A different kind of ignition

A charring ash

Beside a stone

Needs no more rain

To cool it's skin

But you

With blowing confusion

And a clueless

Unbeknownst to self

Toss matches down

Till gasoline streams

Well up from the shale

And "poof" aloud

Now I am flame

Here again to be found

Don't challenge me

Like the suns first fire

For I am around ever

And will come around

To burn again

Oh clueless man

Dare you dare

Piss and challenge

Me again

Storms are

As storms will tell you

And shaking masts of bitter still

And splinters raining from the sky

Your world acrash below a swell

No voice to hear this solemn sound

Or wish to find in horozons eye

Except how we

As sailors a scurry

Shoyld know better then

To doomsday a different will

Why?

Because no storm is ever the worst

There are just storms

Forever

Love is

Love is not staying in bed

For hours on end

No

That is the feeling instead

And love is this

This forward thought

With such aim that it will not miss

Because it knows

A nature most aware of self

I am a dreaming creature
The kind which looks at self and sees
The constant pattern of love and stuck
In practices so well-known
That I
Not in an act of self worship or love
Catch myself thinking "if"
And also "I could only be"
Then more would be more
And somehow I most suddenly would
Be in someways more free

When really, I've been so all along and am

Who I am is am

What I believe is me

An early early morning tanka

Sunrise winks at me

With a cheeky smile of known

Having seen my sleep

And so little of me here

At this peace I am unknown

A growing out

Creation is special being

When breath is breathed

And life is felt

And suddenly the heart you imagined

Is suddenly being

And beating

And surrounded you are all around

Then only then

Can you look at those who breathe around

And say

"You are found, and I found you"

In this creative way

We abound

And together grow, out

Where I wish to stand

Clear my mind of fear and doubt

Drive out all negative seas and storms

And set my feet beyond sandy shores

On the kind of ground where my eyes can see

And my mind can glance at true perspective around

Distant Lines

You can glance at a horizon

Which is not in your direction

And without a stirring in your feet

Remain faithful to your walk

For observation and sight and seeing

Are not the same as faithful being

So long as your heart is not wanting

For a different height or climb

You can always appreciate someone elses

Horizon line

Though appreciation is where I always draw the line

You’ve yet to meet a decent poet

Good poetry is not breathy

But like breath it breathes

And speaks new life into the world

In both a manner and way

Which could never be displeasing

For when a person is on

Such good terms with words

You should let them share

And speak their love affair

Most freely

Trust me

most beneficial it will be

(to see)

A Dark Winter'sTanka

Slowly approaching

Is both the winter and you

My bright springtime love

And I wait like the nighttime

For this dark hour to be through

Responsibility

I no longer know

What a youthful wish is

For I am trapped between

All ages and scenes

And have only the imagination to dream

In this one most particular way

For I am neither the sight nor the seen

And want more than anything now

This responsibility of you

To which I am most happily new

I want

Flight

A caged bird

Knows not the height of the sky

But dreams of flight

Be it only in the room beside

Some wings just weren't meant

To be truly free

Some birds are never given the chance

To imagine what could be

Morning love

Soak through the ground

Like the dirt you know where my heart is found

Beneath sky, and storm, and morning dew

Around is where such begins anew

My love for you

Your hatred is your worldly weakness

Love concurs

And fells walls

And builds families

Up and up

But as for the down

The lost and crooked limbs

Which also grow

Both round and round

Don't hate the twisted arms of fate

But know and never

Underestimate the hateful heart of man

Which falls and falls

Only God provides the suitable

Downstream

The measure of a man

Is not what he does or fails to do

But who he is

And the greater of these will always be

Like frozen snow on the mountain peaks

The prior, and never what we merely see

Downstream

Broken brush

It's like I'm a painter

Who can no longer hold the brush

Is no longer fluent with the colorant stain

And through certainly there are other forms

Of acrylic and enamel and oil

All of which are not and the same

It hurts the soul most deeply today

And with great force I am hit

By the understanding that I can no longer paint

The young man in me remembers still

But I am not the same

Never the same

Embodied Dream

When you meet your dream

Embodied and full standing there before you suddenly

You need to be reminded

That it’s not

That she is something else entirely

Saria

The wind and weeds

Goosegrass grows

In the wind which knows

How its own voice would be silent

Without such promiscuous weed

Such a relationship is ironic

No?

Haiku of stone

For this I am not

A man of brick and mortal

But of words instead

A sound to soak in

I await the day

When your harp voice calls

And aloud

Sings our newly sprouted flowers

(A song)

As all voices do

But especially yours

Will be a wonderful sound

Which I will soak in most long

And until then longingly

Saria

Saria