Poetry Ash

"Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well poetry is just the ash." - Leonard Cohen

Kafka - Level of voice, the situation, the posture, the incident, the line.

Great writing is simple but not easy.

Blow / draw blues harp. Sing alive!

Wild deep pleasure w/supple friend

Massage to sweet O surrender, laugh, relay skin talk

Pleasure wisdom joy

"Those who love with heart and soul there is no separation - distance from a lover and from time, feeling, experience ... In your light, I learn how to live. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no one sees you, but I do and that sight becomes this art. Those who love only with eyes feel separation when they say goodbye." - Rumi

Beauty & Respect

Tell me about the village. It is a microcosm.

Simple happy people live, work, breed and die.

They know desire, anger and ignorance exists outside the village.

Inside they practice compassion and meditation. They love singing and dancing.

They cherish nature with beauty and respect.

They accept responsibility for their choices and actions with free will.

A free people they practice gratitude with an open heart-mind.

Kind and loving they walk to the pagoda or wat

daily to make offerings and receive blessings from the monks.

They sit in meditation together. Their calm heart-mind is a lotus blossom.

A monk rings a bell.

Echoes flow to the village and beyond. Frequencies and vibrations dance.

her chance

Bursa, Turkey

the woman on the metro

with a burned leg - you remember her clearly
how she sat after dragging her bad leg

into the compartment
this image of her
alone
cold
scared
in pain
how did it happen? why is she alone?
on a cold night in a flimsy sweater

her skin below the knee
running to her ankle
all burned away
exposing blood red lines

her abstract expression
her sacred scared distracted face
watching night fly past windows
where blue televisions and children eye each other

how she kept going
on the metro past a stop
where the expensive private hospital on a Roman
hill gleamed its extensive intensive pensive care
ward and her treatment was delayed
forgotten useless
here

because she is poor
so she stayed in her seat
anxious now feeling her pain
wondering where she would go
where she would end up this night

as a stranger studied her anxious passive 
expression feeling burns, violent burns
inside sensations fire and heat
nerve impulses darting through

along sensory
channels where signals blocked by
neurotransmitters shut down
her chance

Wild & Free

Ferocious afternoon waves wind magic

 Midnight Blue Ink 

Pigment

Prussian Blue

Hokusai – the Great Wave

31

Wave cloud

Empty beach lone butterfly

Boat sails into a mirror on silver edges

Sparkling dancing light curls waves

Floating world

Yellow slivers of happiness signal a metaphor

Luxury shadows - deep eyes stare people

Star trails

Strong deliberate wind

Tides

Geo therm o nuclear laughter

Flies a kite

Low season

Energy and matter

Animate and inanimate objects

Grow Your Soul - Prose & Poems Laos/Cambodia

Sing

Clouds gather mass

Rain song

Waves curl dance

Empty beach

Sandcastles

Meditation

I appear every seventeen years. What am I?

*

In dreams begin responsibility – W.B. Yeats

Khmer family hauls relatives, pots, pans, kids and laughter

To a never ending beach party

Healthy Fear Doubt & Uncertainty stalks courage

In a random universe

Everyone talks at once

Because they are too poor to pay attention

The loudest one

Is Happy Noise champion

Ladies and gentlemen

Step right

Up

The Greatest Show on Earth!

Buy a ticket

Take the ride

Kid shovels sand

Wave waves farewell to a wave

Lost blind eyed adults

Minus attention span

Discuss whining possibilities

In unforgiving universe

Small skinny children sing

My stomach comes first

 

Waves of churning

Wisdom seeking wisdom

Laugh

In a floating world Ukiyo-e

Dreams accept responsibility

You become the thing you fight the most

Your mask eats your face

Grow Your Soul - Prose & Poems from Laos / Cambodia