nothing concluded 96

usually self-inflicted

the solitude

submerged completely

at times

scarce room to breathe

who am I to believe

I can be invisible

if I want

to imagine that possibility

just might come

back to join this spot

and what is it called

when the mind won’t stop it’s

circles around each bend

or break the self so dizzy…

start with you

422/1998

when my eyes close and the water stops running

anticipation starts never let down

but hopes not always as high as the room

where he lies waiting for a floating angel

to sit on the edge of the bed

want nothing more than to paint a picture

where she sits done dressing for the day

time now for the opposite

seen the chill as she entered the room he feels it too

don’t mind his tears they are the good kind

how did she even know

back to his bearded face touching silk

the silver is tarnished and faded away

the snow has melted and he is what is left

right before eyes he breaks down

and she slept through it all

he wanted to wake you

something wouldn’t let him

disturb the peace

only then he realized that

it was his too

she brought him there…

sent into yesterday

began as a dream
came crashing into the side
of a mountain made me laugh
to myself and the others
do not know where he might be
nowhere and somewhere someone
is crying
night pushed too fast
into day
light will come up on the horizon
too far away for me to truly see
it clearly it becoming the only wish
knowing a little more about somewhere
someone is laughing
and no matter what
emotion is being used
as a cushion the fall
we all take our time
to get there is a place
and time for it all
the birds singing
in the rain and the wind
blows the message
sent into yesterday. . .

morning death

401/1998


the clocks hands
are nothing like his are old
and in the way
back to day one
no prize for trying
it doesn’t count
backwards spin
the wheel turned now
facing the east
wind blowing
out the match made here
what he has to say
gets lost or something
and they leave him alone
he must somehow payback
to one day he heard the song
sing these words
could really only dream
to be what he really wants
he hasn’t found the map
and as for the treasure
remains buried deep as the sky
is wide eyed in the morning
the death of yesterday. . .

nothing concluded 95

today the sky is almost

white nearly no blue

to be seen

no complaints as of yet

to be heard

how is the day spent

sitting so long

head buried in books

thoughts and time

flying on by

as birds return

from the south

it’s what they always said

in school

if memory serves

hardly the time

given to lift the head

and look around

what else could be seen

stuck on thoughts

tied to this spot

somehow as if more

than gravity was involved

these thoughts continue

nothing concluded…

nothing concluded 94

he is going to ruin

the surprise

knowing the arrival will

take place shortly

we all like to be surprised

eyes becomes tangled

and no words come out

the blue is bigger than the sky

and spreads across

this landscape

the one created

with one cup of coffee

after another

cigarette after the cough

won’t go away

waiting and today

no disappointment will come

back again after

work or in between stops

just to have a thought or two

not long until

time to move on

sun is gone

and the day is done

nothing concluded…

what could that be

so many names and I will use them all
of a sudden I can't remember a single day
walking into the light
went dim and there you stood
underneath the canopy
covering the earth with a layer or two
might keep you warm for now
what about later on
things will change what you don't know
into something you will know
keeping you in the highest of regards
given to few of us
before our eyes were opened
this time told me to ignore
the thoughts of last and
and to know that the last
will not come for so long
my friend staying silent and soon
returning again and again
finding out slowly
this is your home
and you may leave
always to return
back up a step or two
much out there out where it
don't make any sense at all
we have is what we are
still trying to figure out
what that could be. . .

apparently no mess

according to many
and many agree
the terms outlined below
hiding under the guise
so skillfully created
something no one might
enjoy the quiet

from now on words will not pour
from my mouth
the sky screams
with drenching rain
soaking some while the rest stay dry
and I vow
that thought I am soaked
holding no grudge
for those who do not
see as I do
from this moment forward
and so much better
to keep the thoughts to myself
sheltered somehow
no one can destroy my thought
if I do not let them out

lately, every thought
dismembered
distorted and finally dissected
mistook cut up and finally destroyed
what's left
nothing but the words
whirling wildly
making no sense at all
and I the fool again
over and over
until I cannot gather what was
and what now is
and make it make sense

broken glass shards
on the floor
had I been holding a stack
of plates, torn pages
wet from the rain
had I been carrying a book
paint all over everything around
carrying buckets of colors
luckily they are only words
and that way no one appears to be harmed
apparently, no mess
and I am still cleaning up
what is left
because no one sees the mess
but nothing could be further from true. . .

