Showing posts from December, 2013

"Eating Freedom," with art by Doug Minkler

Your most basic process
that you may still control
when all other choices
get taken from you, pulled
off like skin or voice, is

picking up the morsel,
putting it in your mouth.
Chew, chew, chew and swallow.
You are hungry. Outside
of that fact, your actions

are yours. Maybe. Without
that freedom, what are you?
A can with two snout holes
gasping for some human
prayer of peace within hell.

We trust our wills to be
sacred, but check YouTube.

"All adds up," illustrated by Dianne Romaine

Now hear how musicians transcend maya
(or the illusions of self we each have).
Orchestras synthesize trembling mana,
and honey rises from the nascent hive.
Harmony is the honey of many.

To fuse in unison so as to live—
then to lose oneself—that’s life’s best honey.
Your strings ooze into the communal line
of woven sweet. Then the whole great world hones
its taste on this one music. It’s zany

how the swarm of cells inside a bee’s bones,
and the million details that make a home—
plus all your memories dumped from boxes—
don’t make a mess. A clear lyric has come—
chaos looping and closing in a link,

that fits into a geometric comb
in the sweet, cellular, symphonic womb.

Check out my experimental rhyme scheme based on "Word Golf."

"Hold fast, hold fast," illustrated by Tony Millionaire

How can I save the pieces
when more pieces keep falling
off? Times like these, I’m a sea-
eaten clipper in a squall.
Hatten down the batches! Please,

sea, see me to safe landfall.
Ropes and rivets rattle, drop
off to dissolve on the calm
floor. Why shouldn’t this whole ship
of self descend into peace?

Then all my pieces could sleep
where they rest, in one black bed
where slow, deep monsters would keep
me together, finally rid
of this wearing need to sail…

Yet when the ocean goes dead,
I don’t look down, but ahead.