Saturday, February 23, 2013

That gypsy sat

So that gypsy sat and pondered some
on the form of human love
and saw what should be straight and true
was convoluted, bent.

She scratched the surface, looked inside,
and, lo/behold, a once bright gem
was covered thick and densely with
the moss of an agenda.

How it got there still unknown
but on her travels round about
she knew the ground beneath her feet
had hardened over time.

No longer could she softly tread
and feel the sand between her toes
because there is no give between
the layers of agendas. 

Now agendas lie in tandem with
the silence of a lie
and smile their satisfaction
at their invisibility.

Agendas, agendas!  There is no magic wand
that clears the underbrush with the flick of a wrist
and who will take the time to find
the unadulterated hard to hold    
purity of soul?

It’s only purity that loosens up the base
to enable easy access to that intolerable moss
but being like love not puffed up
it requires a guiding hand to find its hiding place.

“Take my hand!” that gypsy cries
but of her feet, oh, no, no, no,
they hurt each day and suffer more
than ere can be believed.

No longer pondering that gypsy now must wander
so she packs her wisdom deep inside,
her love off to the side,
and trundles over hardened ground
until her sure demise!

Thursday, February 14, 2013

The truly meaningful

When I decide to leave this place
it would be, I know, to enter grace
and be who I have always been
when serving at the feet of love.

It’s not a love this world can know
when hormones always steal the show
and eyes attuned to light upon
the fa├žade of skin and bone.

I think to pack up all my life
but still so much comes daily back
for me to see, touch, and assess
what fits into my travel bag.

I think I’ll leave you here, you know,
because you knew yet still remained
distant and too far apart
from the truly meaningful.

And then there’s time that may decide
to change your state of mind
but of grace a constant who can know
the cut-off time for choice?

You and I and them and they
will take our choices to the grave
so just in case, yes, just in case,
choose wisely now or simply stay
a wanderer too far from grace
to hear and feel the full import
of the truly meaningful!

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Is there ...

Is there a club for the love deprived
beyond the reach of the human mind
or do they meander the galaxies
lost and abandoned in loneliness?

Is there a club for the truth seeker
where gems are unearthed, cut, polished, strung, 
or do they merely adorn themselves
with whatever it is they can perceive?

Is there a club for the evil deceivers
where gloating and boasting their agenda
or are they banished to another time
to make amends as karma decides?

But there are no clubs for the guilty as charged
when one day lost, then dressed up, gloating,
for who has the price for clubs willy-nilly
when the soul penniless in the afterlife?

So what can we do but choose, choose,
and pay, pay, and pay again now
for a club of the mind that surely awaits
the up to date subscription payers. 

I don’t know, don’t really, really, know
but I pay, have paid, and will pay
for loving in spite of life’s artful design
that keeps me in each and every 
imaginable club!

Sunday, February 3, 2013

No denial

I’ve changed my mind; there’s no denial
what was no longer can be
when love remains forever hidden
in nights that stretch to infinity.

And now too far from a land
that thrilled from the ground up
the reins that once tethered my heart
have slipped into life’s intolerable lies. 

Alone I cannot untangle the knots
that one upon each other all day
grow to keep me so well confined
within the realms of old comfort zones.

There is no comfort in endless nights
that hide the beauty of eyes
and render a smile as non-existent
between walls that have nothing to say.

I give up!  I’m ready to move
from a life too hard for the sensitive
into the beautiful, beautiful,
now perceived afterlife ~
but there’s no denial;
I can change my mind!

Friday, February 1, 2013


I once was open to the mystery
of how and why life happened to be
and then came love to make me then see
life’s just a game everyone plays.

There are no rules that govern me
but still the small print, free-will, you see
and I throw the dice, gather the chips,
and bet I can overthrow my destiny.

But trust your heart, I surely think not
for heart is a-skewed by love’s honesty
that not now or ever will fit
into that box marked “self-centeredness”.

It is my life, it is, it is,
and yet without love it’s a travesty
of life’s ever abiding deep mystery
I came to know when open, you know.

But you don’t know, you’re closed to “the know”
when ensconced in that damn awful box
but it’s not your fault; you’re a child, yes, a child
of this great and expansive deep mystery
termed, of course, the Universe!