Feet danling in the abyss 2000

 Red wine on a mountaintop

Communion with the Dao

We sit , per4ched on a ledge

Legs dangling in the abyss

Celebrating our climb

Onto this sacred mount

Our lone voices, six of us

Echo into a bottomless valley

Distant lights reflected

In a slowly growing mist

Silent lightning flashes 

reminding us of our places

A libation to the gods

spilled out on polished stones

Suddenly silent, suddenly awed

One by one, we stand, leave

Dizzy from our joyous communion

Dizzy again from our height

Stumbling into sheets and blankets

denied to early pilgrims

Our dreams and our reality

Lose their distinction on Tai Shan.

re-creation on Tai Shan 2000

 Perched on a stone, overlooking eternity

Black changes to blue

Blue to red

Red to Gold

Slow clouds creep across the sky

feathery prisms'

changing color

Herald the day

Sitting on a stone, counting bretahs

seeking erenity

in this sacred place

floating on clouds

The space between heaven and earth blurs

Shyly peeking now

Golden beams

Warm my soul

Many tongues 2000

 Afloat upon an ownerless sea

No man can own the waves

That slips gleefully between their fingers

I think how many tongues there might be

In pother places, rant and rave

But here , it is only the peace that lingers

How easily the rift was born

as men choose common sides

when God scattered them at a place called Babel

Today, the difference we may scorn

If we disregard our foolish pride

And over come the gap formed by such a fable.

sacred Daoist mountain Haiku 2000

Tai Shan, mountain home

 Boundary of heaven and earth

 AH, Most auspicious

Thoughts of Approaching Fall 2005

 Thoughts of Approaching Fall      2005

The evening lies heavily upon me

Uneasy hot breath

Drawn underneath this suffocating blanket of late summer

Occasional cool winds blow

Unexpected 

I close my eyes dreaming of our cool sheets

Long fingers shadow the field 

Boys dash here and there

Hair pasted to their brow in a glow of summer sweat

Their parents tread, gossip[

 Wiping away traces

of the paths of lone beads of sweat before they fall\

Their children, young

Dance in worship

Laugh, roll on grassy slopes celebrating the season

WE pay homage top passing  seasons

Pagan rituals

Replaced by pursuits of school clothing and long pants for short.

Cheer the team, sharpen the pencil

Gathering ourselves

In protective clans in answer to unconscious instinct

All electric homes, our lodge

Schools, churches, stadiums

We assemble, tell stories, guild against approaching cold and dark

Still cool sheets clothe us now

Overhead, this fan

Beats an eternal circle, matching the rhythm of our pulses

Autumn and cool spring are preserved here

The crowd , the sound nor electric light

Steels us tonight

Against the creep of shadows as does the touch of your hgand

existence

 

We exist always 

Never leaving this plane 

Recycled substance 

Reused over again

Not created, destroyed

Composed of Star matter

In some other time 

Assembled, scattered 

How many beings 

 Their atoms inside me?

Once lived on this plane 

As human, dog or tree?

Like jigsaw puzzles

Assembled ancient parts

Each new assembly 

Brings new chances, new starts 

Maeve

 Haiku for Maeve 

You are Far grander

 than the three years of your life

So loving and kind

Traveling in time

Tonight we are traveling in time 

Skipping across time zones like a flat rock across the surface of a pool

First one hour disappeared in our climb

Then a second , soaring from east to west as a rule 

Am I then younger? 

By an hour or two ? 

More life to live? By

What shall I do?

 

My old location is now older by two 

As we, having soared more quickly than handrs on. The clock

And those around us haven't a clue

That we traveled in time as easily as that skipping rock.

Wine in winter

 Wine 

Thank you for the wine 

Ah, a chilled white 

Yes, I know 

It's cold outside tonight 

But this glass of wine 

Is more than this glass

It's what it brings to mind

While cold winds chill us all 

I am sipping a red 

On the Adriatic Sea 

And it goes straight to my head

While the temp drops outside

I am In an  Italian  vineyard

Swirling my glass of white

And quoting lines of the Bard

The cold drives us inside

But from the bottle I drink

On a Chinese mount I sit

Dangling my legs over the Brink 

Thank you for the wine

This. Glass of white 

Is more than the glass 

It is what it brings to mind

trivia haiku

Charlie's Friday haiku

 I am like a sponge 

Of useless information "

Say, did you know....?

I Choose You

Thinking of you in bed tonight 

 The room is dark with muted light 

Your gentle snore, a spoken dream 

As you float along Morpheus stream

 What brought us to this here and now? 

What is the cause? What is the how?

