RABAT is a black pearl
Of cellophanic rainbow
Gazing upon waves that curl
And lick a shore little known.
Gibraltar is the dock
Where it stedfast moors –
Enjoying sailboats that flock
The Mediterranean course
Yet Barbary lions live
Not far, in the Rif Mountains –
Golden, assertive –
Their kasbah amid the grass.
I SAW a woman emerge from a shadow
With a sly demeanor and look about.
Her sequined dress was aglow.
She didn't know I was also out.
I watched her remove a silver shoe
And stick her foot into the mere –
One of the darkest ferrous blue –
As if testing the temperature.
Her dress was even more brilliant -
After a countenance of approval -
When she crossed the bleak horizon -
Careful not to soak her lunar veil.
A WARM bed equals high rank –
For some, a can of beef stew
Feels like a roast
At the food bank –
For others, it's clean clothes.
From among simple joys –
Pick just one, if poor –
You'd want to preserve the most.
For me, it's a pound of coffee –
When I acquire it
Bring over your mug
And have some with me.
THERE is a garden variety
Of people before me:
Here are the Africans
Performing their ancient rites –
Represented by adeniums –
The petunias are the Whites.
The orange poppies further on
Are the bold Latinos
And the Native Americans throng
Their bed, each a Cherokee rose –
And what else could be
An Asian but an orchid?
It takes such a garden variety
Of people to color my world.
WHAT a brutal sun that assaults the cliffs
Where cacti and mescals dare to abide!
Here and there, dozens of petroglyphs
Decorating the canyon may be espied.
In large nesting circles neatly drawn
In evaporating wisps and bold squares
In a sun giving thanks for every dawn
In little starbursts and stick figures
In a deer, in an eagle looking strong
In a war scene foretold by prophets
It remains unsaid – time is not long
But to the same end, everything drifts.
SHOULD malachite bemoan
The diamond's luster
When the diamond could
Envy malachite's color?
Does the pearl cite
A greater metamorphosis
Than that of hematite
Though both be lustrous?
TELL me something more –
Something about yourself
I've never heard before
Lazily. It'll help
Pass an afternoon
As hot as this
For August is afoot
And I get restless.
If whatever I learn
Stirs my heart up –
Dances in my brain
Or makes me blush –
I can mull it over
And spite terrible August.
Then I'll consider
My day accomplished.
ALWAYS, a change of plans
Interrupts my tranquil course –
Set forth by circumstances
It appears, for the worse.
I resent it, I begrudge –
It chips away at my mind –
Finally, I'm forced to oblige
And surrender my time
But once by hushed words –
I learned of a blessing:
What seemed a dreadful recourse
Placed me in a better setting.
That's why when the Thief flees
You shouldn't be too upset
For the Divine may be
Watching out for your interest.
ON waves of midnight blue –
We shoved off in the boat –
It mattered not where to –
Anywhere at a casual knot.
We entered a world of darkness
None but us could see –
One of two black firmaments
Distinguished by a cool breeze –
And then, cradled by whitecaps –
We kissed – you kept me warm.
That the hour was so late
Was inconsequential.
OFTEN conversation carries
Us through the day
For talking about things is
Basic to an alliance
Yet at other times, we survive
A comfortable presence
Where the air is thick with love –
Nothing need be said.
FLOWERS in the desert
Vibrantly grow forth
In yellows and purples
Despite the salty Earth
And when I think about
How birds can fly at all
I am reminded that
Anything is possible.
A ROSE gave up her secret
Of its origin - of its beauty -
In the shadow of her crescent -
Fiercely hushed once to me.
She told me of a plan of love
And a Master Gardener who
Has a touch of silver that betrothed
The rose to the morning dew
And described a plane in between
Nothing and a foundation -
The design of which is unbreached -
That lies in an unmeasured dimension
But her exact words were lost
To the enjambment of my memory -
Moreover - my comprehension lapsed -
Found lost inextricably.
I BELIEVE in charity -
Simple but profound -
Joy made compound -
Spurred momentarily.
One act - hand to hand -
Across the bridge -
Is one's privilege
For the strong withstand.
I believe in humanity
And if a smile be requited -
Humble and innocent -
It little cost me.
OH joy! at the night sky
And the wonder it declares.
How flirtatious! How they flare -
The many stars on high!
There's Castor and Pollux
And Rigel and Betelgeuse
And look! - Aldebaran bids adiós
As he swaggers west.
