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…