I have written poetry since I was a little child. In fact, I started writing by making my own lyrics to pop songs I heard on the radio in grade school.

I've continued to write poetry throughout my life, experimenting with cut-ups and other experimental techniques pioneered by heroes such as William Burroughs and long rambling verses a la Jack Kerouac during college in the '70s. I discovered haiku in the late '90s, and that remains my favorite format, though I write three haiku and string them together as one piece.

Here's one quick example:

This place, dear friend, I

return now, but different

open and happy

Will these green riches

fall into my lap, winter?

My mind says yes, yes

Fall birds now flocking

Their songs bring me smiles and tease

one more prayer out.

 

But I also write in a totally free-form format. The first rains of 2006 reminded me of this poem, written in October 1999 as I moved into a new apartment in midtown Sacramento to finish writing my book "Reaping The Wind," which came out in early 2001. I am now beginning yet another energy book, this one entitled "Introduction To Energy."

 

First Rain

Ravens rant as crows gather in copper skies
Heron necks crane, ducks bopping like bobbers
There is ceremony in the air
Days shrinking to a smaller shell
            pebbles on the beach
            Still…

 

Changing light only shapes
            the immediate vision
            time lies hidden between our toes
            our ancestors at our feet
            stories and deep voices with every ocean wave
            that jumps to shore

 

Paintbrush spreading orange
            dressing the landscape
            the smooth autumn bare hills
        the golden dreams of what was once spring
       
        Now rasping autumn
       
Full moon mouthing earth’s nipples
            century-old trees with multiple knees
            making love to the souls of the sun
            bare branches mark evening’s borders
            Connecting the dots; breathing in crayons…

 

The first fall rain smells like produce
            the clouds gave it away a day or so ago
            soft fuzzy blankets – strange patterns and textures,
                        from puffs to smears

 

Sky is a mirror –
            emotions paint and peel away the layers of drama
                        that dictate our inner peace
                        the broad shoulders of genius
                                    our narrow ideas
                                    about ourselves, our country, our species, our universe.
        To be free of all labels!
       
Deep soaking rain, water drenching the roots of dogma, claws of cats,
                        the throat of hummingbird
                        the falling tears
                        the recycling of our ever present water,
                        flows that feed fortune in each drop
                                    that magically falls to sweet earth
                                    dry autumn earth

 

                                                sinking teeth
                                                            into the baring forest
                                                                        of winter…
                       

 

These next poems were all written this past summer, when my sweetheart was away in France for one month. We didn't realize how much we got used to each other until we were apart for that period of time. The photos included here were all taken with my Pentax digital camera. Enjoy!

So far away...yet I see your smile in the flowers, witness your wonder at the call of the Bewick's wren, the towhee and the golden-crowned sparrows.

The sun came out once today, and while this place is empty, quiet, your signatures live on in your love of style and attention to details, still filling entire rooms with your scent. I tease your perfumes out of the pillows, remembering how you feel in my brown hands.

Moon making waves out in the ocean, blanket of fog now tucking us in. A new day waits, or so demands the summer full moon. We are on the cusp of something wonderful and wild. I am with you as you are with me. Together -- yet apart, connected and yet so incredibly free.

To now light and tend to the fire, whose furtive desire to burn forever is allowed, and even encouraged, to be...

 

Investing in myself

finally after all those

tears and years, now gone

In its place, unknowns

but my energy is more

free, contained and strong

Redwood canopy --

stream sparkling, tall ghosts nod and

cradle feathers white.

Time passing, summer

feels more special than ever -- stars yelling at night.

The so-busy mind, trails, flowers, birds, love, calling...

giving in, living.

Kisses of freedom, the proud ocean always knows, to listen is gift...

You, whose morning smile beams like sunshine...I lift the blankets, and you reveal the curves that define a classic beauty, a vibrant vixen. Yes, we are aging, but the fire in our hearts burns brighter than today's oh-so-black-and-cut-me-here youth. We bounce with laughter, letting each bird song have its place in our life. We relax in the knowledge that NOW is what counts. To learn all this now is a blessing. To finally act, instead of endless teasing, to give one's soul -- again -- to the belief in you, us, and the world, bowing to our parents, making way for the next generation, the children of doom. Can we rescue the ideals? Can we hold hands and marvel at our trial balloons? Can we torture our love one more time, right now, on this blanket so warm from the summer sun? Can I love you deeper than the sky and ocean? Can I?

Missing you grows into a pain that your pillow cannot release. I awake, in a fragile state, as if a thin layer of glass, not clear, but etched with the letters of your name, smashes into tiny specks of the rainbow, or a sunset, or a deep and dark lake. Fragile, small and alone. So much comes up on the big, wide movie screen...Your own movie, the constant editing and endless desire to make sense of it all.

Mercury may be in retrograde, but the backpedaling creates a unique space in which one can let go, even further, as chaos reigns, and wanting becomes another eternity. In this tiny speck of your life, the movie is still going, the authentic you, now knowing more but still less than what is necessary for you to reach the ultimate spiritual plateau. Then again, on this hot July day, after you've indulged in so many forbidden rituals, all wrapped up in so much meaning, and yet just another bunch of stuff to let go of. All I can think about right now is holding on to your voluptuous and smooth frame. One day soon...This longing is real, unqualified, unfettered, and utterly and intensely surreal.

 

It is now 2009, we have a black president, my father has died, I've finally moved, and life continues to be a mysterious friend, an experiment in patience and reason, a whimiscal prayer...

February 14th, 2009....

A midnight plea to my distant Valentime...

Remarkable – our love – for its agility,

Its sublime comedy,

Capturing the curiosity of a newborn and unfurling tender leaf

 

We indulge in routines with verve...

(Would you like your tea, newspaper and toast now, Madam?)

And often chirp like preening birdies,

Singing with our feathered friends about yet another new day.

Now, as age is no longer a concept, a question or even an answer,

This weary, nearly plump body

Finds supreme pleasure just calmly cuddling with you

Letting the loud moon wink above us,

And then crashing waves summon...

...something majestic in our hearts

...something that reaches out to briefly touch the falling star

...something so sacred, so safe, so serene.

 

Ultimately, my poet’s soft hands cup both of

Your magical breasts.

Thank You!

You really saw my deep mystical child’s yearning for

These mounds of motherhood and silky milk

What a simple fun bargain for me (and you) to heal.

The Doubt that still damns us, brother and sister of the Great War!

Catholic Rebels,

Genuine romantics from another time

Both mystic and healer, wounded and scared,

Still learning our way, but now getting closer to the top of the mountain. .

 

 

In this empty new home I now know in silence,

I still smell your medicine meals,

See you walking like a darling duck,

Blowing air out of your tired mouth

With a long Hollywood sigh,

(But with winking eyes...)

 

In the infinite sky that collects our dreams infinitum,

I see a constellation of us, laughing

Intertwined like a voluptuous, verdant vine,

A cosmic monument to our living memory,

To our crazy adventure unfolding

In this short, fragile life

(A surrender that will live forever in waves, redwoods and owls)

 

 

I cling to our love like it was God’s favorite candy

My heart throbs in unison with yours tonight though you

Are on the other side of this spinning planet

But I see you now, like a mirage, stirring up smiles.

I devour the yummy divine that is radiating, that is you:

My eternal, delicious and vital Valentine.