache

the one coiled up inside
all the others
like a rattlesnake
hidden in the tall grass

Don’t mistake that for something
you have to kill
and dump in the ditch somewhere

Even if you left it there
it will find a way back to you

until you see it for the catapult it is
swinging you to the other side
of the water
the pit
the desert and the dark night

When you get there it’ll still be there

But it’ll have a different look in its eyes
gleaming and knowing
eager like dawn
calm like midnight

and so will you

Like your head on the pillow
of a Magellanic Cloud
a wound unwound
a jaw unclenched

dancing with
the tail of the rattlesnake
in one hand
the hand of the center
in the other