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October 7, 2006 - A poem about Nature, Belief

The Strength is Mine

By ushered dawn
I’ll whisper long,
By winds since gone
I’ll sigh.

By fountains bold
I’ll summon hold,
By ancient song
I’ll try.

By stars above
I’ll call on love,
By mountains tall
I’ll cry;

By limbs of oak,
By none things spoke,
By thread of Nature’s cloak,
I now invoke.

Much more,
Than I.


September 30, 2005 - A poem about Cosmicity, Belief


is this thing -
this commune of souls
we now join?
Like calm weirpool’s rest
after spin of current
washing names
from stones.
You have entered me
and I have entered you
and we are one -
beneath the wind,
beneath the river kiss,
beneath even clefted earth.
And still we ask.


July 4, 2005 - A poem about Belief

Y o u Never See Backstage.

Who holds the ropes
That tug the pulleyed sky?
Who drapes the blinds of night
O’er blinking lamp of day?
They, with black-out eventide,
Down cross dusked light,
Bringing scene-changed actors back;
To curtain call of spotlight moon.
Much more than stagehand turnaround,
More than cued-up interlude,
More indeed than men can comprehend.
Who masterminds this sunset show?
This finely tuned performances -
Before a thousand billion heartfelt bows
I need to tell them how I feel,
Who are they? Do you know?


June 25, 2005 - A poem about Art, Belief


Does a flame know when it burns?
Or of its brethren’s fellow toil?
All burn bright because they must
And all of this is down to trust.
Is this faith, or faith in destiny?
No call to idols and unproved deities,
Who comprehend these things that vex
Apart from Artist’s charcoal scratch.


May 15, 2005 - A poem about Belief


Older than I’ll ever be
and wider than the stars
wiser than desires of ours
boulder to the grains of we.


March 15, 2005 - A poem about Belief


My head is a palace of song
Where sleepy kings and families
Do lie and wait for melodies
That raise the slumbered heart
And teach the dance of life itself.
My head is a golden opera
Where Divas sing of passion
Of life’s regret and tragedy
And grand style dramas played
To dressed coat balconies.
My head is a cathederal cave,
Explored by none but bats and stalagtites,
And darkened echoes that call for me
To strike a match and read scribblings
Of singers and songs, of dances over flame.
I hear this music, but wait …
For stone ochred harmony in the night,
For feeling wind sighing against the walls,
For determined tone through maze of souls.
All resolved in lone-voiced melody, arpeggio blown
Into the nothingness - singular, beautiful, pure.
I am waiting for god’s wistful call.


January 19, 2005 - A poem about Belief


Tell me how
to make the leap,
the hop from here
to where I want to be.
Show me how
to arc my thoughts
to someplace

Help me
scale the hurdles,
jump the fences,
cut the bindings -
banish gravity!
And I promise,
I’ll move closer
to the island
that is


January 12, 2005 - A poem about Belief, Lyrics

Plastic Mantra.

Goddamn freaks!
What gives them the right
to be more enlightened than me?
I’ve paid my dues to humble servitude
and non-dyed collar platitudes.
Their cheesecloth talk and cosmic hop
is mere thrift sale Buddhist eclectic fop.
Arrrrrgh! Such positivism drives me crazy!
Through bleary nights and an empty glass
That’s where you’ll find the promised way
From bar-stool muse to sucker fool blues
In one queasy step - right foot tripping left
Through the urinated alley that is life.
It IS easy - just stumble over here,
and buy another beer.


November 29, 2004 - A poem about Belief

Mountain Rivals.

The Buddha and the Banjo
stand at the foot of a hill
and Banjo says; “I’ll race you” -
so Buddha nods; “You will”
With this the banjo frails
some pattern rolls into the air -
racing Buddha’s wind to mountain top
when he is already there.


October 11, 2004 - A poem about Belief


May your god walk with you
as you step through truth unknown
with outstretched arms that mark the hours
towards the growth along your way.
A choice of faith, of credo hewed -
grown from seed that you alone have sown,
the seasoned fruit you now devour,
strong-rooted deep in cold loam and clay.
See the branches growing tall and true?
Parade their fertile climb above the stones,
show your harvest and its wondrous power,
to those who reap not beauty from the day.


August 17, 2004 - A poem about Belief

Where You Left Them

I believe,
we are made of keys;
for locks that interlock.
The more I can open,
the closer we will get.

Arggggh! I’m always losing them.


June 2, 2004 - A poem about Belief

Uneven Surface

If life is like a table
then its legs are self belief.
We balance what we are able
from falling underneath.
Sometimes stacked and tidy,
othertimes just a heap,
to keep our substance stable,
is our primary relief.
This platform that we care for,
on plinths of warp and creep;
life’s every level moment,
its achievements all too brief.