I wonder in color,
dream in vivid hue.
count blessings on hands and feet,
awaken amid waxing blue

The days ever so bitter,
the time ever so lost.
all safely tucked away now,
forgotten tattered and tossed.

Optism is the brighter way,
joy is better still.
when hope and trust in greater things,
are resting in Father's will.

In her recent widowhood
she finely shreds the cabbage head,
boils eggs to the minute,
fries shallots till the flavors release,
stirs the sweet brine of kecap manis
into an oily peanut sauce
and honors us with gado gado.

Her body top-heavy with age,
her cheeks two rounds of krupuk dough,
I try to picture her in the camp
up before dawn to make porridge
as one child sleeps by the missionaries
and a newborn, undernourished, lies in a pram
freed up when death breezed over.

Here in the peace of her bungalow,

The land mourns her own, The children turned men she raised Patiently shielding for years Feeding and clothing for decades, Years, months, days, hours Even the expected ones in the wombs; Cut down within minutes, Never to rise again, By psychopaths who think themselves warriors, What true warrior attacks defenceless homes, What true warrior gives no room for self defence, Sneaking in on unassuming mothers, children, fathers. True warriors war to defend home and hearth, Not cattle and animals created for man Whose worth to them stands ahead of man Their brain working backwards As to place a co

I put my hope on
A green streetlight
That led me over
The Wabash River

From the bridge
I could see the
Tracks of deer
That had made it
Across the frozen water

They had not been halted
By the flashing red light
That kept me captive
On the other side

Perhaps I would follow suit
And see if the icy waters
Could hold my own weight

If the ice cracked

If the ice held

It wouldn’t matter

Either way
I’d see what lays beyond
This blasted stoplight

Ring
Lost
Mud
Broken from use
Worn with age

Note
Letter
Adoration
People joining
In the sight of gods

Magic
Loss
Void
Physical ceremonies
Holding people together

Love
Bond
Creation
Culture ties through time
Centuries of hatred broken

Write in a soft voice that carries a crossbow.

A Browning ZERO 7 Model 162,  bore sighted at 20 yards, 145 lb. draw weight, built-in cocking device, multi-reticule illuminated scope.

Tour Mt. Olympus in a Volkswagen Bus.

The gods and goddesses and all the magical beasts come out to greet me, fascinated and delighted by my mode of transportation.

Recline for a fortnight in shades of fancy.

Exist in dreamtide worlds of speculation and live completely in the visions of my mind.

Laugh at the incredible weight of being.

you. genius. (of the poetic kind)
you make movies out of words with no screens
you bring light to the darkest of spaces
you blow feeling into the most solid of structures

the work of genius is warped and tangled
there are no rules or manuals
change is your template
  both hated and revered

we came from nowhere
both connected and tethered far apart
our root was found below the ash of a great fire,
  started purposefully yet unknowingly
you used your words, your light, your breath
to push us above ground

Some are irreparable. It’s as if you snatched them from the bargain bin at Eddie’s junkyard by the train tracks. Still, you try the tried and true Elmer’s glue and duct tape, shims and string—double knotted. You ask your friends’ advice. They gawk and stare and try to sound hopeful. They talk of home remedies vapor rub and sitz baths, little yellow capsules that helped their cousin’s cousin cure one just like yours. Cannily, you set it aside, in that hard to reach cupboard in the kitchen, as if proximity to Campbell’s chicken soup could cure its commonplaceness, dispel its warts, heal its wo

the question’s begged:
is it unique,
or self-indulgent?

the insularity must be
getting to you
when weirdness is                           isolated
it gets even weirder

way up here
away from it all
it’s easy to be
incestuous with

enough cloud cover
creating’s well and good
just quit acting
like you’re a piece of it

and god damn take a bath
get a job you’re
making even a
lazy stoners start