gravity sucks

-for Tark

in our minds we are all alone
friends can number as many as you can count
what counts
how well you deal with one when
all the talking stops
the phone stops it's ring
when all that is present
the howl of the wind
the scream of the mind

a mess on the pavement
a boarded up window
all that remains
alone in the mind
couldn't take the strain
not an excuse
a decision and no one there
to talk him out of it
keep him from
the shattered glass
ten floors to the bottom
ending in regret
how could it get that bad
alone the mind
and a fine line between
alone and being loneliness
losing balance and slipping
into desolation
no one knew
door was locked
didn't want anyone to know
ninety minute tape left behind
chronicle a life cut short
he had friends
a family a future
an above average intellect
when it came to that
final hour
he was alone desperate
who did he really want to hurt
forgetting all that he knew
if only he could have waited
a little longer
if the door wasn't locked
if the glass didn't break
if he had been on the ground floor
if only he could fly. . .

what would Walt hear?

America stopped her song
what do we hear now
sirens rushing 
scene of a family disaster
days not exactly filled
with the hard working
men and women of the past
what would Walt hear?

America choked up
holds back her tears
remembering the melodious
songs of old
how sad
the song isn't even
attempted anymore
simply ignored
all the words forgotten
still working

what would Walt think?

JA Prufrock revisited

314/1998

in that room they came and went
while Michelangelo’s back stayed bent
until the chapel masterpiece complete
and the women, would I ever meet
with their beautiful but judging eyes
they kept me distant with their sighs
retreat alone off to grow old
alone in the chapel it’s dark and cold
yellow smoke stained window has kept it’s tinge
the heavy door stares with one rusty hinge
freely swinging, never tied to this place
still look to the glass and the face
opposite direction is more appealing
look to the alter where once I was kneeling
asking the question “do I dare?”
not much matters of baldness or hair
why did I not ask the question in reverse
how could a question disturb the universe…

still in the room they came and went
and all that I said I know I meant
now I question myself and why
not one of them did catch my eye
wondering if it would’ve mattered
some months passed and stained glass shattered
for all to see on the marble floor
my eyes can’t move the rusted door
inside unmoved the mind kept quiet
outside the sounds showed me the riot
outside is where the women went
I lost my chance with back still bent
on looking to the roof
thoughts and things, I lost the proof
there was a day when I was young
but no message sent or song to be sung
now this voice can’t hold a tune
and no one to hear it except the moon…

still in the room where they have come and gone
it was all a game and I was the pawn
cannot say if I missed the boat
my hair wore thinner and I sold my coat
all because I was so afraid
all of the mistakes that I have made
the wrong decision yet again
counting backwards start from ten
reached just one, but nothing’s changed
now my thoughts I rearranged
not so young, not quite old but
I unrolled my pants and had to cut
the end
still no message prepared to send
to the women standing while I felt fear
afraid to bring myself too near
thought I was the fool, too much—too much
what was it then their look their touch
something kept me in my place
questioning all both time and space
moving to the ocean side
but they hear me coming and the mermaids hide
feeling fear again, then I don’t
they think I’ll drown, but that I won’t…

greeted by the regulars

greeted by the regulars
and made to feel at home
and at home made to feel as if I don’t belong
not blaming anyone for this feeling it’s mine
and there is no one to blame
talking among themselves
upon arrival I am warmly greeted by both makes me laugh
that I could go home and be unnoticed
for hours so strange
and feeling that something is wrong
with the picture faded a bit
part of it missing something strange
something just the same…

where the day went

wondering where the day went
waking so hard
eyes open suddenly darkness
arrives drowning
my lightness sounds so familiar
to my ears and voices all my own
out through other people
wondering where everyone went
gone now don't feel too alone
at times no one exists
even when they are here
walking that fine line between
being alone and loneliness
turning to either side
only two shoulders to keep me company
left wondering where the day went
sudden purple sky surprised
for days now only gray
beginning to understand
a London thought
always raining never been there
so I don't really know
where the day went...

a bit like yesterday

not much to say
today
a bit like
so many before
seeming so different
but just another
in a stack
that reaches the sky
I look around
no one around me like me
everyone seems
so carefree
sometimes wishing
I could be
someone else
for a change
does anyone think
this much
tangled in a web
of thought
not much to say
today
a bit like
so many before...

in front of me

the sun rises in front of me
seeing what put me here
the words I write
because I cannot speak
softer when you pull me close
as I will come
without reaching the height
don't want to imagine
much more when we walk
and the street won't end
but who began
to think I know
I do know
that I am watching
as you move closer
and closer still
I stand where I am
not sure what I expect
nothing as of yet
will say so much
of the time
spent in a dream
and we are there
we sit but what comes next
who's to say
sit back and enjoy the ride
this thought out
of my mind
spins backward forward
moving
in all directions
have led me to this spot
me where I am not saying anything
is fine with
what I know
I do not know
that it is fine with me...

