God, the "Great Iconoclast."
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Poems 2021
​
​Above the Fray
Spark

​Caste
Mistaken Identity 

Exiled
​

Pearl
Spirit Friend, I Miss You
Bok Choy Moment
Ronald: In Loving Memory

Hold On

In Love with a Confederate
Prisoners
​

Pep Talk
Prayer
Sacred Friend
Forget Me Not

The Body
Natural Birth
Two Serpents
​

​On My Time
No Defense
Savior
Nicole
Nook and Cranny

Dream
Lawn Mower
The Disfigured Mother
Third Step

Picture
​​Above the Fray

star
blooms
within
a dark arc
.
.
.
ahhh
.
.
.
a window,
open in this cathedral,
lets a crow
come cawing

into lofty calm;
undetected
thoughts
shift,
create a rift
pull away
from starry,
or purple,
or blue-black
third-eye nave;

wise
serpent's eye
in Love
​coos
"no matter who
you are,
what you have to say,
move along for now,
go on your way;"
.
.
.
dove-gentle
return
to seek
You

​let go
as Spirit
hovers
over the deep
.
.
.
over the face
of the waters
.
.
.
above the fray
.
.
​.
til another crow
enters the nave
to be Loved
​away.


Spark

Seeking
a way

through shell;
a hammer's hit
won't do;
no will to consume
but rather
exhume
a soul

trapped within;
"wise as serpent,
gentle as dove,'
eyes, ears
with tender love,

sharp attention,
the Helper
winds, finds
​its way

to coo
and kick start
​a spark
​between two.

​
"Be wise as serpents, gentle as doves."
Matthew 10:16


"In the beginning,
God created the heavens and the earth. 
The earth was without form and void, 
and darkness was over the face of the deep. 
And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters."

- Genesis 1:1-2


​

Picture
Caste

Dalits, Blacks, Jews
all know
the suffering
doesn't
​stay below
but sickens
those "on top,"
who pull out all stops
to keep purity
"pollution" free
safe guard
heredity
scripture-led
sanctity
so deluded as to believe
we are free;

what happens to
someone who
bows down to
the who's who?
do they sleep at night?
awake in fright?
ever mend fences?
suffer eternal consequences?
conscience obliterated
day after day
by distractions,
injections
of confirmations
that entitlement
is heaven-sent;

the British crown,
declared divinity,
imprisoned a woman
in palatial penitentiary;
there she lived
a severed quark

puking in the dark
captured in caste
superiority
Diana!
goddess of childbirth
locked up, alone
to produce
two for the throne
once accomplished
went home
crushed bone;
cause?
supposedly a bad Mercedes
but really
from heart dis-ease.

Dutch Sisters
Corrie, Betsy Ten Boome
hid Jews
S. S. threw
father and the two
into Ravensbruck
watched Reich women
brutalize;
Betsy, under breath,
agonized,

"those poor women"
please realize
she spoke of the Germans,
not the Jews.
frozen souls lost
within the lie's noose
(Betsy therein died
Corrie survived and thrived
to tell her truth.)

Roger Ailes
Fox founder
​sex assailed,
"want to play with the boys?
gotta lay with the boys."
so women sucked
or got fucked,

men kissed ass
bought the razz ma tazz
as he raised Nixon,
Reagan,

Bush, and Trump,
to claim the mightiest tree stump
til Murdock him dethroned
locked out
removed his clout,
no longer reigned
in his high rise domain;
His name said it all,
Roger AILS.

this country,
birthed an economy
of kick-off-a-craving
commodities:
cotton,
sugar,
tobacco...
that to-this-day
​require slavery
minimum-wage
'bout seven twenty;
​
But "dominant"
lead
in suicides,
psych meds,
impotence in bed;
meaning-sapped lives
struggle
to make peace inside
with the great divide;

Let's rebirth society
in love that's steadfast,
the opposite of caste,
move towards a greater we
shared humanity,
​take care of those in poverty,
live for equality
not assessed in money
since the LORD
declared
"you will always have the poor"
so rather listen, seek
to meet the universal need
for love and human dignity.


