Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Never Twice

She said she'd never leave him,
And true to her word, she didn't;
Until the day she finally did.
But you never step in the same river twice.

Stars in their eyes

Eyes like the night sky
With points of light
Brighter than stars

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Spring in February

Spring in February,
crocus and daffodils have bloomed;
cold wind bites my hands.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Purple Hat Moon

Moon with purple hat.
Eyes create the illusion:
Burned-in spots of sun.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Thoughts After Midnight In the New Year

Just about a year and an hour ago, I went to bed angry at the world. Tonight I go to bed content, although I'm just as alone as I was last year, and superficially not much has changed.

But my attitude has changed drastically: my mind is on what is instead of what I want. I'm focused on being present and mindful. I hope to be a force for good in every new year of life that may come.

I'm learning not to be fearful, preparing for death by really living life. I hope I can share this sense of the value of mortality, and spread compassion and understanding in all things.

I'd like you to be part of my piece of this existence. I hope to learn from you, and to teach you, if I can and if I may. Let's live this life and be present together.

Mettā

In 2015 may you find peace and happiness.
May you understand yourself and others better.
May you replace harmful old habits with better new ones.
May you find love within yourself and share it freely with the world.
May you have no problems--or at least may you have patience, determination, courage, and understanding to overcome the ones you'll inevitably face.

Ghosts

If a ghost is uncertainly glimpsed, thin mist,
Then in the thickest fog, everything's a ghost.

Ghost cars.
Ghost cows.
Ghost farms.
Ghost sheep.
Ghost towns, ghost barns, ghost trees,
Ghost house, ghost park, ghost street.
Ghostly old folk.
Ghosts of the American dream.

Ghost dreams
And ghost thoughts
Flood my mind,
In a fog of nebulous mist,
All ill-conceived.

Ghosts in the machine
That is this world:
Hungry ghosts,
Grudging ghosts,
Fading ghosts unseen.
As time wears on,
Forgotten ghosts
not yet passed on;
Ghosts themselves deceased.

Subtractive Sculpture

Learning to know someone
Positively, carefully done,
With loving kindness,
Is subtractive sculpture.

Let the first impression
Be a block of solid marble:
Each subsequent encounter
A chipping and chiseling away

Of gross material yielding
Increasingly finer chips,
Sculpting out subtler details,
Gradually growing more beautiful.

Though it seems to take away,
The process is actually additive:
The shrinking slab of marble
And sculptor both made greater.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Free parts

A girl in three parts,
Dancing freely, glimpsed
In three windows' reflections.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Brushfire, Brushstrokes

B r u s h s t r o k e s
Shrub
          spokes
Field            smokes
Fires            stoked
         Evoked
Eyes              looked
       Misspoke

      Mind woke