just call me

just call me when the storm is over
no longer want to sit in the rain
it depresses me
so many times before like a wet dog in the rain
hard to believe
the rain used to make me smile
that smile is gone...just call me when the snow is shoveled
or melted or just gone
I really don't care how
so many times knee deep and stuck
too long like a car spinning it's wheels
not moving an inch
hard to believe
the white once brought amazement
that amazement is gone...just call me when the sun is shining
hope you don't burn
so many times been burned by all kinds of sun
used to the pain it brings tears
can't even feel it anymore
wish I wasn't so numb
that feeling is gone...just call me when it returns
and when the rain won't soak my eyes
when the snow won't block my path
when the sun won't burn my back
just call me when I am ready to smile
when I am ready to be amazed
when I am ready to feel again
until then don't call
right now I am gone...

traveling at the speed of sound

silence, then-
moving from there to a new spot created by sound
I stand back and watch, what more can I do
want to be a part of it for now ears is all I can be
glad I can be a part of your sound when you are back home

silence then-
getting word you showed them all moving from a
stagnating spot for you not learning but burning in you to move
move on slowly taking all in stride
now no longer hiding behind the rest you stand center stage
helmet and goggles ready for the journey ahead

silence then-
more silence you are gone on your own
with no words only sound moving slowly
no one can stop your plight
don't know where you'll land
can't help but hope it is close to this place I call home...

riding zephyr

let us conspire and write a song
we will write even if wrong
will be told by a muse
that our song will only confuse
those around we seldom know
not wind the zephyr will blow
and no direction can tell
us how to write- just as well
we will be though an empty hand
will show us the way but where will we land
uncertain and also is the day
right in our minds where we must stay
until the last word is heard
until our vision has been all but blurred
by the rain and a pound at the door
leave them standing only wanting more
of what we have and it may not be much
the horn releases magic with a simple touch
the sounds penetrate as angels hide
showing some Shambala where the buddha lied
and maybe still does as if we could know
the power of same zephyr out your horn blow
down the walls so carefully constructed
until this day clear vision obstructed
now with this song all will see clear
a vacuum state bringing all very near
to a side no matter which one
no one will leave all damage undone
with words and sounds cut to the bone
nothing can break us a sword or a stone
thrown into the glass shatter a dream
that I had before now we are a team
that won't lose as zephyr blow we ride
the long wind westward in the east we've been tied. . .

nothing concluded 93

sitting in the midst

a cloud of confusion

disappearing and reappearing

right before eyes

close each day

no one knows

and he may not be the first

right or wrong

singing some wordless song

all thought

just so happened

to have a pen in hand

give him credit for that

and he won’t need to be

first in line

or last out the door

onto the floor

or out in the back yard

remembering moments

as a child again

listening is the best

teacher (aside from my dad)

anyone can hear

what is said

how many listen

and one day it will all end

six or seven days before

that hoping someone

will tell him what to do then

if not now

right or wrong

just trying to find some sense

in the world spinning

clouds of confusion

and nothing concluded…

nothing concluded 92

no one wants to

be awake this early

too early enormously tired

falling over myself

and thoughts

awake then regretting

staying up so late

make up for it tonight

hitting the bed earlier

no one wants to be tired

wishing at times

the whole situation should be different

rewriting the thoughts

that don’t seem to fit

and finding old ones

buried in the books

collecting dust

good thing they don’t

expire like milk

in the back of the refrigerator

wishing not easy

to be someone else

in that situation

no one knows either way

supposing the fantasy was true

wish all I want

won’t make anything

happen worry will still be waiting

in the years to come

they call it experience…

know for now

125/1998


letting it cool
the hot spot
myself from a far off place
my hands flat on the table
may not hold my weight
a moment, I will return
onto a road I do not know
what tomorrow may bring only
what you need
to read carefully to see
the white beneath the black
lines forming words
fitting together like a puzzle
that was left unfinished
thoughts return someday
an answer may come
closer so I can explain
the vague description given
names to all those things
just don’t make sense with words
will work hard and you will succeed
in the spot where I sit
for now someday though not here
the siren sound
so loud it is not as bad
as it seems
less real when thought about
time for a change
the way you think today
only one in a line of many
more to come
closer for a moment more
than what I know for now. . .