"Caste" by Isabel Wilkerson inspired this piece.
.
Mistaken Identity

brilliant women
belt back
and forth,
"you bitch!!!”
brother watches,
boyfriends switch
feet, lean 
against Ford's door
engaged
by the flame
of match-hit-gas
rage;

the "good-looks"
commodity,
distributed unevenly
brewed
jealousy,
birthed enmity,
a tall-false tale
built on fear
of not-enough,
none-for-me,
who-will-ever-want-me?

people!
​we got to go

back
we're under attack

from downloaded
fabrications:
Mad-Madison ave 
machinations
;
craving-crop plantations
that bear witness 
to the mess
of spirits frayed,
communities decayed;

ancestors weep
for daughters
caught in this current
​curb-side heap
of insanity
see ​roots
in soul poverty:
"Lord,
deliver them,
protect them,
help them to see
their common adversary -
the thief
that's suppressed
child-of-God identity;
get them to heal,
believe what's real;
Lord, LORD,
no good comes
from this by-product,
of mistaken identity."  

***

Exiled

exiled
from Eden
by need
to GET OUT!
inner mandate
to separate
disconnect
defect,
can't stay
and SUFFOCATE
got to ESCAPE;
flee
from first home,
to mock,
​scoff
in the un - ease
til it could be
no more;
truth got through
in a liquor store
"that's killing me;"

had believed
family
men, city
to blame,
‘til
Pain
bore on that stiff neck
"I'm going to die
or live in this
train wreck!"

reborn
from that crash
in the 12-Step
path
a mud-born
lotus
connected with
something GOOD
without an "owe"
and so
she testifies
to a way home
to a one-day-at-a time
manna-ALTER
of God-consciousness;
with people,
Spirit siblings
with one another
yet alone
feeling,
​healing,
wild, exiled
to a new home.

​

Picture
Pearl

pearl is formed 
from sand irritation...
inner protection mechanism
lubricates the aggravation
germinates a jewel,
One
that matters most,
reflects Light
that neither begins
nor ends

shows a different way
to roll
​ through this world

each day unfurls 
a flow
"where do you want me to go?" 
"what do you want me to know?"
invisible, yet many lives
bear witness;
continue to seek 
its guidance,
abundance,
sacred emptiness,
singleness,
of the One
​pearl

and leave the rest.


"The Parable of the Pearl of Great Value
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls,
who, on finding one pearl of great value,
​went and sold all that he had and bought it."
Matthew 13:45-46



​
Spirit Friend, I Miss You!

I'm a sojourner, 
rolling, 
homesick
for a woman 
and her other-world

I now want to know;

I'm a dreamer
waiting, praying
for my friend to return
seeking to eliminate
the fear that drove her away
so long ago
huddled
with hands, covers
clasped
under chin

"go away!"
"go away!"
and she did
and my Spirit friend 
has not been back since;

when I go
deep within
to the inner dissolved dome,
there is a cramp
a clamp,
the closure
of a vault
that won't budge;
​
and she was the one
who asked me
to grasp, 
​to see
fearsome truth:
"Do you know infinity?" 



Picture
Bok Choy Moment

I live in a home I did not build,
sleep in a bed I did not construct,
gobble up greens I did not plant,
think with a mind I did not make. 

I reap all day what I do not sow:
warmth, comfort, food, home;
yet in the garden I somehow know
to leave that luminous bok choy alone
that someone else has lovingly sown.

​

​
Ronald: In Loving Memory

Homeless,
said "yes"
too tired to
"no,"
after sincere ones
insist

"live inside"'
from not-for-profit
determined to provide
but...
​40 years
living on streets
meant he
was positioned perfectly,
consistently miserable
but free,
with a deep allergy
to four walls
in section-8 sanctuary
so…
he died on the sidewalk
last Saturday;
flew away
rather than live
another way.