WERE I a rose
I would model graciously -
Oblige those of wise choice
And prickle my enemy;
If just a blade of grass
I would blend in - nonchalant -
And peoplewatch as they pass
With no desire to flaunt.
TARRY with me tonight
My dear firelight!
Your precious warmth be
My solitary company.
It's my plush blanket
Wrapping me in heat.
Not all is well;
Darkness cast its spell.
Luxurious light -
Do stay tonight!
TRIOLET #3
For the favor of people and greed
I will not bring shame to my namesake.
A believer's crown, they don't esteem;
For the favor of people and greed
They lie and do a hideous deed
But take heart - enjoy what's good and straight
For the favor of people and greed
Will only bring shame to your namesake.
THERE was never a stiller night
Before that seemed so brim with spite
Whose heavy fingers pressed my window
Which forked a tongue of lightning glow
That spoke at length with my state of blight.
Spider webs for clarity of thought
Snakes that hissed silently and were fraught
With hatred, were each my companion
Each rivaling to have dominion
But neither one respected my lot
And burning within those surly clouds
Was the stench of fear as a shroud
That surrendered not a word nor clue
As to what I must or mustn't do
To quell the voice within and without.
WEEDS as tall as children
Partially hide the dusty windows.
A long silence hangs
Where once promise echoed.
Broken glass fills the street –
Glittering like emeralds
To some – to a majority –
Proving their travails.
OLDEN knowledge should smolder
As smoke rising from an ember -
Universal but not common -
Peculiar but not forgotten.
Tell me of those days of yore -
Of circumstances transpired -
So I can repeat on my lips
That which slumbers in silence.
OLD age doesn't exist for all
Because many claim its presence;
I submit that living goes on
Through many-hued firmaments.
A shade of love lives here
And over there, a victory, I deem -
Patience caught them in her lair
And surprise - she frolics in between
For one might, on some fateful day -
Pluck a strange flower
And on another, move a rock away
And something wonderful - uncover.
MY mansion awaits in heaven -
More cozy than earthly cathedrals -
Where I will retire of provision
And I can keep and admire its halls -
Skipping down them and back again.
A new and vast era nigh draws -
A gold key I'll take from His hand.
MONSOON SEASON
Pink clouds -
The wind picks up
Speed, scattering dry leaves -
Then starts the Earth-pounding rain, which
Beckons ...
HOW vast is the distance -
So I thought - between cradle
And what was the final ascent
To a plateau good and whole.
What fine opportunities
My wrinkles record as loss -
Hmm ... if only said itinerary
Were sooner traversed.
THE BALLAD OF RED FEATHER
Pretty like the crystalline canyon rocks -
Fair like a deer wandering in the morn' -
With the Great Spirit as a faithful witness
A baby girl named Red Feather was born
And for her onyx eyes and ruddy cheeks
An angel was sent with kisses to adorn.
Her misery began with John Martin -
A white trader of uncouth demeanor
Who took one day a Navajo woman
As payment for whiskey and gunpowder
And soon his bride realized an inheritance
But in so doing died young in labor.
Red Feather lived - lived with a cruel father
Who cursed her and of her did not boast -
Withholding not his friends who laughed at her
And was ignored by passersby the most -
Irretrievably lost between two worlds
That scorned red highlights and native clothes
Until one day when grief overwhelmed her -
She ran away - against the blinding tears -
Where else but to the village of her mother
But discovered that they too made jeers
At the sight of her and there enslaved her
And instead of love - realized her worst fears.
But solace found Red Feather at moments
When she'd steal away to Spirit Canyon
To gaze upon the weathered petroglyphs.
Silence touched her heart every now and then
As she'd sit among the lonely rifts
And consider the Earth with the heavens.
There among them was one where an artist
Told of the wish of an ancient warrior
To jump the cliff and join the gentle spirits
That captured Red Feather's awe in particular
And since the life ahead held not her interest
She soon desired him and her mother
So it happened during one nice spring day:
The wildflowers breezed as she took the path -
Eagles circled above her at midday
And Red Feather stood on the edge with wrath -
Embraced the sky and Sun and leapt away -
Seeking what the next world might have.
Since that time many a wayward Navajo
And traveler alike claim to have seen
Red Feather come to them - white with glow -
And swear wholly it was not of a dream
But that she lives - she lives as a ghost
Wandering along the cliffs and beneath.
So should you come to Navajo Country
Look sharp - Red Feather's spirit takes flight.
She may run silently with a clan of coyotes
Or dance in the shadows of your firelight.
