rainier day women

around mt. rainier,
lone peak rising
above seattle

on a clear day,
the light cascading
down its snowy slopes

the rainy weather,
precipitation
from the pacific

olympic climbers
test their mettle
on the mountain

helicopters rise overhead
lifting unfit climbers
up off the faces.

dangle, tongue, and rot

since words have such power to make all men cower
dangling from a lariot by the proletariat
the poet hasn't much time to think of a rhy-
some quick tongue fling to resonate and ring
in the minds of his captors who devour like raptors
his inner-most thoughts left to dangle and rot.

open lots are / posh lifestyles

(an anti-poem)

open lots are being grabbed
the speculation has begun
leading me to wonder just

and unjust

how long my neighborhood
will retain its special funk
that currently keeps out yuppies

to adjust

the preparation by their caring
elders underscores the lack
of understanding and investment

of mine

as far away as -Park
and -Heights in their whitewalled
fenced-in pre-determined posh

lifestyles.

how many headless / a loss

how many headless bunnies
lie in chocolate repose
while children hunt down eggs
on their twinkling toes
in spring-time dresses
the rain making messes
mud on their spindly legs
far too many I s'pose.

how many legless lambs
are roasted on spits
and frightened way out
of their four-legged wit
cut through in shear terror
but through the human error
spout off the cuff like doubt
fists curled in startled fits.

how many spineless men
hang a lone man upon a cross
responding to crimes with crimes
then celebrate their earthly loss
marching on like reel legions
through so many worldly regions
tell me how many times
must we revisit such a loss.

the nautilus / through musical cascades

the nautilus was a vessel unique
as imagined as can be rational daughters
nemo treated her special to speak
her pilot through outernational waters.

exactly where to the craft had dived
nobody fathomed but the captain
he kept her depths in his mind's
size and in his leagues mapped them.

through the eyes of professor aronnax
surviving giant squid, hurricanes
cannibals, whale hunts, shark attacks
in chapters that wave through musical cascades.

sundays are a / shared morning

sundays are a breeze
the late-rising sun
the endless snooze

dressed in our best
huddled under warm
sheets in rest

news shows at noon
not leaving the room
dual supine perspective

then rise summoned
by sumatran or
columbian beans

grounds for waking
beyond the zone
of our comforter

ranking determination
priorities against
daunting domestication

beyond the remote
reach of each other's
occupational constraints

prior experience
posterior pride
and do not hide the warning

the newspaper stories
that escape the editor's
internal agenda

propaganda of real
estate offerings
ads classified by

shape, size, color, gender,
partitioning criteria
like our shared omelet

we say all and nothing
in a single solitary
sedentary, shared morning.

wisdom / youth surmise

wisdom, though empirically
acquired is not intuitive
no matter what your sources say

no matter how often many
times you're given advice
it's not until you slip

trapped in the grip of a vice
handcuffed to the radiator
as they go through your socks

in search of tiny, crystal rocks
that the absurdity of your mission
the sating of addiction

of your daily life become
so apparent you wonder how
your parents didn't catch on

but they too are not so wise
or so you in your youth surmise.

a warning / a voice

a warning

honesty
never heeds

(humility means
never having
to speak out of turn;

earning means
never having
it all given to you;

silence
never shows off)

a voice

Palm Sunday -- April Fools -- Gimme Five

Worldwide, Christians are lined up
waving palm fronds and leaves
fanning their need for communion

Holy people require patches
to the doctrine so porous
as to tax the poorest latches

to oil the hinges of portals
to the afterlife to be led to
after they live lives as mortals

Any religion in need of investment
that cannot stand alone on merit
afraid to be naked, without vestments

uses Palms to hide the member of David

lost in a chorus of Hymns
lost in a forest of Psalms
lost in tithes of Alms

hide their children's eyes
from what they don't want to see
from what they don't want to be

the selective memory and shared mystery
Crusading against the truth
the power wielded by Church history

invisible forces that wind the hands of time
wield eternity against the aging disciples
who hem, haw, and pray to different versions

subverting the unified notions of the Church

my hands are clean of dust to dust
my head clear of ashes to ashes
of offerings, sacrifices, and devices.

my temples are another story.