In loving memory of Ronald (Ronnie) Joe Smith
3/20/2021

​
Hold On!

is this pandemic
making me monastic?
a "nun with none"
anorexic?
meditation deep,
kittens sleep
in lap
"resist, retain, react
to no thought,
return
to the Word;"

am I zombified 
in a cathedral inside
or finding a way 
to a holy state?

something within's
pushing back
don't want to be
a spiritual quack
but do need
to be
surrendered 
vertically,
horizontally -
in the world
yet aligned to Thee
neither trapped,
​nor caged
by this inner see.


​

Picture
In Love with a Confederate

I fell in love
with a confederate soldier

dashing, energized by soul,
who donned  a  solid refusal
to un-puff his pride,
relished judgement,
didn't hide

delight in excess, prowess,
whiskey, women, homes, prestige
he seemed
rebellious, to be free
unchained from stiff society;

well known to me
his cruelty,
aggression,

stood fast
at center of attention

competitor,
money-maker,
a "man's man," he thrived 
on games wherein
the fittest survive;


I received an invitation
to conditional participation
based on certain stipulations
to fan, flatter vanity;
and oh how good it feels
to be in

the team that wins,
the crop's cream;
never mind those on the sidelines
disregard the castaways,
flying high above the rest,
be the king's protege!


Prisoners

in beautiful bones

encased
magnificent face
high class
and a great ass,
​pampered pet
asset signet;
wants
a woman
to attest
to him as best;

and she?
what’s going on
down under?
thunder?
a maelstrom
of rudderless wit
flits, flirts
deserts, dodges, skirts
responsibility
whipping out
winding in
needle-in-a-haystack pin
constantly controlling him,
cattle prod
of whim;

how can God take
this lovely-to-behold
daughter of wrath
and turn her
towards his path?
release her heart of flesh
from its steel mesh?
only divine Power
penetrates
the babble tower
extricates
these beauty queens
from behind the seen
the coveted construct
which too-often
​soul destructs.

​

Picture
Pep Talk

the LORD said,
"monastic life's
not for you
stay in and push up
your sleeves;
pray to know
the next step to transform
stiff-necked
bones and stones
to those
who hear flutes,
​feel tears,
dance to drums, cries,
ALIVE!
use money, talent, skill;
stay in
the messy thick of it
that's where you belong,
single in the mix
(not celibate)
with one holy purpose
to move through
WITH PEOPLE
 with me,
​in my energy!"




​
Prayer

Enlarge this tent, LORD,
push past the crust
of my selfishness
dissolve me into this very place;
pour out love where you
need it to go!
Only here am I positioned
only here will my love be known
as your hand,
as your love,
presence,
as the truth of who you are
and I am not;
don't let people be confused,
"Oh, thank you.
You are wonderful!"
let them jolt
let them wake up
​and experience
deep down the truth
of the Source.


"Enlarge the place of your tent
and let the curtains of your habitations
be stretched out:
do not hold back: lengthen your cords 
and strengthen your stakes."
- Isaiah 54:2


Picture
Sacred Friend

Sings
"happy little bluebirds fly
beyond the rainbow"
at the deli news machine
on Wilshire;
or doubles over
by the kitchen,
naked, laughing,
balls dangling
story telling
or cigar smoking,
alights fingers
into roasted nuts
coffee with creamer
(hazelnut),
sleeps face up,
sensitive snorer,
soft skin,
cell always rings
moving energy
from here to there,
realty, numbers king;
don't try to tame
or shame
or invade 
hands off everything
but listen,
love,
enjoy
​this Louisiana boy
who flows
goodness, echoes
mysteries
from the sky,
from ages gone by,
assumes it's truth,
"why oh why can't I?"


​Forget Me Not

I pray my heart
might be the way
someone hears our God today;
who has no lips,
no pad, no pen
so needs me to show up when
some person's lost
or ego-bound
needs to hear that they are found,
the One they seek,
(or have forgot),
designed us to "forget me not."