She may be the breeze that blows softly
Or the silver mist that rises at night.
BLESS each palo verde bloom –
Those cuplets kissed by the sun
My vision wants to consume
That thus have raptured my love.
See how they speckle the tree
With a burst of yellow bright
And upon the branches flit
By the wind that blows nigh –
Leading me not to consider
The force behind nor why
But to admire how they arch
In reverence to the sky.
MY lover – he feels blank –
His personality shows through
Those shades of love and kindness
And fears held in check by curfew –
Neither brown nor yellow nor black
But blank with diamond edges
That detect Truth and what
I give back that simply is –
Neither opaque nor translucent
Nor what spectroscopy in between
But fashioned by the eye of God –
Made whole in splendid being.
Neither is love red nor pink
Rather crystalline and pure
And sparkles – discreet –
Behind some rare perimeter.
A CHANCE MEETING
What made you first look upon me
Makes me joyful in my heart
For you saw something that could be.
What made you first look upon me
Is what the others couldn't see
And since that moment we haven't part.
What made you first look upon me?
It makes me joyful in my heart.
It makes me joyful in my heart
Could it have been my eyes as blue
As a clear sky at summer's start.
What was it that pulled at your heart?
Could it have been my voice as sharp
As a clarinet tuned anew?
It makes me joyful in my heart
Could it have been my eyes so blue.
Could it have been my eyes so blue
That were all you ever needed
Or was it that my heart proved true?
Could it have been my eyes so blue
That my love you chose to pursue?
If not for the kind words I seeded
Might it have been my eyes so blue
That were all you ever needed?
LOVE is many, Water is many
And flows aplenty
But Fire is one
And consumes until gone
All but purity.
If to each other we belong
And we're to stay strong
Then feel the fever
And douse with ether;
Purify the bond.
SUCCESS is a strange definition:
Larger in the mind of an onlooker -
Smaller in the hands of a heritor -
In truth - without a measurement.
It can be exaggerated like a rubber band.
It can be dragged through the mud -
Rescued - cleaned and whitened up.
It can be far to sight or close at hand -
Pleasant to the eye on a resumé -
On a statement or ring like a melody
To the hearer of such rhapsody
Or with a shrug - be explained away.
Of cellophanic rainbow
Gazing upon waves that curl
And lick a shore little known.
Gibraltar is the dock
Where it stedfast moors –
Enjoying sailboats that flock
The Mediterranean course
Yet Barbary lions live
Not far, in the Rif Mountains –
Golden, assertive –
Their kasbah amid the grass.
I SAW a woman emerge from a shadow
With a sly demeanor and look about.
Her sequined dress was aglow.
She didn't know I was also out.
I watched her remove a silver shoe
And stick her foot into the mere –
One of the darkest ferrous blue –
As if testing the temperature.
Her dress was even more brilliant -
After a countenance of approval -
When she crossed the bleak horizon -
Careful not to soak her lunar veil.
A WARM bed equals high rank –
For some, a can of beef stew
Feels like a roast
At the food bank –
For others, it's clean clothes.
From among simple joys –
Pick just one, if poor –
You'd want to preserve the most.
For me, it's a pound of coffee –
When I acquire it
Bring over your mug
And have some with me.
THERE is a garden variety
Of people before me:
Here are the Africans
Performing their ancient rites –
Represented by adeniums –
The petunias are the Whites.
The orange poppies further on
Are the bold Latinos
And the Native Americans throng
Their bed, each a Cherokee rose –
And what else could be
An Asian but an orchid?
It takes such a garden variety
Of people to color my world.
WHAT a brutal sun that assaults the cliffs
Where cacti and mescals dare to abide!
Here and there, dozens of petroglyphs
Decorating the canyon may be espied.
In large nesting circles neatly drawn
In evaporating wisps and bold squares
In a sun giving thanks for every dawn
In little starbursts and stick figures
In a deer, in an eagle looking strong
In a war scene foretold by prophets
It remains unsaid – time is not long
But to the same end, everything drifts.
SHOULD malachite bemoan
The diamond's luster
When the diamond could
Envy malachite's color?
Does the pearl cite
A greater metamorphosis
Than that of hematite
Though both be lustrous?
TELL me something more –
Something about yourself
I've never heard before
Lazily. It'll help
Pass an afternoon
As hot as this
For August is afoot
And I get restless.
If whatever I learn
Stirs my heart up –
Dances in my brain
Or makes me blush –
I can mull it over
And spite terrible August.
