Wild Beauty

She watched him rage

with the rapid tide

like an oil painting

left to dry,

each stroke was wild

beauty, behind

him boats full throttle

calm as the horizon.

California September 2020

My words

My words, they are carried

like a seagull clenches crab

Plucked from the water

red claws pinching mad

Then dropped from the sky

to a hot pier of gull

A days hungry flock

who will never be full

Like Wicker Passed Round Midnight’s Mass

I dare not blame the 14 Hands

for feelings I have felt

Where midnight and I meet

the moon’s shadow can’t dispel

In daylights saving grace

I justly feel that I have felt

like wicker passed round midnight’s mass

each hand is doleful dealt

Eating edibles by the ocean

Her sun kissed skin

My wind swept hair

Eating edibles by the ocean

So happy we’re here

a Starry Night

How often do two minds dive

deep within the sea of time

whose infinite waters share the light

a moonlit dance if you’ll take mine

hand then we can share this sea

and dive to depths eternity

a Starry Night, Saint-Remy-de

it took an ear to hear you say

I see you, feel you, knew your name

long before that faithful day.

the shores of freedom’s water

Let breath become the ocean

each inhalation I do see

the shores of freedom’s water

are washing over me,

and with each exhalation

the ocean starts to breathe

I open my eyes gently

to gaze upon the sea.

Robin Williams

Robin Williams

under the right light

had the warmest

coldest, sincere

blue eyes.

Oh, those blue

blue eyes.

Like Arctic waters

were those sad blue eyes.

Just a man who

made voices

who made miracles

who made hearts sing

who made hearts sigh

though he couldn’t see himself

without those majestic blue eyes.

So perhaps he made a choice

with all depression laid aside

to go out as himself

before disease could take his mind

before it could wash away

those blue blue eyes.

a drop of rain

The steps you take are big

where mine are small,

the steps I take are soft

while yours make imprints.

For now it seems that I am lazy

as you wipe sweat off your brow,

try to understand my empathy

for oak trees rooted to the ground,

and take heed in the soil, though I may

not make a sound, a drop of rain

breathing life, the only way I know how.