Mentor

There was a mentor,

influence felt, not heard,

who listened to the lilt of the word,

just receiving. 

No degrees had he,

but a knowing of a kind

that can take words

or leave them,

burn through them

or seize them,

with reckless precision

of mind. 

Though he go a-seeking

new verse to till,

"mentor" he will remain

still.

Mind to Mind

A friend of the mind --

a different kind --

refreshing as a breeze

which deftly sweeps debris aside

and gives truth room to breathe.

Like a Donkey

There is a common dialogue
protocol
guaranteed to maintain
social locks and doors,
and she follows it --
like a bemused donkey
trailing its master --
careful to skim only the surface
and barely rattle the doorknobs . . .
for the code is very particular
about what not to touch.
Perhaps this is why
so many conversations
leaving her pining
for a dilapidated barn
smelling frankly of
hay and manure.

Author, Found

Perhaps you will read me at coffee cup's bottom

or on the print of an old tin can

Perhaps you will read me in the daily news

or in tales of a foreign land

Perhaps you will read me in Rachmaninoff's

visceral sounds swirling 'round your head

engulfing you in feelings

you'd long given up for dead

Perhaps you will read me only

when my poetry is done

and packed away in dusty trunk

'neath window's setting sun.

Counterpoint

Hunched shoulders, a shrug,

restless, skittering eyes,

a nod, a glance,

poorly hidden surprise;

rising voice, taut fingers,

gestures young in the older,

head forward, ram-style,

stance dismissive, eyes colder:

The language of movement

often opposing the word,

betraying the tenor

of messages unheard.

When the silence, full,

wishes to speak,

the poet listens.

Nameless

Body still bewildered

after all these years,

tissues thick

with unshed tears,

the swollen salts

of pain. 

Cells,

frantic and depleted,

thrashing off-course,

old pathways

steamrolled: 

High adrenalin,

in its wake,

leaving some cells

flattened

while scrambling the codes

of others,
replacing person
with nameless anguish. 

Comfort,

an unsolved

mystery.

Higher Logic

Instinct rushes to identify

trouble brewing on the sly.

Pedantic reasoning has the fate

of often being much too late.

Thoughts During an October Illness

In the breathtaking 

sunlight

(so beautiful!)

approaching noon,

eyes cringing from the

brightness,

ears buzzing softly,

head in a misty daze . . .

I had the fervent desire

to cry.

********************************************************

 

Sometimes,

it's just games.

Even a smile 

can lie,

when there is no 

real warmth

behind it.

Sometimes,

for the sake of honesty,

we would do much better

to frown.

*********************************************************

If you have one person

who really cares about you,

consider yourself

rich,

because many people find

caring

to be a burden.

I don't know why.

*****************************************************************

Eyes stiff,
vision wobbly,
inflamed brain nearly pounding out of my skull,
I finally gave up writing
to watch an idiosyncratic romance,
laughing my head off
like a crazy person . . . . .
Maybe tonight I'll watch
the Weather Channel.

Look Alive

Left to rot in a deserted garden

of walls and dank silence,

some benumbed part of spirit

still languishes there,

unable to rise,

too weak,

too deathly tired

even to look up.
Onlookers,
never noticing the void,
smile and wave.

Of Tunnels and Walls

"Today" is like an enigmatic tunnel,

bright and without visible walls,

giving the illusion of

an unobstructed view;

meanwhile,

numerous peripherals
drawn in yesterday's colors

hide behind shadows

that I cannot see,

elusive bricks 

of a forbidding wall

as dense as it is

invisible.

Who can see, after all,

that which one has

forgotten?

Shades of Person

Shades of person

rushing in,

slipping out,

causing a din.

Shades of person

sharing space,

nature torn

behind one face.

Shades of person,

sisters and brothers,

joint knowledge of some things

and not of others.

Shades of person

plus one empty shell:

Guardian only,

but who could tell?

At Bay

The fissure is felt daily

as I move from hour to hour,

an opaqueness in back references

over which I have no power,

a blank between the shorelines

of the old life and the new,

stretching forth to hold at bay

cogent links between the two.

Memory plays hide-and-seek

with signposts abruptly showing

then vanishing all over again --

stashed away beyond my knowing.

Islands

Fragments of a common source,

islands of awareness --

one near,

one far;

one mine,

one not mine . . .

perhaps hers.

And poetry

won't explain her --

she, who, like a spooked horse,

was stopped dead in her tracks
and remains there,
frozen.

The Death of Curiousity

People often see bits and pieces of something in a person, hear bits and pieces of something from a person, and walk away with just those bits and pieces.

The amazing thing is how often this is accepted as truly "knowing" somebody.

Imprint

Once you've read a passage
of truth in a face,

that page stays inside you;

you won't lose your place. 

Alternative View

Hives here, hives there, hives everywhere,

running rampant through my days,

new cycle of reactions

spinning wildly through the maze,

that maze of thought and feeling

newly awakened -- present and past;

strange sensations, new formations

of realities meeting at last.

How, though, to stop the itching --

heightened awareness "under the skin?"

Perhaps the answer's not "out there" --

perhaps I'll look within.

The Seeing

When you find yourself

in blinding pain

and you're all choked up

so you can't explain,

let them think what they will,

let them judge you all wrong --

the ones who care

will see you're not strong.

They'll look back and look hard, 

they'll ask and check twice,

they'll glimpse the tears

behind the ice. 

Thank God for those

who pause to care,

thank God they ask,

thank God they're there.

Greatness of Mind

Truth, not dependent upon intelligence, is a free gift available to every human being.  The measure of a truly great mind is its ability to appreciate, with respect and humility, truth as it is revealed by minds of all shapes and sizes.

Time's Due

Perspective change --

and thoughts cost more,

less able to flit

here and there as before.

More leaden, more fixed,

more concentrated pain,

less able to distract

for momentary gain.

More weighty, more real,

non-negotiable views,

with a strong aversion to

frivolous news.

Get to the bottom line --

don't waste time.

The long, crooked route

is a spiritual crime.