nothing concluded 91

seemingly chaotic

some very powerful

times, don’t know

what to believe

of what I hear

suddenly I am

thrown into a frenzy

of what I think

and how I fit

into the scheme

for a time

thinking politically

now more

spiritually

more than usual

knowing that

there are

some things that

will never be

completely clear

whatever ones

beliefs are, that

work for them, are

right, the problem

arises when

someone tries’

to force their

beliefs on others

to me this is wrong

nothing concluded. . .

only right now exists

always worried
about an end
to something so comfortable
always worried my comfort
will make me lose
my perspective on life
everything will end
and there is nothing I can do
to stop this end
always worried and that place is not
where I should be
enjoying every moment I have
treating each as if it were my last
man has said many times
now is the only time
this is true
hard to avoid thought
on what could bring
this now
to an end
looking into eyes
tomorrow disappears
only right now exists. . .

nothing concluded 90

remember those and forget the rest

isn’t as hard when the eyes

glued shut with fear

the world around suffocates and terrifies

nothing concluded…

nothing concluded 89

they all gather in a half circle

around the fire

below the dark night sky

only light from above

stars and moon

there is always a simple

solution to anything

thinking about ourselves

surely will only complicate

an ultimately simple solution

thoughts turn to ash

sitting for a few moments

quiet alert alone

ash falls from the air

blow it away

sitting in some sort

of memory posture

for a time each day

analyzing the mind

no one wants it to end

trying to scan memory

for reasoning

behind the daily visits

to the spot

many years back

such patience

an awful place it is

hope they burn it down

on it tossing all these memories

nothing else

final stages of the misEducation

might possible

could get me nowhere

or somewhere else entirely

don’t know nothing (concluded)…

nothing concluded 88

too many thoughts

all at once

desire only to feel

somewhat sane again

maybe it’s foreign

except in the dreams

they won’t stop

waking the mind from

restful silence

nothing concluded…

further away

warm wind blowing

bubbles in the juice

keeps it going

until it can go no further

away from the point

to the track

will get back on top of that

is all I am at liberty to say

understand is to lie flat

back up from the edge

is too sharp 

corners become rounded

bend and head above water

gets deeper with every step

closer need a better look

no further away from this spot

may never come clean

the mess is intolerable

noise coming from the window

opens and down we fall

back to the beginning

a chain reaction

speaking louder than this

somewhat incomplete

sentence making no sense

to give you what you need

to dig deeper down from high

times or low tide moon being seen

bury bones build bigger problems

getting older and wiser some still

go further away from now

same or not

doesn't matter

of fact presented a prize

new contract squeeze a little tighter

around the throat

swelling too much to swallow

all at one time and with each word

moving forward but

further away from the point...

nothing concluded 87

called her sister once

now seeing distrust

in familiar eyes

across a wooden floor

sitting together

a social view of revolution

but socially is it for the people

against imperialism above all

with little regard for people

nothing concluded…

nothing concluded 86

spinning the wheel

until returning to the spot

his own house

and bed and emotion

coming with the territory

not soon enough

so much is lost

so much is yet to be gained

upon returning to the spot

thunder in the sky above

spinning the wheels

and mantras said

and heard

around and over again

in the mind quiet

too much to think on

at times overwhelmed

by the world

and the atrocities

only can pray harder

nothing concluded

automatic thoughts return

eight years from now

thunder still rolls above

more questions than answers…

nothing concluded 85

falling from far

above nothing

to stop the fall

concluded by

the ground below

up so high

cannot see that which

eye may have missed

falling fast seeing

what never hit eye

seemingly secure

in whatever comes this way

never as comfortable

even in free fall

forward at least

prepared to fall

as hard

if not harder than before

strong arm raised

steady in the air…

nothing concluded 84

rewind then

stop for a moment

lasting too long

this time around

and on again

don’t’ know why

bothered and some will

never quite understand

can’t explain and no one

really cares anyway

climbing up the rope

pass someone who says there

is no top

the bottom is still

close pull harder

drowning in a glass

of water

tapping at the side

until it breaks

and releases these thoughts

blank (ask me again)

blank
page fourteen
thinking
another may know me
well enough
blank
mind cannot
think hard enough
soft as I fall
from where went down
too far
blank
empty
mind
blank
white or non-white
simple
sorry I asked
don't answer
blank again
why wait
ask me
no
don't
all right
ask me again
may not know
blank
who are these people
why so quiet
blank
simple
done
blank again. . .

