Sunday, September 29, 2013


photo by Mark Haley 
a lone tree in the sharp hillside-
where clouds spill all over it.
that exact spot where the ghosts gathered.
do they worship the tree
or jump off the edges to be alive again?
that stone-laid path is of no use to the dead-
unbidden weeds swarm all over
helping the red hot ghosts to walk silently.
I wish for the patches in the sky to be covered,
taking pictures with my cell phone.
believe me, there were ghosts
but none in the photos
if seeing is believing, then I am a liar

"that image of Buddha in the clouds compelled me-
the story which has holes has to be told,
someday someone will be enlightened"

Sunday, September 22, 2013

crystal ball

The Moth and the Lamp, Cesar Santos 
why are you peering inside
what secret stories you seek to find
I cradle the glass ball
my wings are folded
my shoes undone
this enclosed space is my exile
my tiredness will soon make me into a pile
how I ended up here
I do not have a clue
I do know I have this itch to dance
it is like a rash one continues to scratch
now I want the wall to withdraw its claws
I will rejuvenate in no time

I could have stayed home
munched on apples
with milk and bread
but that was not to be

"I am destined for bigger things-
that french window is my silent partner"

Sunday, September 15, 2013

sway that bay

that map is such a vibrant spread
but with a short, vacuous smile
I wish for a sassy, sumptuous feast of words
no manipulative nature will slather out vision
vivaciousness may be lost in violet trappings 
do get me some interesting currency
I wish to buy a country or two
interesting adventures beckon me
although that map is stuck in a place
but my mind wanders everywhere

"there is no single master of the world,
but who pulls the invisible strings?"

Sunday, September 08, 2013

reading the menu in the clouds outside

I see magic in this train ride
a dimension lost for the present jet set generation
not so long ago
the intrigue of a simple menu was our center
it was an avenue of change from mundane life outside
in that crisp table cloth
stains had to answer for themselves
it sounds so strange to say it
but we played by the bell

in that kettle I can still taste the tea in one such journey
the blue marks reminds me of blossoming forget me not
his benign smile takes me down memory lane

tabled forever in my mind
the intrigue has been used to soothe me

"if only life was laid out in a small tray with few complications"

Sunday, September 01, 2013

atop that tree, I sway to the wind

artwork by Jeanie Tomanek 
let me sway on top for some more time
I feel the freedom of our feathery friends
look at the bird so close to me
I think it wants to chat
in that wet heat
I feel the inky wind on my hair
in the leafless branches I see tiny shoots
it sparks new hope that life will never be lost in the mist
nature has well oiled itself to last forever
I will gather scarlet flowers to make another anklet
that elephant will break my fall from dropping into a hole

"in the grey of our lives,
we will always find red and maybe some yellow too.
I want it all in each and every hue"