(to the people who
gave me s**t for feeding
the sparrows)
the life of a sparrow
is an enviable one
outside the starbucks
at 7th and figueroa
the ground mimics the same
brick and umber shades
as a sparrow's wing
stale bits of manna
rain down from the sky
and pale suns frown
in the lower stratosphere
of a gray morning
but the sparrow and
his compadres may not see
what i see - surrounded by
coffee addicts leashed to
their techno devices while
proudly struting around in
their instititional armani wear...
and this is why I prefer
to share my breakfast
with companions as evolved
as these...
The Icarus Principle
Waiting in blood means listening patiently.
- I-Ching, The Book of Change
you begin with the
Truth in hand; a scalpel
that you handle with
careful precision;
you have already secured
my permission to
sever a tendon
affecting my flight pattern.
the operation
is performed swiftly,
with no chance of infection -
though, as the blood pours
out of my wound and
down my back, it burns hot
like the day I flew
too close to the Sun
and, blind with arrogance
I fell back to Earth
wounded and confused.
while you calmly waited
for me to find you
I suffered through the
rewards of my lunacy.
my journey begins
anew when you tell
me immortality can't
be found ascending
heights I'm not ready
for - but the Light I seek
exists within me.
Rilke's 21 century moment
o
young
poet
i am sorry
when the mind & pen
are at odds with one another
& you ask me: how do i propel myself into
the
wide
white space
of the page?
& i say to you:
deep in your soul
are all the words you need
to lead you to the center of the truth of the poem...
this
is
not the
best advice
i can offer, but it's
the most I can come up with on
a moment's notice & under a deadline's duress.
love in the time of samsara (*)
(to Fr. L.E.O.)
i can only gather
in a futile & selfish attempt
the fragile
piquant shards of
a cherished &
barely-realized dream
in shedding
mundane constructs
we caught a
fleeting glimpse
of recognition
across time & beyond
shared fears
of
You &
I...
the
WE
are
of who & what & why...
but,
not the how...
that's of
no importance,
i say, again,
selfishly...
which, of course
is the cause of
my confusion at
our next encounter
as you stare past me,
an unwelcome stranger
who unexpectedly arrived
on your threshold... & at
the wrong destination.
(*) Sanskrit for the six-fold cycle of reincarnation
