Friday, January 20, 2012

O and i will lie down in the creek bed, grateful. weeping. i'll gamble my soul for more water.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Venus conjuncts Pluto in Capricorn



Last night I dreamed I rode a child’s red bike up a suburban street where I came upon your
home.
The facade was faced in stone flanked by bright green walls the color of pistachio ice cream,
the entry was made of old redwood and there was a small bench with shoes nearby, a mat, a potted plant , leaded glass in the door.
 I did not ride by closely as I feared I would see you there.
 I would have to face you     see you     face your face again.

Several nights before this I dreamed we made love inside an oak tree
covered in shimmer( us ) as if we suddenly became moonlight.
            Three years have passed now come and gone . I had not dreamed of you in nearly a  year
        then
            here
                you 
                   are.
  this doorway
 that shimmering 
 your memory

 now
 all the  healing and moving forward has fallen behind
 I feel like I have to start over again
 find new pujas new trails/cells/language/ seed pod/ new skin and bone.

To have to continue to be this quiet about it all grows callous and impossible in my hands
my exiled heart longs for the dreaming
my blood craves new marrow my heart,  new meat&
salt.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Friday, July 29, 2011

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Friday, May 27, 2011

Friday, March 25, 2011

Venus conjuncts Neptune

You will never know how many times I called out to you baby in this deluge
I  did a beat  down  in the watershed
 I
 among the lichen 

 did puja    

 sustenance


           symbiosis

I  wrote your name on a piece of wakame I foraged from the San Andreas fault just before she breaks  open

I make shoes of wild nori

 I drink the tide and the seafoam as if it were a fine stout

 I will never stop loving no I never will  foolish as that may seem.

If we make our hearts hard against those who loved us we will die a dry abandoned cardboard  box  empty  &   ungrateful

How about these tides  
      ?   


      how about the birds now    quiet    as Spring arrives drowned in despair and astonishment .


  River. Swollen. Crested.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Friday, February 18, 2011

this leo moon illuminating a hard frost & softened heart

                                          

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Chiron Enters Pisces




How will I ever settle down with the creek bed dry as a bone in February the
last gasp of

 trickle&splash.

 The river green and still as emeralds?

The winds arrive as if to ignite some ancient old bloody cut, you know, the one that never healed, you know, the one that festered for years, infected, pestered, itched.
 I would soothe myself in the falling water of the creek  
 filling it’s crevices and tangle of rotted oak and squirrel bones with my grandmother’s jewels and the discarded feathers of  Raven.

I offer this watershed my tenderness&wishful thinking 

  a   garland    of    carnelian      a    garland    of    sandalwood    beads 

  those waxy bags filled with opium poppy seeds that bloom the color of my blood and the 
  regal    purple    of    my    lineage. 

The winds arrive cranky and determined more fierce than my heart can bear
 more tenacious
    than   my    sorrow.

 True, 
 they will win our ongoing argument this time.

 True,
 I will run back to that burned out faery stand deep in the canyon.

 True ,
 there may be no water now.

Friday, January 14, 2011

venus in sagittarius



On each one of my fingertips I hold a lyric.

You.

You. 


 my Tempest,
 my Hell on earth,
 my Pomegranate,


my Popscicle. yep. my Lollipop. You know about this.

I saw the Raven pair capture Finch eggs and fly North.

I now realize that all life , Dies.

You, my Compost.  My mycelium. My Detritus. White Boy.

There now, quiet. 

There will be a sparking, the water will recede. ( i promise.)

Rosie and I took 14 Alder sticks, wrapped an Old Growth Redwood Stump
In SpanishMoss and wove in the flotsam and jetson of slash.
I took my veins and filled them with creek water. yup.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Dang it's a hot night.

 Cricket.

 A dog barking from way down in the canyon.    Sea swell.    Owl shrill.   

 This hilltop, redolent of ganja plant, Venus retrograding ready to back off and let the men figure it out. 

Fox pups conversing with the night. Autumn in Mendocino.


Sunday, September 12, 2010

Feather







There was this thing that happened.

Life took off my flesh my meat my blood my nerves my filament
        moss&lichen replace marrow
                    being awake replaces being taken.


