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Category Archives: Existential

Redemption Dove ~>

     Oh mourning dove, sing to me this evening in the last glow of sunset —so clear and so resound in song —with hope for me to remember what was lost, now if sought, could be found. You echo through the forest, on the edge of fields, sidewalks, and across the parks.

      I open my window wrapping myself in my sheet and blanket as I sink into my pillow. I close my eyes to hear your song. Falling asleep, I understand your repetitive melodic low-high pitched notes, as I move through age.

      I listen to sounds about my life; with its many ups and downs. Finding in your chorus, a gift of an early morning spirit, that has forgotten yesterday —woo,  WOO, wooing, into a ‘morrow, without the cloak of fear.

Large black crows in flight

carnivorous in their plight

                               landing —find new life.

 

*Please Note: …By virtue of their melancholy call, mourning doves have been fittingly named. Their distinctive “wooo-oo-oo-oo” sounds may evoke a feeling of grief over the loss of a dearly beloved.

But far from representing death, the symbolism of mourning doves gives us optimism with its spirituality. Beyond their sorrowful song is a message of life, hope, renewal and peace.

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Last Evening’s Dream

 

Dawn flirts the tips of yawning waking leaves.

My eyes catch sunlight, rising from an open window.

A hundred morning creases peak through the linen

above smooth sheets. I light a cigarette from across the room,

watching you sleeping, bathe in the first morning’s sunbeam.

I saw you, still smiling, rumpled and stretching out last evening’s dream.

 
17 Comments

Posted by on May 12, 2018 in Beginnings, Erotica, Existential, Love, Poetry, thoughts, Zen

 

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Love’s Illusion~ rev:71a

     

Yes, Love, I was born with the first waxing moon.

Bald, without a thought for a tea’s afternoon;

—we embraced, dancing in every crook and cranny of my mind,

only to find myself as no one, and finding no place there.

~~~~

Oh failing heart, why did you forgo me?

To enter space where I would thirst?

Then, drowned me in a sea of deserts bleached sand.

Perhaps, in the essence of  moonlight and sunlight

—I will find You, where their lights both meet, and see

 what I have never lost nor have ever found.

 
 

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Music’s Universal Smile

[Written at The Quebec, Canada… Music Festival 2002]

Music’s Universal Smile

 

The Crowd, listening, heads bobbing up and down

with the strings of the guitars, bass and drums filling the air

with frantic jazz chords in intermittent “Bings”

Of harmonics, are silent;

 

a gentleman, as old as the granite steps I sit on,

conducts the bands with an imaginary wand;

 seamlessly with a smooth frenzy, while dancing in place

from mid-day, when the music starts to play

until dusk.

 

The beating of the souls, finally engulfed

In one rhythm, look up and join the gentleman;

As they withdraw exhausted and with applause

wearing music’s universal smile.

 
18 Comments

Posted by on April 8, 2018 in Existential, Love, Poetry, Zen

 

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Notes Found On The Refrigerator March 2018

I don’t want to do the dishes!

Screw it!

I have a saved pocketed packet—

from Wendy’s four for four dollars;

salt and pepper, fork, and a napkin.

I’ll eat out of the can.

     *****

They complained I stayed in bed all day.

That’s not true.

I get up to eat

and go to the bathroom.

     *****

[Chorus]

I have spent my life pleasing others

Whether friends, lovers, or out of respectability.

I did it without regret for the experiences.

 

Finding a self, by its self

In the grace of Mystery in an unknowing cloud

I now, have to learn how, to please myself

—without offending another.

     *****

I remember when I would waddle like a duck

—but being a Quack wasn’t always fun 😊

     *****

Repeat [Chorus]

 
13 Comments

Posted by on March 31, 2018 in Existential, Friendship, Life, Love, Prose Poetry, Zen

 

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The Gift Of Free Will At Sunrise

      I shall not seek Thee —in a stiff collar of white or colorless turbine. Or, robes of wool…covering skin dark or light over bones disguised in cloaks of Yellow, Orange, Brown, and lest not we forget Cremora White!

      —You have no need to convince me of the fig leaf on my soul! I have acknowledged its presence. I will find its place in the empty void.

      I shall find You —by going forward and leaving me alone.

In valley below

winter thaws upcoming spring

On Holderness Road

 

 
 

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“Pensées sur “l’être et le néant”

(Thoughts on “Being and nothingness” Jean-Paul Sartre)

In late afternoons, the winter sun slips

through a hazy kitchen window —casting a small bright light

on the wooden floor.

Some days I walk around it.

Some days I walk through it.

Some days, I never even see it!

Then —there are some days when I spot it.

I pick it up —and put it in my shirt pocket;

the one closes to my heart,

collecting warm engagements for my upcoming spring.

~~~~~

Owl’s nest sits high in the shadow of a branch

Wind flickers in glint moonlight through the leaves

—of the predator’s eyes.

Prey —feasting on ignorance,

feeds on “chance.”

Unaware of their “self’s” demise.

Sun light? —To either of them?

Is always an enlightened surprise.

~~~~~

 
21 Comments

Posted by on January 27, 2018 in Existential, Poetry, Sartre

 

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