 Of all the odds, of all romance 

A grand design or random chance

 Never have I believed in fate 

That chose my path or picked my mate 

Nor trust there is a scheme or plan 

That guides the step of every man 

 We are in this bed tonight 

Of darkened room and muted light 

Because of choice,

 you and  I

That is the cause, 

the reason why 

 My love is not some fated thing 

Or Made by bows and gods on wing 

It is lovely, fresh and new 

For freely, love, did I choose you

wine Haiku

Winter haiku 

 Lights and tree are gone 

Reds, greens, blues are now gray, brown 

Cold winds tug at us

post surgery Haiku

A post surgery Haiku 

 Minutes are like days 

Two hundred channels of crap 

 Not much to choose from

teen age broken heart

Bitter salty Tears announce their entrance 

Pieces of broken hearts litter the path they walk 

Leaving a trail they traveled ,

 as in a trance 

With a desperate need to speak, 

just to talk 

 The stories spill forth in gasping 

 Of the love they thought would be kind and true 

 The Dalton’s, the Hunters, the Scotts , Allen’s and Bobs 

A sad familiar reoccurring story that is always new

I Talk About The Dead

I talk about the Dead
The Departed
The great and the small
The morbidly preserved
And the body turned to dust

I talk about theDead
Death’s PR
The Grim Reaper’s press agent
Building interest, excitement
For those who linger only in memory

I talk about the Dead
The Infamous
Dangling at the end of a rope
Heads lost at the flash of a blade
For their inhumanities to man

I talk about the Dead
The kind, the hopeful
Who struggled against oppression
Who sacrificed and sorrowed
In effort to improve the human condition

I talk about the Dead
Their dusty tombs
Their fossilized remains
Evidence hidden in earth or sea
Or great monuments erected in their memory

I talk about the Dead
In reverence
In horror of their misdeeds
In awe of their great achievements
That slowly, slowly erode away

I speak of the Dead
For Speechless,
They have become, unknown
And I speak of the lesson they teach
By their very act of existence

I speak of the Dead
Well knowing
That I, That you, that all
Regardless of wealth, race, or sex
Will join their ever growing ranks

So, to keep them alive
I speak of the Dead

we share the same air

We share the same air

It Moves

From your lungs to mine

We see the same sunrise

Even apart

We each see it shine


We feel the same breeze

It moves

And surrounds we two

We awake the same morning

And we walk

Through the same dew


The same ancient planet

Revolves

Under both of our feet

The same old sun above

Radiates

And we swim in its heat


We share the same space

Molecules

From the beginning of time

The very same Star Stuff

Timeless

Unexplained and sublime


Now we share thunder

And rain

whose drops fall in rhyme

Celestial night flashes

I’ll share

lightning with you anytime

Chnaged by my 1st visit to China

And I am changed again
Molded with each experience
Shaped
Formed
Smoothed

As I am changed again
Each acts as the potters hands
Places
Persons
Odors

As a liquid conforms to the vessel
As clay responds to the hand
Flowing
Shifting
Growing

And I am changed again
and again and again and again

Thoughts After a Funeral

The Flame

Today I viewed a Friend of MIne
Her spirit gone
Shell Left behind

I observed in state she lay
Concrete walls
Within she’ll stay

Sealed airtight, safe and alone
That fragile shell
Of Skin and None

When Pluto makes his call for me
I ask you please
Don’t bury me

Don’t cover me with clay and stone
Free my atoms
From this fleshy home

I ask for fire that consumes the flesh
I have no desire
For a natural rest

Prometheus will dine on me
And spread my ash
On air land and ea

My molecules and atoms swarm
On sooty plume
Of air so warm
Mariah acts now as my guide
Eagles soar
Now at my side

Freed then from the bonds of birth
My atoms will
Encircle earth

The air you breathe, the clouds you see
Shall all
Bear molecules of me

So give me fire to cleanse this shell
The flame of heaven
Not that of hell

And everything that you can see
Will be a bit
Of the soul of me

early to rise while you sleep

Cursed, I am, to rise well before the sun
Daily
Living another life before others rise

So, I piddle, I sweat, I think, I run
Daily
Before seeing another set of open eyes

In the cool, dark solitude of morning
Wistful,
I imagine you drifting in oceans of sleep

Softly breathing, tangled in covering
Wistful
Sighs and soft smiles as dreams slowly creep from the deep

Pretty feet and painted toes peek from sheets
Shadows
Bathe you as night begrudgingly yields to the day

And I sit, breathing deep, as my pulse beats
Shadows
Recede, Bands of light inch across where you lay

Reluctantly freed from a dream’s deep water
Slowly
My sweat has cooled, I rise to face Come-What-may

My thoughts turn to you, the mermaid’s daughter
Slowly’
Rising to join the chaos of another new day

the temple

Whose hand placed this stone?
How many hands
Now only memory and dust,
Laid hands upon this stone?

Whose sweat marked this stone?
With effort under the sun
Or with effort for the gods?
Whose belief wet this stone?

Whose blood stained this stone?
In a city of pain, sacrifice
A gift to feed ancient gods
As their blood stained the stones