crossing the utah border

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home made me think of home
now i wonder where is it?
when i am traveling
my center rests above and just behind the whirr of a flying machine

sometimes, as when it rains or storms
all of the rest of me extends to create a shield
to deal softly with the threatening elements
protecting me from the ragged edges of their fury
while allowing me to be absorbed into the center of their splendor

splendor

i almost wouldn’t use the word
but it so vividly describes being inside a ravaging hailstorm
with a double rainbow setting down twenty miles due south of me
and my flying machine
as we spin seventy miles per hour worth of water off the back tire
as a quarter inch of that water floats us a quarter inch above that east bound highway

that was ‘crossing the utah border’ by stephanie . it just created itself for you to provide an image for your senses

maybe this purple pen really works

80s . from a letter

to america

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somebody wrote the blues one day . goes like this …

somebody wrote the words to the song
about a love walked out the door
but i can’t sing about a love got lost
i’m not sure there’s gonna be a world to make love in anymore

got us a new president
used to play with guns when he was just a little boy

says we’ve got to keep up with the soviets
wants to build bombs while we all keep score
lemme tell you what his toys’ll cost
if we don’t stop him soon, he’s gonna get us into the final war

we send money to those ‘third world’ countries
to ‘promote democracy’

we pay our tax then watch our government
just shut their eyes and pick a side
now i turn and ask those elected men
how come back in vietnam all those innocent people died

i turn my eyes to el salvador
so many people dying every day

i feel like we need to take control
where our arms and monies are supplied
if we send our war toys to el salvador
we’re financing the juntas’ game … juntas’ game of genocide

i said we need to take control
because if we don’t soon, there’s not gonna be a world to make love in anymore

79 or 80

to catherine

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i remember you ahead of me as you walked up that ol’ hill
thought i saw you dancing, you never were one to sit still
every song my voice is calling you saying please don’t die
every dream where you appear to me there’s that glimmer in your eye
impatience in your sigh

and there’s this child . she’s got your rumble in her soul
she’s always moving, but won’t be told where to go
a will just like a freight train . her love pours down like steady rain
and those same blue eyes

at times when you inspired me to more than i believed
somehow my feet kept up with yours, my pain reactors were deceived
it’s all that i can do these days to reach out and reclaim
that balance of my sorrow with the joy i feel
when calling out your name

this child …

i left you in frustration, misunderstanding what you said
the pain that wracked my body had made confusion in my head
we worked our last mistakes out through the mail and telephone
and i thought i’d see you often after i heard that dial tone

a daughter was delivered during that time i spent with you
i knew that she was coming but didn’t know what she would do
this wonder that i speak of, she is precious to behold
i hope that you are watching, as in your image she unfolds

there’s this child …

 

87 for catherine freer . when ruby was born

 

creek mary’s blood

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red womin

pain runs from those ancient eyes
strong as a tree grows tall, you thought you’d seen it all
but the white man has brought one more surprise

red womin

you hold your grandchild in your arms
she didn’t feel the pain, but all her blood’s been drained
by the white man’s charms
moved in upon you without warning, they pushed you from your land
you could’ve given up or run, but you chose to take a stand
they left your warrior lying dead beside you with a treaty in his hand

black womin

your children labor in the sun
you look to the sky and plea for the day you can all be free
but the white man holds a gun

black womin

from dawn ’til dark you work the fields
then when the night time comes, the white man takes you in his arms
just to save your life, you yield
somehow you have no freedom, you’ll work until you die
dying won’t come easy . you’ll suffer and you won’t know why
all your hopes are for your children’s children : they’ll escape the white man’s lie

80s after reading creek mary’s blood by dee brown

 

tell me mama

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tell me mama about the war

what did the pirates have in store

how are the revolutionaries gonna hurt me

when i can’t even be free

 

tell me mama about the bad guys

and how pollution hurts your eyes

tell me please, what can i do

so i don’t end up like you

 

i wanna live for right now, and not worry about yesterday

i wanna live in happiness, and i always want to say

that i am free and i am me

 

tell me mama about depression

tell me also of your confession

of never being what you want to be

of never wanting me to make you see

 

tell me mama of fear and strife

tell me, please, of your whole life

let me be the one to say what i feel

let me decide for myself what’s real

 

69?

mister

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you can beat your wife, mister . you can beat your children, too

you can even take her life, mister . it will all come back to you

you can hassle us at work, mister . even make us do your chores

you can try to take our job, mister . we won’t let you close the door

we are women, and you can’t keep us down

 

you can line us up for battle, mister . but you’ll sit and watch us bleed

put a gun into my hand, mister . we won’t fight for what we do not need

you can build the biggest bombs, mister . send them flying through the air

when you’re left here feeling sad, mister, there’ll be no one left to care

we are your children, and we don’t need your wars

 

winter park early 80s

 

 

breath of the wind

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i am a leaf

you are a breath of the wind

that keeps me floating above the routine of the earth

i am a leaf

i am a bird

you are a breath of the wind

that keeps me flying in the clouds above the mountain peaks

i am bird

flying . flying

i am a tree

you are a breath of the wind

that keeps me dancing to the music in my veins

i am a tree

i am a spirit

you are a breath of the wind

 

80s

 

runaway skis

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i got my hat . got my warm shoes

that white stuff is falling but i still have the blues

i can’t go out and play

the snow’s in colorado, but my skis are in l.a.

i look in the basement, check the lost & found

write it up in the want ads but it’s still got me down

looks like those boards found their own set of keys

doesn’t anybody know what happened to my ol’ runaway skis?

 

that fine white powder is piled up to my nose

the driest and deepest and fastest as snow goes

it’s academic . if snow was water we’d all drown

then you call me up, jackie and tell me my skis are in your home town

i travel ’round the country, i travel far and wide

but i still don’t know how my skis got to be on your side

i like california but l.a.’s got the wrong kind o’ snow

so won’t you pack up those skis and point them to colorado

 

80s

 

 

 

the roots are waiting

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the mist is rolling in . i can feel it on my skin
there’s nothing we can do but watch the new season begin
the sun is acting shy . i think that i know why
the clouds are gathering together up there in the sky
********
they seem to have a plan that’ll change the shape of land
i’m starting to remember this is how the floods began
with cumolo strength gain, drizzle turns to rain
then nimbus makes her entry known, creating my refrain
********
do you see the clouds accumulating?
are you sad that summer’s nearly gone?
don’t you know that all the roots are waiting?
without rain we would’ve never heard this song
********
longer nights are here . it’s nothing we should fear
more time to gaze at twinkling stars . we see this every year
trees are changing hue : it happens right on cue
as clouds begin to hide the sky, the colors make the view
********
did you notice the equinox approaching
as we floated down the river in the sun?
chilly air of autumn is encroaching
and the watering of roots has just begun
********
the mist is rolling in .. .. .. .. ..
the mist is rolling in .. .. .. .. ..
the mist is rolling in .. .. .. .. the roots are waiting

© 10.13.24

on that train

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if i was a young man again
would i put myself on that train
that took me from you

when we were young and in love
i knew it was forever
during the war as a soldier
i waited for your letters
that didn’t come

you must have sent letters it seems
or at least you did in my dreams

when i returned, i married
we raised up a child
my daughter is grown and my loving wife
long since has died

and i think of you