​

Picture
The Body

a dwelling
a tabernacle;
a breath,
mystical body;
close eyes,
move up from root
through this transient architecture

just within door
waits a sacrificial altar
attachments cremated

to the wash bowl, 
of  melted copper mirrors
cleanse after the blood letting, the burning;

enter food of truth
daily bread
surprised  by evidence of capacity to  hear

sparks a new heart,
of flesh, of rich black earth
Al-Kemi has happened

now prepared to  speak words
emerge from throat - as incense
diffusing new, good news

access to third eye sight
balance lest pride override
​when words do cause an affect 

culminating connection to Power
the Mercy Seat.
infinite forgiveness for inevitable humanity;

a dwelling
a tabernacle;
in constant pulse, process,
a  mystical body
close your eyes,
to move within
this infinite architecture




​
Natural Birth

when accidents happen
sickness is acute
some pray for life,
but expect death,

are surprised
by medical attention
that's not a hack job;
a "good doctor's"
 a friend

who softens hard blows
not a skilled craftsman
who knows

where or when to go or not go;

and who's to say
​that 's not better

all you seekers
of "the best medical care"?

stay out of my body!
let it heal itself
til it can no more
til whatever life force
tips to the exit door
and I'll thank my soul's bony home,
and hope
to keep very quiet

inwardly know
"I'm getting close,"
so no one says, "try this"
and takes away
my one shot at natural birth
out of this Earth. ​
​
Two Serpents

Once upon a time
were two serpents,
one wise,
one cruel
almost identical
though the latter's
skin had a few
dry, shiny patches .

one moved,
gentle as a dove
observing entry points
for the living God,
nudging beings
into light,
"Keep going,"
"I know what you mean,"
​"That's a false belief,"
"Look how new Power is showing up,"
"Keep giving it all to God;"

the other sometimes
struck wildly,
needed to be trampled
underfoot by lions
so great was its rage;
sometimes subtly
discreet
in undermining,
quiet delight
in showing
how full of shit
their "holy" was;
was tickled pink
by falls,
big and small,
"You fucked up,"
"See, you're the same, will never change,"
"You're insane,
still a fake."
”That’s your faith?”

The two wrapped
around one another
​for a fight,
each whispering
their beliefs,
power only manifested
in words

Can you call the fight?

​

Picture
photo of memorial for Portia Pollack on Dorgenois in New Orleans
On My Time

Time to go to work
but before moving
out the door
always look both ways;
check up and down the block
for murderers,
"Oh, here comes one now!
I'll wait til he passes...
okay, phew."
But I wasn't thinking like that
Tuesday morning
and he wanted my car;
no chance to use
my martial arts;

dying that day
was a surprise
to me and to loving neighbors
​who rushed to my side
while I
went down deep;
into magical
last life-long moments
where an ancient drum
beat steady rhythm,
elongated
remembrances
of friends, music, family
​til I let go,
​on my time.

In loving memory of Portia Pollack
​6/9/2021


​


No Defense

My baby's
in my bicycle basket;
stabbed this morning
and now at six
I'm arrested;
the flies attested
to passers-by
of my crime.
I knew
he couldn't survive;
thoughts came
to destroy
the new life before my eyes
and there was
no defense,
against
the hand that obeyed,
no defense
from
our God who saves;
living demons
led the way.

In loving memory of "Our Baby Boy"
​7/18/2021

Picture
​Savior

He saved my life,
Richard the poet.
Listened, heard, 
cared enough to approach
with nothing 
but a knowing
that it was my time
to surrender 
to let go 
or die in a lie
in overdrive 
to careen
crash
collide;
saw my INSIDE
a spark flared
cuz he CARED
​and was there
to carry a message 
of a way 
to the LIVING God
heart to heart
derailed 
and electrified
my mind
surprised

