Poems Early 2021
(click on a poem's title)
​
​​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


​
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 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.

​
Pearl

the  poor in spirit 
are blessed
for
they find 
the pearl formed 
from irritation
 protection mechanism
lubricates the aggravation
germinates a jewel,
One peal
that matters most,
shines 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?" 
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 fab bok choy alone
that someone else has lovingly sown.

​

​
Ronald: In Loving Memory

Homeless,
said "yes"
too tired to
"no,"
after verbal flow,
of "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.


​
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.

​
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
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."


​
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
and fast 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
​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;
once, 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.