50 ravens.

 Throwing up my/wings/ arms.
 Astonished.

             Bats.

 flippy floppy swishy swooshy I’ll never forget those things that happened
 the difference between deep green and black is now
 the difference between watershed&vein. 

  You.

               Never.

 Coming.

  Going.

   No.Yes.Maybe.

  
                 Never


hymn,

           not  now. not 

                  ever.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

ode to margaret goldsmith

Intrinsic coolness.

 The very tiny tips of maple leaf  caught    on    fire.

Flame

Cliff dwelling dashed for mountain top

Sunset dashed for the sea          the color of a pearl 
you know what ?


 I  once thought I knew everything or at least something
 anything
 but     now       no         now
 life
 bears
 haphazard
 fruit 
 figs
 the color of persimmons


 offspring disguised as birds of prey.

this.

The upanishads become oracle&salt becomes blood  here this here.look.

“”When people depart from this world, it is to the moon that they all go. By means of their life breaths the moon swells up in the fortnight of waxing, and through the fortnight of waning it propels them to new birth. Now, the moon is the door to the heavenly world. It allows those who answer its question to pass. As to those who do not answer its question, after they have become rain, it rains them down here on earth, where they are born again in these various conditions — as a worm, an insect, a fish, a bird, a lion, a boar, a rhinoceros, a tiger, a man, or some other creature — each in accordance with his actions and his knowledge.” — Kausitaki Upanishad

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Riverview Apogee















  
Do you remember how the trail that switchbacked up to the quartz mine seemed to have gone on for miles                               didn't it ?
 Then        like an explosion   !Kablooey!    a quarry 
of gilded and luminescent stone about faced us as if it were a temple.

 Golden alder leaves shimmy like sequins on the dress of a Parisian chanteuse.
  We danced to the songs of
                        Fortuny
                              Lao Tzu    Black Elk   &the Pixies
                        Acropolis        Eames          Gaudi
                        Stonehenge          Chartres          Altamira
                                        Vortex           Filament            lysergic
                                             Bride descending the Staircase     fragment/broken glass
                        Psychokiller.

 Black mica shards cut through my sandals. 
 I crush the quartz in my teeth as if it were ice. 
I once trusted the whiteness (&the wilderness) but now know that darkness was there, wasn’t it?
           Not in the mica but in the caverns of glistening rock.

My heart    was  tender    as    a mountain peak.
 Your's was an alder staff gliding along the river like an otter foraging for salmon.

 I  have replaced my blood with the green of reflected pools and sink holes.
 My hair has grown mossy and wicked.

 You'll live happily ever after now
 as I remain here
 on this hilltop
 you
 once
 hung 
your hat on.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Saturn enters Libra

 Rolled up all tight like that at the foot of Ana Purna,
Saturn throws his outer rings like a ring toss game at a carnival up
 and over the summit.

           me ?   a cup half full&

 A sow bug armored in grey ribbed shell,
 chanting a Soul Coughing tune over and over again like a mantra.

 Translating the Tibetan Book of the Dead into Arabic.
  Covering my eyes with a pillow of mist .
  Traveling this last path as I grab handlfuls of huckleberries off tender limbs.
  I set the bar to match 14 thousand feet where peak meets heaven where 
  the finest gasses of atmosphere shift
  and change into soulfulness. 

Chanting down Babylon&
 rocking back &
      forth
 the pingy pangy sound of the tap of my foot 
against the glass door that separates us
 from our fate.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Thursday, July 8, 2010

The song the fogbank sang to me

         I drive to town today in torn  brown   sweatpants    covered
 in chicken manure&olive oil
listening to Peter Case and a fierce banjo

chewing the ganja hash from my fingernails
astonished that my creeks are still flowing water

repentant for all the sins and aberration inflicted by my flawed crappy dreams and ideals
chewing the fat from my guilt&self doubt

chewing the finally I am getting pissed finally from my fingernails  but it's that plaintive&
plucky tune that made me stop by the side of a road to photograph a crumpled up paper bag lying on the broken yellow line of highway one.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Sunday, July 4, 2010