Rain

Parkia Timoriana- Fabaceae-Pea Family

Movement

I’m moving on

past

the old boundaries of

I do not do that

I don’t think I can

I’m too old and

I’m afraid.

I’m plotting a new course

steering clear of old distractions

three steps forward

two back

taking the time

to listen and learn.

Pressing on because I MUST

and sidetracked

because

I hunger for what is comfortable

choosing safety

quelling my passion.

AND yet, I thirst

to make a difference

to leave my mark

to plant a seed, my seed

in the wild weed-ridden

misconstrued fields.

Hoping to turn wildflowers

into diamond pink petals and

lavender lined gardens

into a redolent harvest

of hybrid teas.

My arms open

willing to absorb the risk

stir in a bit of pain, discomfort.

I step up

into judgment

reaching out past the wise ones

the kupuna who have led me up to this place

the highest, most precious peaks

in the shadow of the Koolau

spreading their velvet-green robes

beyond

my self-imposed

self-absorbed limits

crowning present possibilities

seated upon this

pivotal throne.

Titanic Artifact Exhibition

Permission granted

come aboard the Titanic

cruise unsinkable. 

Dreaming

Dreaming
about the day
when I am a superstar
can only take me so far
and then what?

Will I magically transform
into a superhuman being
save lives
inspire
rewire the cosmic hard drive?
How will it change our universe
reflect
refract
belch
suck up
expand in a meaningful way?
and to whom
and for what purpose?

Does anyone REALLY know
and see the BIG picture?

There are literally thousands of theories
bombarding us everyday
electrons
protons
atoms
smashing
splitting
all around us
it’s amazing
that we
can HEAR
decipher
anything
at all.
Anything viable that is
over the concussion
percussion
discussion
Maalox
Taxes
Medical bills
Unemployment
Drug addict superstars
ENABLING doctors
Food borne illnesses
Egos of giant corporations
selling us one last pull
on the MEGA BUCK machine.

Now concentrate
stay with me
This is it!
Don’t waste it
you can almost taste it
on the tip of your tongue
and then…
it’ll be gone.

In the meantime you'll pick yourself up
dust yourself off
and continue to play this amazing game of pretend.
And wait for it...there’s a Barker
with a GIANT MEGAPHONE...directing you to step this way!

Okay--class
let’s pretend
EVERYTHING will all work out
that all of this chaos
is insignificant
and our distant relatives
or GODS if you prefer
from heaven
are just a little late
to pick us up
for our continuing trip
on the way
to our NEW HOME
where everything is
waiting for us
pristine
a paradise of epic proportions
and everybody you ever knew
is waiting there for you
to fill you in 

on what you’ve been missing
and they are so glad you came and
the only thing you are sorry about
is that it took you so long to die.

Then they take you
to feed the machine
you know the human eater
that shiny metal object over there
with the teeth.
Yeah—the one with your name on it.
But don’t WORRY
because you won’t feel a thing
because you are already DEAD
NOPE—won’t hurt a bit
AND THEN…
Then… you can eat all that ice-cream
and all the artery clogging shit
you’ve ever wanted
but couldn’t have
because of stupid things like high cholesterol
and heart disease.
You know…
because --like
you won’t have a heart anymore.
NOPE…you won’t have a heart
a body
limbs
Or a BRAIN.

You’ll just be a transparent
ground-up form
floating around in the ether
and shucks
I really hate to burst your bubble
but you know that safe ice-cream
that I was telling you about?
Well that shit ain’t real either
But it… Bitch--SLAP
sure was one
hell of RIDE
wasn’t it?

Sunrise 10-13-11

Silly--Savvy

Copy this

down but only

take credit for

what is yours

something I heard

repeatedly in school.

 Stick it

don’t pick it

on the wall

from the ground

where the moon don’t shine.

Paste your words

and your turds

on a visible sheet

separate the wheat

from the chaff

and laugh

don’t frown

lift your chins

stretch your neck

because heck

it just ain’t

pretty anymore.

Inspire

don’t tire

or get stuck

in the quagmire

of   forlorn

torn

and unglued.

Paint

don’t faint

from that beer

or good cheer

staring at the belly

of jelly

in the bottom

of your glass

fat bass.