Our Immense Powers (a poem)

Above clouds of grayish-blue
we see a blazing orange sky;
how did we get up here?
we’ve stopped asking why

We desire to see the world
and all its glorious sights,
we travel anywhere we wish
we fly through colorful nights

How did we attain this power?
We really do not know,
we go anywhere at any hour
come with us and we will show.

(Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash)

Pull the Moon Down (a poem)

shoot this arrow into

the starry night sky

& pull the moon down

it’s pale & useless

it offends my sensibilities –

i want death-sleep &

complete darkness

(Photo by Wai Siew on Unsplash)

Silence of Winter (a poem)

the silence of winter is not

such a terrible thing –

graying snowbanks by roadsides

reduced to slush & a thick sky

cold & like the finest cotton,

naked trees, dying leaves

hanging for dear life

reminding me of sledding down

icy hills, red plastic breaking

leaving shards to be buried below

like black bears snuggled in

warm caves

(Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash)

Yellow Moons (a poem)

be careful, son

don’t delve into

too much mystery

it’ll consume you

pray to yellow moons

inky-black skies

howling wolves

green wilderness

cycles of rebirth

summer turns to autumn

the land sustains us

be careful, son

& brave

(Photo by Izabelle Acheson on Unsplash)

Orange Sky (a poem)

Desert sands of deception

flames of futility

growing in the wilderness

under an orange sky

baking us at record temps –

Our Planet is dying

screaming, crying

and she’s angry.

(Photo from Insider.com)

Note: This poem was a meditation on the wildfires happening in California right now. I haven’t read much about them, but I do know that much of it is being caused by the increasing damage of man-made climate change.

The Blues (a poem)

Bask in nighttime blues

stars dot the sky like flecks of white paint

Mothers moan for lost children –

we want rhythm, but not the blues

the aqua blue of deep seas

the blackened blue of bruised eyes

the blues guitar of the Mississippi Delta

the crystal blue eyes of your lover –

sing the blues, young one

sing ‘em while draped in a blue dress

drowning in muddy waters.

(Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash)

Rock Bottom (a poem)

Alcoholics like to talk about rock bottom –

the moment they recognized the bottle is filled with lies

the moment when they open their eyes

+ know they don’t have to drink anymore

I hit bottom in a rehab far from home after unkind words

from a social worker who told me

I was running from life – but that’s in the past

I’m still running, I know not why

the sky is falling, fireballs shooting like comets

+ I think this recovery thing is never over –

it’s a life-long process that can’t be defined

by our constant categorizing.

(Photo by Adam Wilson on Unsplash)