UP soil

when jim says returning to earth
his voice carries the soil his hands were in
his eye on the hands 
the hands the gods
the soil the stars

and again the ladies' eyes
grass to be cut
dogs to be fed

soil and spirit songs synthesize 
in the voices of the ladies and dogs
many times he sends the signal
through his type transmitter

other times returns to earth 
lets the voices pass on the wind uncaught

null detector

everyone knows most of life is bullshit
what i don't get
is how we all find that so easy to accept 

probably because awareness of the choice not to
so rarely allows us a glimpse 
of its gorgeous figure 

what'd you do last night

the mountain dreamed the stars
as we all watched in awe
with no way to record it

we tried to make a likeness
but it came out wrong
as the stars stopped watching the mountain so long ago

the sun rose and the shadows of the buildings
grew tall and obscured the mountain
we shrugged and walked to town for breakfast 

"I" will dare

verse is the language 
of no nation.

a dead language
lonely to compose,
solitary to speak.

the critics ghosts,
the subjects indifferent.

the language of faith 
in the world of evidence.

learn with wonder
speak with conviction 
don't expect a living dialogue.

what you wanted

grass isn't even green
don't tell the left brain what the right brain did
the love note sent
the loved illiterate
we can't see chlorophyll
but it exists

photo of an angel flower

in a picture a frail pale flower drifts
slow and shaky, diagonal up through
the lower atmosphere where everything lives
through gradations of white like blank drawing paper

up it goes
pushed through and sprung
from the brown, green and blue blur of her face
growing radiant and strong in its steady rise
towards the smoldering yellow and orange of above