by joy
​of Presence

after Step Five.
​​​
Nicole

sky's slide
from dark
to deep lumen
over roofs;
open the shutters
witness the glow
we,
Blue and me,
look both ways
up down street
taught to feel energy
by Sammy Black Cat
wait for safe,
linger on porch;
there's a woman walking
​in the dark
"morning,
you happen to have
a cigarette?"
a familiar,
​couldn't-place-it voice...
remembered
about two Kools
in the freezer
"hold on"
and passed the frozen smoke
to the veiled-by-darkness
sidewalk stranger;
"thanks,"
a calm pause
"what's your name?"
"Nicole, don't I know you?
"maybe..."
we turned,
both went on our way
then in unison
"Hey!!"
the veil
was raised
and there we recognized
rejoiced,
she with her beer
and smoke,
me in my white pjs
sun coming up
at five forty five
feeling electric alive.
God choreographed
our reunion
no denying the Divine,
can't deny the Divine!

Nook and Cranny

​Let me make
one thing clear:
I SUFFER from
a spiritual sickness
that demands a solution;
back when,
the three b's:
​boys,
bulimia
the bottle,
provided the infusion
poured freedom, relief
into hot blood,
flushed out fear's
incapacitating crud;

But I don't drink
or think
like my sister:
the first one's in
I'm on to number two
before that first is close to through
casing for more,
out the door
and the morning's remorse
year after year voice
of shame, guilt, fear
doesn't keep me clear
still reach time after time
sell it all for a dime
with excuses
blank spots, justification
cuz my mind
has no fortification
from redoing
what's undoing
my tangled soul,
that's got a GOD-SHAPED HOLE;

but old ideas surround
that needed Higher Power
shy away from Holy Ground
church and state tower:
inner voice said,
"Baby, just lay your head
on that toilet lid
where vomited
bowed down
in filthy nooks and crannies
all over town
put your head there
and say a prayer
forget about the fancy stuff;
you need me cuz
staying sober is tough."

over time some truth's
found a way to win
become the shoes
I often walk in
​one day at at time,
cuz y'all showed me a way,
connect with the Divine
in you, in me
in ancestry;
it's here, there,
in every nook and cranny.


Picture
photo of a mural in Los Angeles at Sunset and Micheltorena
Dream

a blue whale
ran aground
huge nose
hit cement wall
of my community
a new responsibility
was necessary,
commitment
to be there
with them
not hide in my cozy pen
retreat to scriptures
or buttered toast
but rather
evidence the host
share the bread
live what is said;

Penny's angry,
Calvin's hurt
Tookie's sulking
Alvin's curt,
Ashley's O.D'd 
Yanni's loaded
Ben's broke
V  exploded;
​
so pay attention
to this spiritual dimension
cuz God brought
a blue whale,
a spouting pastor
vibration master,
to my dream
googled what it means
led to the role
Director assigned
in these torn-up
from the floor up
times,
ready to invite Him in,
be present
​for divine direction
led by a blue whale's
sonar detection.

Lawn Mower

Calvin's connection
runs deep
brought him to my window
all else asleep
but me
who loves to read
in early morn hours
that day
needing a resurrection
needing protection
we had a job to do
down the sidewalk
at Penny's corner
(it's her lawn mover)
who was mad as hornets
cuz Calvin borrowed
in advance
on the lawn cash;
the resentment meant
grass was tall
raggedy enough
to hide pints of alcohol;
Calvin didn't like that
pride pushed back;
paused Penny's kidney-pain
monologue
to pray:
"Father God" he said
while me and Ms. Penny
quick bowed our heads,
"guide us, free us,
let us know your will"
and the very situation
got rectification
right there on her porch;
Calvin will mow
the lawn again
without her oversight
lawn mower
​Spirit friend
got it just right.

​
The Disfigured Mother

children mocked
her scarred skin
called her spooky
a weird woman
ashamed I was 
til when older
child finally told her
of the teasing, sneering
cruel jeering;

"My child, 
when you were still a babe
your late father
went into a rage
lit up our home
to a fiery cage;
I rushed
midst flame and smoke, 
wrapped you in a blanket,
ran out the door 
my hair caught fire
but I didn't, couldn't stop
til we emerged 
on the sidewalk;
there I collapsed
was scooped away
while you cocooned
were completely safe.
the scars bear witness 
to my love for you,
and bond me
viscerally,
with another who
suffered for us, too;
so let them mock, tease, ridicule
for deep inside,
where I'm graced to live
my heart's healed,
with only love to give. 


