poem of the day June 30

The glowing bead was over

a thousand years old

and had many lovers

Some spanning almost

a hundred years

The bead remembered

each and every breath

of all that wore her

around their souls

knowing lifetimes come and go

full of the eternal love 

seeded within her glow

poem of the day June 29

The magic pen ran out of ink

just before midnight

Leaving all souls

to fend for themselves

Inside of dreams

they traveled having

to choose the way

through long doors

without a map

Some of the doors

were open wide with

all kinds of desire

Some of the door

were closed with dark locks

that had to be picked

in the darkness

Slowing with unsure steps

they made their way

past lines of fate

where the weak

dropped into past impressions

Until the remaining souls

entered the last door

right before dawn

Shining new light on the fountain of pens

poem of the day June 28


I keep watching the indoor plants

outside for the summer

trying to think what they are thinking

Do they like the great outdoors?

Do they like real rain

the kind that gets you drenched

down to the soul?

Or are they suffering 

from strong sun winds

without the sunscreen protection of windows?

Are they afraid of wild plants

or are they friends with the fruit trees?

What do they think of birds that shit

on them as if they were just a piece of wood?

Do they hate me for the bugs

that eat them?

Or are they happy to be on vacation from

the loneliness of inside

trapped with no light but me?

poem of the day June 27


Do you want to dance?

The question is open

Where

When

How to place the feet

One step at a time

With who

With you

Or me

Or you

With who

through history

What lives do we lead

within the inner mask?

poem of the day June 26


The swelling

from yelling

is a condition

of loud mouth

which forms at

the beginning 

of every breath

How loud you  are

depends

on what

you pitch

when living the stitch

poem of the day June 25


Why did you walk off the runway?

Why did you take a chance?

Was it a vision or something sublime

that made you swing for the branch?

Was the fruit exotic?

Was it red and ripe?

What has the sun done

for fun in warming

the endless night

Eyes that see inside

are often confused

with this dream

for something that

spans the long 

bridge of man

the light has to fade

with the scene

poem of the day June 24


Swimming in air

is much safer

then swimming in the sea

You don't have to worry

about sharks or drowning

You don't need

a towel to bask

in destiny

"But why" 

I said to me

"Is it so much more fun to swim

in the sea?"

poem of the day June 23


They were melting Buddhas 

to make brass knuckles

The factory could not keep

up with the hate

Wooden Jesus

arrived in a bin

with plastic Kwan Yin

and were shoveled into the furnace

along with countless other Deities 

Right before drowning in the molten sea

Kwan Yin asked Jesus

"What happen to the compassion tree?"

Jesus answered

"It died because they worshiped the wrong me"