Then I'll consider
My day accomplished.
ALWAYS, a change of plans
Interrupts my tranquil course –
Set forth by circumstances
It appears, for the worse.
I resent it, I begrudge –
It chips away at my mind –
Finally, I'm forced to oblige
And surrender my time
But once by hushed words –
I learned of a blessing:
What seemed a dreadful recourse
Placed me in a better setting.
That's why when the Thief flees
You shouldn't be too upset
For the Divine may be
Watching out for your interest.
ON waves of midnight blue –
We shoved off in the boat –
It mattered not where to –
Anywhere at a casual knot.
We entered a world of darkness
None but us could see –
One of two black firmaments
Distinguished by a cool breeze –
And then, cradled by whitecaps –
We kissed – you kept me warm.
That the hour was so late
Was inconsequential.
OFTEN conversation carries
Us through the day
For talking about things is
Basic to an alliance
Yet at other times, we survive
A comfortable presence
Where the air is thick with love –
Nothing need be said.
FLOWERS in the desert
Vibrantly grow forth
In yellows and purples
Despite the salty Earth
And when I think about
How birds can fly at all
I am reminded that
Anything is possible.
A ROSE gave up her secret
Of its origin - of its beauty -
In the shadow of her crescent -
Fiercely hushed once to me.
She told me of a plan of love
And a Master Gardener who
Has a touch of silver that betrothed
The rose to the morning dew
And described a plane in between
Nothing and a foundation -
The design of which is unbreached -
That lies in an unmeasured dimension
But her exact words were lost
To the enjambment of my memory -
Moreover - my comprehension lapsed -
Found lost inextricably.
I BELIEVE in charity -
Simple but profound -
Joy made compound -
Spurred momentarily.
One act - hand to hand -
Across the bridge -
Is one's privilege
For the strong withstand.
I believe in humanity
And if a smile be requited -
Humble and innocent -
It little cost me.
OH joy! at the night sky
And the wonder it declares.
How flirtatious! How they flare -
The many stars on high!
There's Castor and Pollux
And Rigel and Betelgeuse
And look! - Aldebaran bids adiós
As he swaggers west.
WERE I a rose
I would model graciously -
Oblige those of wise choice
And prickle my enemy;
If just a blade of grass
I would blend in - nonchalant -
And peoplewatch as they pass
With no desire to flaunt.
TARRY with me tonight
My dear firelight!
Your precious warmth be
My solitary company.
It's my plush blanket
Wrapping me in heat.
Not all is well;
Darkness cast its spell.
Luxurious light -
Do stay tonight!
TRIOLET #3
For the favor of people and greed
I will not bring shame to my namesake.
A believer's crown, they don't esteem;
For the favor of people and greed
They lie and do a hideous deed
But take heart - enjoy what's good and straight
For the favor of people and greed
Will only bring shame to your namesake.
THERE was never a stiller night
Before that seemed so brim with spite
Whose heavy fingers pressed my window
Which forked a tongue of lightning glow
That spoke at length with my state of blight.
Spider webs for clarity of thought
Snakes that hissed silently and were fraught
With hatred, were each my companion
Each rivaling to have dominion
But neither one respected my lot
And burning within those surly clouds
Was the stench of fear as a shroud
That surrendered not a word nor clue
As to what I must or mustn't do
To quell the voice within and without.
WEEDS as tall as children
Partially hide the dusty windows.
A long silence hangs
Where once promise echoed.
Broken glass fills the street –
Glittering like emeralds
To some – to a majority –
Proving their travails.
OLDEN knowledge should smolder
As smoke rising from an ember -
Universal but not common -
Peculiar but not forgotten.
Tell me of those days of yore -
Of circumstances transpired -
So I can repeat on my lips
That which slumbers in silence.
OLD age doesn't exist for all
Because many claim its presence;
I submit that living goes on
Through many-hued firmaments.
A shade of love lives here
And over there, a victory, I deem -
Patience caught them in her lair
And surprise - she frolics in between
For one might, on some fateful day -
Pluck a strange flower
And on another, move a rock away
And something wonderful - uncover.
MY mansion awaits in heaven -
More cozy than earthly cathedrals -
Where I will retire of provision
And I can keep and admire its halls -
Skipping down them and back again.
A new and vast era nigh draws -
A gold key I'll take from His hand.
MONSOON SEASON
Pink clouds -
The wind picks up
Speed, scattering dry leaves -
Then starts the Earth-pounding rain, which
Beckons ...