This piece is derived from a story I heard that moved me but I can't find it or remember where I heard it. Please email me if you know where it comes from! 

 Third Step with Carley

beautiful child,
your face,
burdened by cares, 
spark lit
as we shared
a prayer
a decision to be living stones
used by God
to build
​
 a forgiven world.


Boundaries

 won't learn from you
won't eat your food
won't buy your goods
won't drink your booze.

leave me be
won't ingest your creed
won't congest my arteries
with the air you breathe.

boundaries!
blazing walls of fire
don't permit your entrance
cut y'off with barbed wire

​
Dream

way up
over ice-ripple-wave water
standing
in a something 
that felt
not there
and you behind
out of sight 
but I said,
"look out over the bridge
to the star blue night"
conscious of being
​high high high
and looked up
with courage
dizzy in Presence
of such majesty
way above
with water way below
where birds splashed - 
or were they people?
don't know
shifted my feet
to remember
the nothing I stood on
but assurance
"you are held"
and I relaxed
and beheld 
a sky skier
to the right
digging edges into ice.

​



Lord, Give me a Spine!

when I saw Ashley
yesterday
I knew nothing
was okay
raggedy cough
tiny shuffle-steps
black mini skin-tight dress
fuzzy black slippers
opaque wall eyes;
coming down
from that house
behind mine
where she goes
to smoke
and now
in five thirty five 
dark
spinning-round
red lights
arrive
in rhythmic pulse
throb
on patterned glass
installed to thwart
prying eyes
I ask myself why
didn't I interrupt
her stupor shuffle
with a hug,
saturate her with love,
speak to her heart,
bring her inside?
LORD!
Give me a spine
to speak love
and do right

in hard moments
as guided by you.
how's the world
​going to change

​if I don't stay awake!





​
Zoom 

put down her sewing
listened fully
felt her heart
through the screen
paying attention
to me
sensed
fears, heard
my need
to confess
how I'm so tired
of hating our people
of our capacity
for cruelty
with such innocence,
such "nice" people,
maintain the Caste;
let me go under for a while,
leave behind
consciousness
fall asleep
to the lullaby
rock a bye
of good sincere
intentions;
but her loving
transcended all that
inner unrest;
my sister,
once
so rejected
now here
she hears
leans in, doesn't correct
or chastise
or try
to fix
just a gift of loving eyes
that I will get to see
the rest of my life
whether lonely
or plagued,
whenever big feelings,
​insanity, come my way.
Picture
Eni's Final Blessing

buried in blankets
brown, wise
95-year
child eyes
rise
from sofa
soft-cupped hand
hovers
sacred word
murmurs
over my chest
drifts from left
​to right
down to belly
up to throat
to give
a final blessing
echoed
over chicos
nightly
family, friends,
weekdays, weekends,
hearts
welcome
hands
that warmed more
than a million
tortillas
with her love

wise
and gentle ​as a dove
soon to pass
through by the Hand
of God’s love.
.
Clean 

Penny fist-bams
my door
furious
about lawnmower
I feel no fear
in her rage
though
she is yelling
 in my face;
she's clean 
pissed
no residue
no sloppy glue
sticking me
to some
​ancient stew.

In Loving Memory of Penny Vaughn
​10/23/2121
Leaves

time
like leaves
is designed,
a fluid stage
for roles to play
created
in love
by the Divine
Choreographer
Composer
who conceives 
where and when
she enters
where and when
she leaves.
Rubies

today
he confessed 
his true love,
Ruby, 
connected
to the Lord
by a chord,

a mother who knew
the Job  pattern
fit her child,
a wild
spirit
who climbed high

who'd thrive 
then crash dive
and emerge
once more to 
more than survive,


years ago
a messenger

saved
​a brown man's life
he had a wife,
Ruby 
and she, too, 
spoke
and through her
an L.A. Mexican
excavated 
the entirety
of a Mayan king
with dignity
a profile
buried beneath
the culture crushing
cathedral
​built on Tenochtitlan.


