
14 Monday Jul 2025

14 Monday Jul 2025

14 Monday Jul 2025

14 Monday Jul 2025
Dreaming of ghosts
those around me sought to manipulate
and control, power being their drive,
I wanted only to know where the unsettled were,
their movements, their inner state.
Less concerned with ghosts than the living
and that sickness acting from within,
I walked outside in darkness,
exiting half broken buildings, for clearing,
for simply to see.
Night brought vision.
13 Sunday Jul 2025
This magic of thunder!
And tasting rain in each breath.
Drink, desert, drink,
the Mountain, she needs her wetness
and the birds to carry it forth.
Go dance in the rain, arms up-stretched in the air,
your dreams may return to you,
your mischief renewed.
10 Thursday Jul 2025
Posted in history, liberation, Life, poems, poetry
≈ Comments Off on History
The homeless man was not in his hollyhock bed today,
nor the man who occupies the most touristed sidewalk
with his dirty beanbag and knife–
one a child the other day very nearly picked up
after spying the unlocked and shining blade on a ledge,
fortunately stopped by a parent–
and who–the following day–had shed his own blood
in great crimson splotches a couple yards long across the old concrete
from a wound unknown where
yet occupied, upright, space beneath the overhang
fully animated..
It’s a lively, though often drugged, bunch with angles of unpredictable dangerousness,
their slow stories unfolding in glimpses when I pass, with generous berth,
in dry, bright mornings.
The pain, chaos and lynchings of the plaza play out sideways,
overlay and blink between,
plastic carrying tourists who buy what those on the street
have nowhere to store.
History continues through current actors unconsciously until
resolution finds its brilliant way through the cracks.
09 Wednesday Jul 2025
As one sunflower reaches beyond the rooftop
and another suddenly aims straight northward,
enormous striped grasshoppers,
along with their small neon green brethren,
bounce every which way,
skitter piles of dry elm seedpods and creep,
sticky-like, slow, elegant and silent,
up the window frame.
They’ve been kind enough to punch countless holes
in the hollyhock leaves–
seems the Sun asked for more contact with the ground.
Kind of them to oblige…
04 Friday Jul 2025
Wetness of the earth
after night’s sudden and generous rain
settles the sharp dust of hard happenings.
Sleep came long and heavy,
dreaming ridding a poison too old to name.
Bless the waters
and millions of emergent stars hitched
to an approaching clear darkness.
02 Wednesday Jul 2025
Clouds form over the distant olive hills,
soft in morning light.
By afternoon, when heat has cooked the world white
and this desert sky holds back some of its blue,
those same clouds will tower and be belly grey and thick,
heavy with rain they can’t wait to loose.
Our bodies will vibrate with thunder.
28 Saturday Jun 2025
It starts so early, this putting down of the girls.
Father of young girl with blonde locks tumbling
walks past and our brief exchange
circles around cherries:
This one doesn’t like them, he says,
She’s the picky one.
A. Who cares, this like/dislike
B. How about an understanding heart, pal?
But, no, gotta put ’em down.
Old, old story–nothing to do with blessed cherries.
I shrug–
That’s okay, nobody has to like ’em, I say–
for her,
to him.
I’ve been that girl in the family’s eyes
my whole life long.
Let them have their judgments for company.
Keep walkin’, little sister.
27 Friday Jun 2025
Posted in liberation, poems, poetry
≈ Comments Off on A blueberry
Once,
I was about to eat a blueberry,
a ripe and plump, little blue sphere.
Touching that berry,
on its way toward my mouth, I saw
a sudden bloom of many dozens–
dozens!–
of the tiniest spiders ever
skittering from their birthplace.
Imagine,
your whole world,
a blueberry,
until breaking out into this one.
Perhaps, when time comes,
we are to do the same.