Requiem on a Friday Afternoon

Requiem on a Friday Afternoon

Requiem for the masses
Requiem for a dream
And why remember what
we might have been,
who we were in our minds
back then?
How the change parade eroded
while blazing bombs exploded
grasping all we’d ever known
into shards and pain.
Did we gain? Did anyone gain
an iota of grain or water or wine
an aeon more time
to cry in, to more slowly die?
Why hold our trust in
a past that betrayed us?
If no future is nigh
we can still look to the sky
to the stars
to dream.

once more, with feeling

More clear, direct

More substantial

or fantastic

What I need to say

What claws itself out from

some place

that is me.

Sense deeply processed

beneath my consciousness

released not in fleeting dreams —

here and now

What I need to tell you (plural you)

that we all already know,

hear, revile as saccharine sop

to futile reality —

innocent souls, before natality’s tolls,

toils, recriminations, banalities.

Who we have fallen into, become

without preparation or consent.

I so want to convince you (us)

all of a shining destiny

above petty declarations of war.

Craving more, a truth and justice

promised, like Santa Claus,

a human soul that loves, demands

mutual assured aid and comfort,

fulfillment of long sought paradise

because we can.

Lifetime Achievement

What is achieved in a life?

All those moments we live, feel.

Blood pumped,

air inhaled, expelled.

Voices, words that reverberate,

haunt, compel as passion

that won’t let go.

Grasp, if you can, those

floating threads each holding

chapters, stanzas, soul songs

that carried you through

excruciating days, months, years.

See, brilliant achievement,

creation, demons and gods

as needed, a whole world

intricately, intimately


Exquisite beauty –the essence of artistic


Aquarian rant

Ok, we all split into our

supposed safe places, self-affirming

speak against fears of alienation,

attack — valid fears.

Yet, here, we find not safety,

but ever more alienation, attacking,

sniping and escalating out from

each supposed safe zone

into the cold, dark THEM.

When will it truly, deeply,

existentially, occur to us

it’s time to release these bindings,

to become a people bound together

by our common, human needs, hopes,

curiosities, joys?

Trends are saying more and more

of us are dying of loneliness

within this great ocean of possible

companions, friends, loves

we have become too encapsulated

to see.

Bohemian waif

Inner cinema montage

deep echoing adventures,

strikes of color, light, paralysis

held in violent emotion.

A mere babe runs away across

a busy street, hiding beneath bushes,

because she could, demanding


Dark city nights, hugged to

myself, alone

Walking through brick and mortar


past trashcan fires, street community.

Thumb out, shivering icy roads,

or flooded highways, bare foot

scorching desolate insomniac


Haunted explorations, led by that

fantasy aura obfuscating rational view.

Mini romances that cut through,


Across smoking stone overpass,

high to high school AP exam where

the words floated from rakish eye to

#2 pencil, an array of imprinted


Lying in the garden on cotton,

tasting boysenberry yogurt,

hoping the world disappears,

ends here where the bullied

anxiety won’t follow.

Quiet now …

I’ll tell you more on morrow

only Money matters

not life of any color, creed, species,
years on Earth
not Earth
or any Universe
not love or fun, not hate or pain
or pain’s relief
not death or grief
not work that means a better future
strived for or a better now of peace,
creative play
We have given all of value away,
only give heed to
this one devised deity man made
to keep other people at bay


Curled up inside, becoming me who lives
within this song
where all it makes me yearn for is mine.
A simple song
with words that hurt like memories
lilting tune to carry you along
somehow devastating me
playing again and again
taking me over
reliving those moments
the music exposes,
back there and then
while drifting through now.

this side of the veil

This random holiday we call life
can feel tricky, a mystery to be
unveiled through daring travels
that map our trails.
Blessings of memories, to feel
again and still
winters’ brutal chill,
blanketed, in warmth –  cocoa, love
of family discovered,
within healing web of friends.
This Side of the Veil
As I grow older, so many beloved people disappear,
beyond the veil, they say, into a better place
of endless peace.
We find ourselves here in life, each with our mission,
skills realized as we advance along our separate paths
that lead to the same destination, that shimmering veil
we can’t perceive beyond, screen upon which we paint
silhouettes of mystery.
Traveling winding paths, we meet, become, with time,
beloved, joined in gifts, fears, celebrations.
Who we are expands through inclusion, evolves
greater awareness, entwines bonds to humanity.
It’s this side of the veil where we choose who
those we leave behind will remember us to be.
It’s this side of the veil where we may
worship Earthly blessings, days to dance with
the Sun, come together to face mysteries,
dark nights to raise above;
where we devise solace of humor, simple fun,
the rush of touch.
It’s this side of the veil where we wonder,
play out mosaic stories, sing ritual reflections,
dance madly stretching, find inside our rendition
of humanity, express each our special light
along the line.
And this side where ultimate grief resides.
This side where we choose to pretend or truly
make amends for careless ignorance, mad cruelty,
take active stand against spreading pain and
dangerous lies.
It’s this side, here in our hands, crackling through
our imaginations, vast possibilities as yet unseen,
ours to grasp while hands we have.
Do you know those moments closer to the veil,
revealing shadow dance through sacred space,
liminal embrace of ecstatic empathy when
vibrations echo, reverberate, send ripples dancing
through the veil?

flower moon meditation

flower moon
I will be fine.  We will be fine.
Every manner of thing will be fine.
Heavens of sunshine will open and flow
through our homes, through our souls,
through our Earth.
Life giving water will hydrate the fields,
replenish the lakes and streams,
delight our throats and skin,
revivify mirth and hope.
Throw all your cares into fresh air;
dance to a rousing tune.
What is the point of this time if we’re
always dying, denying true being?
What can we answer when asked:
What did it mean?  What did you see?
Running in panic, not for the fun
of feeling legs rise and fall.
Running away as if there is somewhere
to go.
Stop.  Take stock.  Breathe inspiration.
Do the real work that needs to be done.
Work smart, not hard; merge work with fun.
Find the folks whose humor works with yours
and share the chores, like child’s play.
Day by day by day, we will be fine.
Every manner of thing will be fine.
I will be fine.