From NOEBIE.net
The poems and lyrics included here have been written in the 21st Century. They are presented without context or unifying theme, other than my own halting pen, eclectic interests and prodigal nature.
Many, though by no means all, of them were written using Burroughs' cut-up technique, which is one of my favorite tools for getting my ego out of the way of the creative energy.
With Three Breaths
We rouse the Energy
and prime
its pathway
With Fourteen Breaths
We charge the pathway
and center the Energy
in an
upward flow
With Four Breaths More
We see the Light
We hear the
sacred
ॐ
Breathless
We learn to become
clear
awake
and free
I don’t know how
long the prayer
flags were down
before
we noticed.
Kid spotted them first.
What’s up with our flags?
I checked the calendar
for inauspicious
days for Lung Ta
before heading out back to reconnoiter.
The cord
was broken
or cut
on both ends.
Left a little noose
or loop
around the Maple’s branch to the west.
Left the first flag
– a yellow one –
to the east.
The rest of it
yellow blue white red green jumbles from Nepal
was strewn all about
the scratchy branches of an invasive bush
and wrapped around
the gentle old evergreen’s trunk.
Beyond my ken to repair.
I gathered the whole mess up
and offered it, carefully, respectfully, deliberately, ceremoniously
to the fire pit
on the patio
to rest ‘til spring
when the smoke
can carry our prayers.
Don’t Walk | Walk: And Other Poems About Pretending to Sleep and Waking Up
Many years ago when I began writing for a living, I told my wife that I thought I would publish a book some day. Her response was to ask “Will this be an actual printed book, or one of those bullshit website things?”
Thanks to the revolution in self-publishing tools since then, it turns out to be an actual printed book.
I looked at several options for publication, and although I have reservations about Amazon, their KDP platform fit best with my goals for the project. I wanted wide distribution and low out of pocket costs to publish, but (most importantly) I wanted to be able to control the overall look of the finished product – in particular the fonts, and the layouts of the poems on the page.
The book is now available at this link.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DRZJDMTC
These poems were written over the course of several decades, and capture some of my journey from a failing marriage to building a life with my true love, from deep cynicism to the first hints of spiritual awakening.
Should you decide to read it, I hope that you find something of interest.
It’s a feeling
not quite like depression
not quite like longing
not quite like nostalgia
Not lethargy
nor anxiety
nor wistfulness
Quiet
Still
Distant
Neither pleasant nor
especially unpleasant
Anticipation
Anticipating
Oblivion
Is there any more yet to do?
It may seem as though we’ve advanced
We bring all of life’s
big rich pageant
to our
little screens
But some days I feel like
we’re all just
watching ourselves burn
on
YouTube
Urchin girl walks
with dog
Sun drenched boys
warm up and stretch
resolute
dutiful
on the wet sand
Big round muscular
bottoms
paddle to the
lineup
Set as thumbnails
to draw
your click
Wave after
Wave after
Wave
What if I were to
only follow poets
How would that set
things spinning
Do they make an algorithm
for the soul
Would I miss the
Wall Street Journal
Finding it somewhat
easier not to fly
into rage when the dog
soils in the kitchen
or circles endlessly
evenings in the yard
This is at least something
Ninety-Nine and Forty-Four
While planting garden, very few will opt
To set aside space for a weedy spot
We till and tidy to keep the weeds out
Leaving greens and cascades of color popped
A stagnant pool into which leaves have dropped
Becomes a stinking brew of filth and rot
A consciousness into which anger’s brought
Becomes a life from which love’s flow is stopped
To seek the undiluted truth today
To focus without distraction on AUM
Welcoming beauty, calm and all good gifts
In unadulterated purity
Attention ever inward flowing on
Thought, word and deed aligned, and naught amiss
Everything Comes and Goes Except the Truth
The rich young man asked what else he need do
To which the Master replied “One thing more:
Come with me, once you give all to the poor.”
He went away sad. He could not let go.
The Master sent forth the seventy-two
To heal and to preach. He said don’t prepare
Provisions will come from God’s ample store
Take no gold nor extra clothing with you
How much baggage do I carry around?
How much do I cling to things material?
Thinking I am who I think that I am
Like Chinese fingercuffs keeping me bound
Patterns of grasping, deep, emotional
To loosen the grip: Satya Hai Ram Naam