HOW vast is the distance -
So I thought - between cradle
And what was the final ascent
To a plateau good and whole.
What fine opportunities
My wrinkles record as loss -
Hmm ... if only said itinerary
Were sooner traversed.
THE BALLAD OF RED FEATHER
Pretty like the crystalline canyon rocks -
Fair like a deer wandering in the morn' -
With the Great Spirit as a faithful witness
A baby girl named Red Feather was born
And for her onyx eyes and ruddy cheeks
An angel was sent with kisses to adorn.
Her misery began with John Martin -
A white trader of uncouth demeanor
Who took one day a Navajo woman
As payment for whiskey and gunpowder
And soon his bride realized an inheritance
But in so doing died young in labor.
Red Feather lived - lived with a cruel father
Who cursed her and of her did not boast -
Withholding not his friends who laughed at her
And was ignored by passersby the most -
Irretrievably lost between two worlds
That scorned red highlights and native clothes
Until one day when grief overwhelmed her -
She ran away - against the blinding tears -
Where else but to the village of her mother
But discovered that they too made jeers
At the sight of her and there enslaved her
And instead of love - realized her worst fears.
But solace found Red Feather at moments
When she'd steal away to Spirit Canyon
To gaze upon the weathered petroglyphs.
Silence touched her heart every now and then
As she'd sit among the lonely rifts
And consider the Earth with the heavens.
There among them was one where an artist
Told of the wish of an ancient warrior
To jump the cliff and join the gentle spirits
That captured Red Feather's awe in particular
And since the life ahead held not her interest
She soon desired him and her mother
So it happened during one nice spring day:
The wildflowers breezed as she took the path -
Eagles circled above her at midday
And Red Feather stood on the edge with wrath -
Embraced the sky and Sun and leapt away -
Seeking what the next world might have.
Since that time many a wayward Navajo
And traveler alike claim to have seen
Red Feather come to them - white with glow -
And swear wholly it was not of a dream
But that she lives - she lives as a ghost
Wandering along the cliffs and beneath.
So should you come to Navajo Country
Look sharp - Red Feather's spirit takes flight.
She may run silently with a clan of coyotes
Or dance in the shadows of your firelight.
She may be the breeze that blows softly
Or the silver mist that rises at night.
BLESS each palo verde bloom –
Those cuplets kissed by the sun
My vision wants to consume
That thus have raptured my love.
See how they speckle the tree
With a burst of yellow bright
And upon the branches flit
By the wind that blows nigh –
Leading me not to consider
The force behind nor why
But to admire how they arch
In reverence to the sky.
MY lover – he feels blank –
His personality shows through
Those shades of love and kindness
And fears held in check by curfew –
Neither brown nor yellow nor black
But blank with diamond edges
That detect Truth and what
I give back that simply is –
Neither opaque nor translucent
Nor what spectroscopy in between
But fashioned by the eye of God –
Made whole in splendid being.
Neither is love red nor pink
Rather crystalline and pure
And sparkles – discreet –
Behind some rare perimeter.
A CHANCE MEETING
What made you first look upon me
Makes me joyful in my heart
For you saw something that could be.
What made you first look upon me
Is what the others couldn't see
And since that moment we haven't part.
What made you first look upon me?
It makes me joyful in my heart.
It makes me joyful in my heart
Could it have been my eyes as blue
As a clear sky at summer's start.
What was it that pulled at your heart?
Could it have been my voice as sharp
As a clarinet tuned anew?
It makes me joyful in my heart
Could it have been my eyes so blue.
Could it have been my eyes so blue
That were all you ever needed
Or was it that my heart proved true?
Could it have been my eyes so blue
That my love you chose to pursue?
If not for the kind words I seeded
Might it have been my eyes so blue
That were all you ever needed?
LOVE is many, Water is many
And flows aplenty
But Fire is one
And consumes until gone
All but purity.
If to each other we belong
And we're to stay strong
Then feel the fever
And douse with ether;
Purify the bond.
SUCCESS is a strange definition:
Larger in the mind of an onlooker -
Smaller in the hands of a heritor -
In truth - without a measurement.
It can be exaggerated like a rubber band.
It can be dragged through the mud -
Rescued - cleaned and whitened up.
It can be far to sight or close at hand -
Pleasant to the eye on a resumé -
On a statement or ring like a melody
To the hearer of such rhapsody
Or with a shrug - be explained away.