Older Poems.

---

fade, still there
not waiting for asking for looking for
dance dance dance, repeat.
what a carpet!
love above, nuv, a dove,
two equals equals
asterisk asterisk period dash.
I know
?whi?
moon ocean pebble root
TOwEr TiPi ChAPeL CiTY
KERPOW!!!

winter '96-'97

average
    is
nothing.

(peep)

They say there are thorns

to protect every rose

and I didn't believe

when its scent filled my nose

but the blood on the petals

betrays my belief.

With two careful hands

the next rose I will keep.


winter '98-'99

If I were a frog,
I would hop 'round my pond
and sit on a lily pad
catching bugs with my tongue.
If I were a dolphin
I'd leap through the waves
with my dolphin buddies,
and I'd be the second smartest animal on the planet.
If I were a lion,
I'd laze in the sun
surveying my kingdom,
and have wrestling matches with my cubs.
If I were a bird,
I'd soar through the air
and sign my heart out
at every opportunity.

winter '95-'96 (the first of many)

a candle flickering, sputtering, burning steadily, red wax dripping down to the candle holder, which topples over, shaking the earth and causing an earthquake one September night under a crescent moon which once shone over our ancestors the apes hanging from trees growing in the greenest forest south of north. Neptune king of the ocean blue shakes his trident in anger at the apes because he sees what they will become and what they will do to him and his girlfriend Gaia. Stop.

spring '97

silver and blue are
scintillating brilliantly:
sun on the river.

so many snowflakes
blanketing a pine forest
in silence and white.

summer '97, winter '96-'97

Thousands of poets
write odes to the moon
for thousands of poets
have never known you.

summer '98

10 wake up
20 go to work
30 come home
40 watch TV
50 go to sleep
60 goto 10

summer '98

how many ghosts can you put to rest
and how many demons go back to hell
before you hear it--
the cold, unwanted certainty
that the red wizard
is about to die.

summer '98

I'm sure that if it happened every day, no one would care --
I mean, people don't even care about people
that love them,
and the burning of cities, the enslavement of the two-eyed people
could be met with just as much apathy
as the meal that his wife makes,
the invitation that he ignores.

summer '98

If the desert without rain

is the way it was meant

and the winter without spring

is itself, and content,

then my life without you

is the sand and the snow,

accustomed to dryness,

at home in the cold.

I don't need your love

to give meaning to life,

to smile or to dream

or make calm out of strife.

autumn '98

But your words and your smiles

are drops on the sand,

a replenishing drink

for parched land,

your laugh and your touch

are the sun on the snow,

melting the ice

so the water will flow.

Like the desert needs rain

and the winter needs spring

so I need your love

to make me a king.

the laugh of a child,
the healing of sleep,
the sound of the wind on the waves.
    there is nothing we need to know.

autumn '99