echoes

this voice within that becomes an omniscient vision;
no different than yours also part of my mission.
from the corners of a round earth,  in mid heaven, the seven seas...
every blade of grass, the dirt, the air breathed through the leaves...
many of us have these professed sentient guardians in our midst, 
but foolish are those to think it is a love triangle or personal tryst.
if I do, mine are not from princes charming or romancing;
for thine stings with sharp tongue, and dreams are stopped from advancing.
they still my heart, yank me close to hear clear, so I make no mistake -
know that I am small but what they demand is great.
they command with eternal thunder, echoes so loud;
do this work humbly, dear child, we keep watch, dare not be proud.
but unlike for you, sweet child, it does no matter what I need,
they simply turn the other cheek each time I die to lead.

earn

every word I say or write,

I stand by until I die.
I will not go down without a fight;
long since was taken back the night.
often said, as done best, do- not try.
my love, no one will I deny.
ears to hear and eyes to see,
but what good will they be-
if an ignorant and intolerant mind,
renders them deaf and blind.
throwing money one ne'er themselves earn;
falsehoods hidden will come to the light and burn.
you condemn your friends and judge as prostitutes and thieves,
but they will all go before yours, the idle rich, like these...
fledgling campaigns patronage to convenient lives,
the fool's research to push the swan dives.
some born reluctant, wounded healed, are best to lead;
those most resistant to follow, should perhaps take heed.
I remember the silent fight;
every word I said that night,
I upheld until I died.
    

echo blush

it began in the brush
felt like a hand's touch
across my legs my hips
and the pine nestled
as a kiss on my lips

some mud came through
was a comfort... cool
soft on a hot day
I blushed, what a fool

wet wood, a chain to rust
will one day turn to dust
I will, I can, must I again... trust

then, smell his skin
from the dream, thin
my gift box tin

all through till dusk
stayed, carried the wind
sweet like the tree moss musk

descend to ascend;
ever true, lied to,
on the mend-
witness to my demise
I rise.
      
though eyes plucked
still believe in kind
blood dried
in hands blind...
time needs time.
trine divine.
      
though a distance-
my sight,
still steady, fine.
honeysuckle twine,
in the pine brush,
cool mud, hot sun.
echo blush.
   
to the sea
went the last
undeserv'd tear.
near or far.
the star, the star,
I see the star.
I know who we are.
   
hush, hush... whisper!
echo blush
don't make a sound.
LISTEN near the ground.
 
echo blush,
I felt the touch,
a stone by the sand,
of my own- land.
   
land, leap, run...
stop, wait.   hesistate.
a moment. breathe,  in
out. stall. recreate.
All.
   
descend to ascend.
on the mend.
but in my eyes
the trees give and bend...
   
hush, hush... whisper!
echo blush
don't make a sound.
LISTEN    near the ground.
   
like that day in the brush...
I felt the touch,
like your hand
in the sand,
a stone, a love...
of my own.
   
that night remains
a few hours, smiles and no games
only a memory kept
 
hush, hush... whisper!
echo blush
don't make a sound.
LISTEN near the ground.

pay attention
to what we have heard...
bound
unbound
they do make a sound.


February 2011                                
                

      
      

    

  

shepherd

this herding is lonely 

this herding is only 

a passing of time

keeping us in line

heeding a warning
showing us that time
is freezing but turning
needing and burning

the herd heard 

while in the herding...

a blessing a burden

oh shepherd O fellow shepherd

you are always disturbing

my inconsequential wording

I am never unnerving

you and your life

oh, oh- so perfectly deserving

I guess I am not so

blessed and in grace returning

I'm drowning- cold water is warming

am I not heeding your warning
keep needing and burning

the herd heard 

while in the herding...

a blessing a burden
oh shepherd, O fellow shepherd
keep longing your disarming
kept fawning, the bleeding alarming

am I never unnerving

you and your life

so oh, oh perfectly deserving

am I not so- so very so

blessed and in grace returning

                

friend

found again in that recurrent friend zone unrequited,
broken by master zen with karmic laws charged and indicted.
hearts diss-missed between pole and pulpit, there is no cure,
until strange love fades, we laugh and smile through a tear to endure.
but if such sentiment was met as fair trade and well felt returned-
no need to be seen as a shameful wretch to be spurned.

 

trick

I think I may, I think I might,
Have seen some things that need made right.
If what I saw, I'd love to say...
Would you return and help this day?
I know clearly of those I saw in other times...
But will you dare speak of the memories in this rhyme?
For I can not tell, 'tis not clear to see,
If my mind plays tricks, or if you play tricks on me.

no doubt

‎I doubt we will ever see a timeless man,
selling wares from a caravan...
or in a circus - cruelty condone,
to make a talk show chair his throne...

sharing greatest hits on mount,
sermons serviced will surmount;
investing by behest will he,
return the pulpit to the people for free.

last night a woman from Tibet,
said be assured, on this you can bet-
in his basket there was none,
we need no money nor a gun.

before his time again come and gone,
we shall rest, together All as One.