two raw Rubies 
uncut gems
​who lit lives
of these beloved men
the kind of
deep-red love
that ignites liberty
​permanently.
​

Picture
Time to Sleep

wash feet
at evening
to release
the day
from soles;
head to toe
outflow
worries,
fear, pride,
through pores
micro-doors
what entered
from streets,
emotion's heat,
let go the holy
unholy
​ ground
that attached
​to burden
Spirit down.

Jubilee

Yesterday,
the whole country
was diagnosed ADHD
by God Almighty
and mandated treatment
so every web site
was deleted
the TV's
computer screens
collected
in the street
and someone screamed,
"a rose is blooming over here!!!"
Oh my God!!!"
and everyone ran
and gave a loud cheer,
"Yeah God!!!!"
the billionaires
​shared
showered
everybody with stuff and money
precious gems, metals, ores
were all returned
​ to Africa
presidents, ambassadors
doubled over
laughing
bus boys got to drive
the Maseratis,
cashiers ate caviar
drank champagne
for free
all debt eliminated
all dogs unleashed,
and the debutante
got to taste, really taste
Mama's beans
and feel see
​the beauty of that rose
in her bones,
in her toes.
Easy Go

I have a mind
that chops down trees
in a milli second
decrees
"no utility!!"
or negates
shade
 tree's capacity
to convert
CO2 as
oxygen,
hold soil and
cool community
give sanctuary
to squirrels, birds,
​bugs, bees;

mind takes a precise path;

first it doubts
"no one would miss that tree."
"what good does it do, really??"

then it denies
"this community would be better
without me!!!”
"too dominating, a show off!"
​
then it dies
as chainsaw hits
does its
duty
turns to dust;

what took 38 years to grow
easily goes.


Leggings

poison man
released
finally
but cold weather
returned
late Octo-burrr
"Where
are those
wonderful warm
leggings?"
sought high
sought low
realized
they perhaps hide
where poison resides...
text to check
comes reply
"Yes"
and phone floods
with cries:
"come home!"
shudder soul
for once more
venom's at the door
that's destroyed
everything
worthwhile in life before.
God, guide the release
of those leggings
to know,
you provide
warmth,
protection,
when we abide
under your direction,
on your side
as poison
stealthily, persistently seeks
cunning ways
to get inside.


Seer

 lotsa-money man
shape shifts
energy
​dons disguise
to be
invisible
in lush hotel
he frequents;
but cleaning lady 
casually asks
"where you been?"
she'd always seen
his real -
not the maitre d
or fancy folks 
or friends,
the One
who recognized
without bling,
​trappings
​of a king,
had open-heart eyes.
. 

In Time

the dancer
was STUCK;

with a partner,
a thorn
in her mind

hijacked capacity
for presence

with promise
of rhyme;
each time
she said, "no more"

something supernatural
yelled,
"don't leave the floor!"

slowly learned
to let go
realize
from all sides
her need for control
before able to be
with someone so free
a man
unwilling to surrender
to be
dictated steps
she couldn't see
had been programmed
into her feet;
over the years
a need for four four
gave way
to release
where next moves
reveal
a shifting groove
to a man
and woman
the unpredictable
but playful ​beat
of divine choreography.

​
Never Alone

I need this poem
to send to those,
like me at times,
who feel alone,
disconnected
from the sublime
Presence
of the Divine
to wake
us back up
to truth of the unseen
the poetry
of essence
not easy to believe
that what is beyond our view
is the way greater Reality

Joe

Read your letter
just now
and want to say
thank you
for being the best
you could be
for yourself
for us
for community.
Had come home
from church
grocery run
laying on the sofa
with Zora, the cat
and saw the headlines.
Hit me hard
but no one 
would have known
​looking in the window.

Poems 2017 - 2020
  • Alma Turner
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