Poetry for Scientists
------------------------------- Inherent potential motion, always ready to move, moving still; ever filling and emptying form, motion everywhere at once. ******* Fractal 8/7/97 Everything making it up, it makes up everything. The unified field speaks of creation as a whole. Something big keeps saying hi in small places. Life spells off its special signatures one by one. ******* When we are ourselves, forces oppose us. When we are the Tao, legions form at our side. ******* 2/13/05 The world view grows larger and larger everyday, but I remain infinitely small. Since the beginning I've taken up heavy ideas that weigh little in the end. I lean on bodies of knowledge to support me. What was it we came here to gather, to give? Does a certain amount of good learnen land us a place in heaven? Are we really supposed to answer for ourselves there? I was hoping to ask the questions. ******* 9/16/05 In the dark in my den, a constellation of no particular logic, lights up the illusion to point the way; a compass in disarray. Where is the mystical meaning? There is a galaxy alight in my living room, not a spiral or natural form: the eyes of the technology that watch me; they themselves lost in the night. Deep inside there is footing. My destination, my journey. Never leaving, ever arriving-- a blind man's light. ******* 10/10/04 The evening news right here in my backyard. Can you see what I just said? The personal vista here in my yard is the best news I'm going to get today. Channel Fall is just fine. ******* 10/26/04 I imagined everyone laughing in America. My boss, your boss, all the kids, laughing in America. Priests and orphans, farmers and lawyers, all, every one of us, laughing in America. ******* Got a Right A man's got a right to feel safe walking around with hundred dollar bills sewn to his shirt if he wants, just like a woman has the right to wear what she damn well pleases. Wouldn't you like to grab just a few hundreds though? ******* 8/17/04 Some parents say I'm a great teacher. Not true I say, I have great students. Some say I'm a bad teacher. Not true I say. You're a bad parent. ******* We all thought we were communicating. Underneath the words, no one understood a thing. ******* |
Poems from the Heart
------------------------------- Shoveling Compost 5/30/13 There isn't much difference between me and compost. There it is, the transformed, transfigured remains of the earth's nutrition. My healthy choices. This is what my consumption has become. We compost in the end. Composting is time. ******* 10/23/12 When we close our eyes universes appear within. When we open them under the night sky we see our universe from the inside. Can we look forward to a day when God's eyes open? ******* The shortest distance between two friends is a hug. ******* You are the mountain you need to climb. ******* Breathing love into words a living prayer comes into being. Its pollen lights upon our ears, and somehow our hearts bloom. ******* 2007 A dragonfly came here to pray. Hunkering, she lowers her wings again and again. Belly down, she touches her forehead to the ground. She prays when she could be flying, and gives thanks for the sky. ******* 4/5/13 When you know you don't want to hurt anyone, it's easy to take the world in. When you know it doesn't want to hurt you, it's even easier. ******* 7/2/13 Deep in our being is a black hole, that when we peer in and enter, opens to the light of the universe. The body is the window into this hidden light. ******* The Subtle Body 6/30/13 Cupid is shooting arrows, piercing sinew and bone. Lovers sing out with each fatal shot. ******* 6/19/13 The word is out-- birds, crickets, dogs, cats-- everyone has something to say. The trees, flowers, waves on the ocean, all talking. A day opens a day closes, what message therein? Voices, voices on top of voices. The worldly AUM, all at once harmonious, and melodious. Each hour brings some news from the sun; the word is out. ******* Why do we RIP? Are we expecting to get up refreshed? I'm only resting. ******* 3/1/13 There's a well the lucky fall into. They go in dry and scaly and fly out with wings. ******* |
Observations
------------------------------- August 1, 2000 We think we see one another. We see nothing. We think we hear and understand. This isn't true. You have known no one in your entire life. When others appear, you see an idea, apparitions, history. When they speak, it's a code just out of reach. We reside below the surface. We send up periscopes and claim witness to one another. No, we remain the hand within the glove, the person within persona, wrapped like mummies. Eye to eye, ear to mouth, what's real is well concealed. A word here, a glance there-- that's all we get. Don't be fooled into believeing you know someone. After all, who knows you? ******* Squander Here I sit on Christmas Eve, alone fighting with my wife. She's in the kitchen grinding glass, I'm inside headphones with the speakers blasting. We pretend we have time to waste-- the warm champagne proves it. Ungrateful, we waste one another like unopened presents. ******* Silent, not the sound that silence makes, silent. Still, not the movement that stillness brings, still. Silent and still like light within darkness. Not like sunshine, but the radiance. ******* Brothers in Arms January 29, 1997 I take off my winter coat and hang it in the closet among the others so that they may keep it warm. ******* So and So Decomposed There was a Cupid's heart carved in a tree long ago. When the tree died, the earth rushed in letting the arrow go taking with it two names, forever. ******* Interiors December 27, 1998 Yesterday this yard was a blank page. Today there are clues to a story. It's plain to see: prints in the snow left by creatures who have business in the night. I can't let it lie there-- here at midnight. I'm looking for causes and intersections, the inside story. Waiting, I contemplate the speed of darkness, darkness that just is, without source. Darkness that claims time and space, before light began. I'm here to see the creatures of the night, that's all. In the full moon light, I wait for them to come. They'll speak for themselves. These aren't mere tracks in the snow. This is the account of the loves and commerce of the forest. ******* Do you know the reason why keys get along so well on keychains? Because they have holes in their heads. ******* |