poem of the day June 22


A moment of truth 

in a sea of delusion

A moment of delusion 

in a sea of truth

The waves crashing over 

the long handled driftwood

floating on faith

water logged with perseverance 

riding the currents

that twist in circles

where the foam clouds

seesaw the direction 

of perfect imperfection

into tiny bubbles full of random chance

poem of the day June 21


There are too many rabbits

running around

the farm trying to do 

my garden harm

and the dogs are no help 

They are part of the problem

ripping up the flower beds in

search of chipmunks

I need some divine intervention

otherwise all my gardens

will go

inch by inch

row by row

poem of the day June 20


On the eve of the longest day

waiting in the early dawn

Birds about in full song

singing their salute to the sun

now whispering over the trees

I feel one with the Earth

like a giant pendulum

linked with all other souls

as time reaches

forward with

the full weight of the light

poem of the day June 19


If the way

is blocked

then change

your socks

It might be 

the smell

of hell

Hard to tell

if you are stuck

in the same old mane

I wish the fish

had not lived in 

a bowl

then it would know

the way was sold

poem of the day June 18


For the wind

to blow on tomorrow

there has to be

currents

from yesterday

I sit as the captain

of my own little

mind

absorbing

the thoughts

of today

Like why wait

for the old emperor

who is content

to be part of the sea

I think he feels sorry

for those souls that miss their own sunset

while tending his tree

I do not know their special karma

or anything about their daily toil

but when the boxes arrive with good faith flowers

they all have to be thrown away

I have been cursed to be a watcher

a writer

which means

something

very grey

When painting all thoughts of life

within the milky strive

Remember it is all

part of the play

poem of the day June 17


A long time

watching

from

a peek hole

in the wall

Eyes pressed

with emotion

straining to see

the dream of

the other side

The black beach

of a lifetime

creeps like

a tide inside

fueling the tears

that may

or may not

clog the tunnel at

the entrance of the door

poem of the day June 16


How do you know

if up is the place to be

Perhaps some dreams

require

the mix of

opposites

A frown is like

a mountain

but does nothing but

cultivate misery

A smile is like a valley

that soars up to happiness

Just ask the eagle as it

travels on the vast expanse

of love and hate

poem of the day June 15


so calm

no wind

hardly a sound

very meditative

the earth so peaceful

not a leaf out of place

yet the day

has been shattered

by the atrocities of man

poem of the day June 14


I was driving through 

New England towns

on a busy holiday

moving slow with

the summer flow

feeling something was missing

Then I realized most towns

no longer have a special town tree

to hang around

It made me think of the old Oak

that stood on the hill

in my town

That tree fell down 

I remember the tears

as the past seeped out

with a gasp

But then I spotted a large

green canopy

I felt happy

until I drove by to find

It was just a cell tower

disguised as a maple flower

poem of the day June 13


The wind in the tree

leaves no trace 

of yesterday's air

Air from North Canada

is now among us

Cool crisp atmosphere

greeted by the same sun

that warmed the same air

perhaps a thousand miles away

on the Bay of Fundy

then rode the wind

all night for me to breath on Monday

poem of the day June 12


All the table were taken

I watched from my perch

The happy table

The sad table

The angry table

The worried table

The desire table

until the place was

late and empty

It was then I noticed

all the dishes on 

each table

were the same 

discarded past emotions

Soon to be reset

with the clay

for another day

poem of the day June 11


The sounds of birds

before the dawn

What are they

singing in their songs?

Is it a mantra for light and love?

Is it a healing from  high above?

How many generations have passed

the notes that I listen to

above the calm

ushering in the call of psalms

and what  can I learn from

their mystical chant

perhaps a clue

of how to dance

poem of the day June 10


Soft and hard

Up and down

bouncing between

the eyes of a clown

Where's the ceiling?

Where's the floor?

Is it an exit

or entrance door?

"A little bit of both"

said the I in the clown

"just do your best

to smile the frown"

poem of the day June 9


Now I have seen it all

A bunch of wrens

eating road kill

gathered around 

the old dead squirrel 

having a jamboree

singing songs

as they munch along

poem of the day June 8


The air after a rain

has a clarity

that is infectious

Able to settle

even the most

troubled mind

Fresh cleaned

atmosphere

teaming with subtle

earth energies

mix with the vibrations

of long breath

short breath

to bring the best

of heaven and earth

to the soul of time

poem of the day June 7


So when those over thought

were in the middle

of the moat

Did the boat go round

and round

nowhere

in the circle mound?

Did it win

the long boat race

or did it fail

the human race?

Was the middle belt

part of hell?

Did it force Yates to yell?

Would he have walked 

in the hall of self

if he had lovers

before the melt?

Would he have

wished the mole

to be the whole

of was he right

that life was toil?

poem of the day June 6


The first breath

of a Violet

The bloom

of a flower

The magic of life

Mother

Father 

Daughter

Eyes all joined

Wide open

teaming

beaming

as the iron bond of love

opens the euphoric bliss 

passed down from generations

Welcome to the world

Violet May Meyer

poem of the day June 5


Two eyes on earth

One looking down

from the top of the mountain

One looking up

from the valley floor

Each sees the eagle

flying somewhere between

the crack of the worlds

Bringing the near

closer to the far

with each flap of the wing

poem of the day June 4


There was only

one firefly left

in the whole world

minding its own business

trapped in a cage

in a zoo

when a narcissistic clueless human

crashed through

the impenetrable fence

to touch the light

The last of the fireflies

came to see what

was  happening

The  action was considered

life threatening and

the firefly was regrettably killed

to save the life of a single stupid human

out of more then two billion

God just shook his head

in stunned disbelief

poem of the day June 3


I am watching

a slow rain

evaporate

before dawn

Little puddles

over stone steps

disappearing back 

into the granite

The grass on either side

of the walk

held their drops

like fragile pearls

being offered to the mother

The brown freshly

turned garden

wore a thin rained coated smile

Everything was perfect

as I waited for 

the circle of the sun

poem of the day June 2


I was in the dream

way up in the sky

I was flying

in an airplane

watching the rain

fall on Spain

when out of my window

I spotted an open door

sitting on top of a cloud

I was horrified

as I peeked in

and saw the huge lines of sin

waiting to come in

poem of the day June 1


Of course I

would see a rabbit

on Rabbit Day

racing across 

the old highway

I could see

no smile on its face

darting from danger to danger

to dangerous place

Was the poor rabbit

worried it would be late

for its fate?