nothing concluded 83

many times

stopped wait wondering

what is it we must do

in order to get by

maybe write a song

everyone coming

back from

where they have been

and getting ready to

go wherever they go next

pushing the toes off

the ledge where standing

was what eye wondered looking

down how many stories

nothing concluded

some even whisper

while in the same room

doesn’t matter what’s being said

only that others can’t hear it

how rude

slow day

working backwards

from the beginning

when will we all

walk together

some people act as if

every stranger is going

to rob them and that

must feel strange

to the stranger

soon the sun will set

and the day will be done

too fast today

need to reprogram and slow

down that fast

sun smiling onto

this Fro—Zen ground

and still the toes

back from the ledge

but cold

everyone will be converging

on this spot soon

won’t matter much

never has

nothing concluded…

paper snowflake

looking through the yellow window

don't have answers

or even know question

out into the cold

sun burns down pounding

a silent dream beat

wandering soul finding a match

lit the darkened room

once green across out another window

two pieces of tape hold

the paper snowflake in place

see it from here but empty or full

does it really matter

that much not sure

voice muffled thinking someone

must know not here not now

wrapping pictures

who's present or past

and what does the future hold...

Thursday noon

so close to the edge

hoping not to fall
rise up above
but feeling so small
the thoughts that rage
and notion that I'll never fit
into the puzzle of life
but I won't quit
escaping necessary
in order to find peace
cross legged on the floor
and the rage will soon cease
expose all my wounds
despair
and all of the thoughts
leading me to not care
about myself
in the least bit
haunted by that feeling
might never fit
and it's a feeling
won't soon get
it's like swimming
without getting wet
bet all your money
or better yet mine
something will assist
wait for the sign
to tell the tale
still really not sure
and when we stop caring
we will be here no more
no more of this
and way too much of that
remember five years
right there where I sat
seeming so long
flying so fast
positively feeling
as if the time would last
not long enough
cannot sit still
feet still planted
on the window sill
with all of the plants
growing strong
like the will to go on
but will it last long
as the hair grows
out of my head
worry not much
just thinking instead
upon departing
what do they say
never felt wanted
they want me to stay
and not move
the spot found
no one is here
upon turning around
in my sleep
never quite reaching a dream
and this reality is
exactly what it seems
so simple when
put into words
different somehow from
those I once heard
the news but
know not what it said
everything living will
someday be dead
this doesn't sadden
but a far look ahead
some kind of goal reached
when we are dead
still unsure
and may have it all wrong
sorry to disappoint
held captive too long. . .

the pen won't rest

1210/1997

and the pen does not

stop me if I go too far

from my point me

in the right direction

if followed by clouds and rain

the skies tears

on pale cheeks and skin

turning red when touched

by the thought I would

know by now

and again I see the writing

on the floor cracks under

too many feet

rising to the occasion

then falling to the floor again. . .stop to think I may be moving

slowly at times down

to the end of the road

where this race ends

and another soon to

begin and away from

but close enough too

much more to come

back tomorrow

always twenty-four hours away

behind lie the days we cannot

return to that day

speaking loud and clear. . .

the hat doesn't fit

down to the depths

ears pop
windows smash
out of a mind
spinning with no end
the dizzy spell
the world
just like it sounds
as if it can't be seen
clear enough
of what's needed
not much to get by
my side by side
with him
again repeating
what's been said
this was important

now and then
sitting alone
not so content
with a mind
feeling empty
cup of coffee
keeping him sleepy
sounds silent
screaming so loud
pound the thought
that won't die
in footsteps
in front not behind
the man alive
and breathing heavy weighing down
from above or below
toes take root
in the soft earth

brought to that spot
you in the crowd
millions of strangers
nothing is stranger
than eye
thinking too much
of the same song stuck
in a head
won't float away
from where he thought
he knew what it all meant
to tell you
will be missed
don't hear words
when eye
stand alone

it's now
from now on
the other side
with stronger forces
a mind to scramble
to its feet exposed
under the sky blanket
and all is falling
tremendous height
now sinking
in the seat
under the hat
that doesn't fit. . .

fear the day

today is the day
after yesterday
he told me things
will change
and what was it that the thunder said?
‘Da Da Da!'
how could anyone take him serious
this day has arrived
what can we say
still frozen with the chill of last night
the stars shine as bright
eyes of the night
a night that would not end
today came and ruined the equation
proving it false
again hearing
‘Da-Eliot closed his heart'
‘Da-he closed his mind'
‘Da-what a disappointment'
to each his own
admit that it saddens
to move from the river bank
and forget all he said
out of fear. . .