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My Poetry and Commentary on Life

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my faith

by

Arcana, hope, mythic, poetry, tarot

the staff flowers

from the fractures

of my heart

and in this

beatific vision

I trust

as before

and will again

the moment

which tongues

the air

between us

to be true

and from this

fallow ground

the tree will

tangle earth

and sky

into more

than I

could

ever know

(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” Acewands, January 10, 2014)

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within the space of a class

by

education, interrelationships, poetry, response, social construction, teaching, traces, ways of knowing

my students are not

mirrors

I do not see

myself in them

I find them

within me

and talk

to a wiser self

about

the fragility

of trust

the danger of fear

the eternity

of hope

and misunderstanding’s

loneliness

(January 8, 2014)

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Catalyst

by

Arcana, conversation, family, interrelationships, poetry, social construction, tarot, traces

at home

with friends

and family

dinner and wine

simple conversation

a simple celebration

of each other

a simple recognition

of each other

here

within this house

is where we are

here

within this house

the world transforms

(from a work in progress: “Arcana, ”IVwands, January 8, 2014)

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Erato’s Advice

by

desire, poetics, poetry, writing

roll their tongues

            inside your mouth

kissing their words

            as if they

were your lovers

and in the afterglow

                        strip off all

            that is not yours

and speak

(January 7, 2014)

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Turning

by

acceptance, Arcana, control, fate, life, liminal, poetry, tarot

“……as a Chinese jar still 

Moves perpetually in its stillness.”

–T.S. Eliot

The sky’s cleared,

stars shine

within this

depthless black.

Stand here.

The sun will rise,

you know this

as true – –

your dark

will fall away;

stand here,

and welcome the day.

You decide

your clarity.

(from a work in progress, “Arcana,” Aceswords, January 7, 2014)

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wake into it

by

anger, Arcana, control, dream, life, poetry, tarot

the dream shatters into my day

with all its fear and self-recrimination

slicing deeply into all I believe

I rip at the flesh on my face

to peel like leeches the horrors

of what I’ve done to myself

my screams’ echoes reverberate

off the fragments of my bones
towards time’s hot beginnings

(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” IXswords, January 6, 2014)

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warm praise

by

Arcana, hope, hubris, poetry, sonnets, tarot

I show disdain for the praise of others

yet we’re all such communal animals

that the smallest word of kindness grows

beyond the constrained measures of my heart

I feel guilt for harboring such pride

afraid of being seen as arrogant

for taking joy in my accomplishments

however small and insignificant

the seeds I plant and protect as they grow

give me more than merely something to do

there’s value in being the one in the room

value in being one who sees value

so to keep me warm through this long cold night

I once again gather up my scraps of praise

(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” VIWands, January 6, 2014)

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the work matters

by

Arcana, creativity, dream, identity formation, life, poetry, tarot, ways of knowing, work

thirty-five years

after he died

before me drowning

in phlegmatic cancers

dad rose from dreams

then and now I heard

his responsible voice

you go to the work

I work then I work

within my way

what I lay down

arises from me

the past answers

the present questions

the future unfolding

(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” Kingwands, January 5, 2014)

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(archeology of meaning)

by

borders, fragments, interpretation, language, meaning, metaphor, poetry, storytelling, Uncategorized, ways of knowing

Shattered pots

Clay-footed

shards

a potter’s mark?

fragments hint

toward structure

partially

not there

(from: “primogenitive folly,” August 2001-April 2003)

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defined success

by

Arcana, doubt, irony, life, poetry, tarot

I’m myopic most days

but know how to behave

I am here now

within my skins

friend

father

lover

my limits bother me most

my experience

my knowledge

my morals

my boundary’s my vision

I’m discomfited

by my comforts

uncomfortable in

the things I see

It would be

so simple

to take off my glasses

and breathe

to relax into

what I’ve

become

(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” IXPentacles, January 4, 2014)

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(truth and lies, warp and weft)

by

community, fragments, interpretation, obsessions, poetry, social construction

truth is a complicated lie

in which we are all complicit

with more or less awareness

of the fabric we all weave

you decide the coarseness

of the cloth, the patterned

tightness of the web

you drape about the objects of the world

beneath the warp i repeat my sad words

like charms over bones

another ritual recitation

of the way i want my world to be

(from: Primogenitive Folly, August 2001-April 2003)

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a quick bit of advice

by

acceptance, Arcana, doubt, hope, life, oblivious, poetry, tarot

look up–

as if family

friends and

love were

not enough–

you have poetry

whispering songs

to you

as well–

listen–

to the wind

and dance–

you self

involved

pathetic

git

(from a work in progress, “Arcana,” IVCups, January 3, 2014)

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wisdom arrives habitually late

by

Arcana, fate, life, middle-age, poetry, process, tarot

the horse plods along before the plow

the work of the field is monotonous and slow

the cycles play out in patterns across the sky

stubbornly I persist within my angers

within dissatisfactions growing like kudzu

through my daily thoughts and dreams

I look at the rich earth in my hands

there is no need for extraneous effort

I can dance to the rhythms of the stars

(from a work in progress, “Arcana,” knightpentacles, January 3, 2014)

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Flame into Heaven

by

i ching, poetry

January 3, 1995

Movement becomes inevitable.

A ship slips across water

yielding the way. Flowers

bloom in the sun each

morning and afternoon:

laughter, love, and friends.

(from “My Book of Changes, 1994-1995)

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A Good Worker

by

Arcana, dissatisfaction, fate, life, poetry, tarot

after being smacked with a club again

my skull cracked and bleeding it seems

I would not worry so much as I still do

I will do what I need to do because I do

not so much from pride ‘though that’s there

but knowing I have and will do so again

happiness is an illusion not merely illusive

but irrelevant as the task before me waiting

again to be taken up by these broken hands

(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” IXWands, January 2, 2014)

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