Category Archives: ANN ARBOR

16/01/2016 · 7:40 am

Birthday… a pantoum


My new year turns again with the Sun return.  I return here to share again .   Thanks for reading.

2015-11-21 18.23.06-2

They come with the speed of light in the getting older

That day that celebrates a full turn around the Sun

When all the planets align in some celestial order

And one more year checks itself into your body

~

That day that celebrates a full turn around the Sun

Time as it is understood in Earth’s gravity language

And one more year checks itself into your body

And the waiting of how the end will come to find you

~

Time as it is understood in the Earth’s gravity language

Makes no real difference in how the years will etch into you

And the waiting of how the end will come to find you

Breathing holds us all in the box of living

~

Makes no real difference in how the years will etch into you

When all the planets align in some celestial order

Breathing holds us all in the box of living

They come with the speed of light in the getting older

~

All work here is Copy write.   Please ask to share ..

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Filed under A Pilgrams Journey, a poem a day. Michigan poet, a sacred life, ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW, pantoum, Resurrection

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16/06/2015 · 8:55 am

THE SKY HAS BEEN CRYING FOR DAYS


I 94 Outside of Chelsea, mi

I 94 Outside of Chelsea, mi

I 94 MICHIGAN

I 94 MICHIGAN

In my little part of the MidWest, it’s been raining and raining, and then raining some more.

There is so much goodness in the rain;  the way the thunder rolls right through you, energizing.

The way those clouds gather and grey in the vast turbulence, bursting with storm.

Rain is a desired want for so many places on the Earth.  It comes to some and not to others.

Like too much humidity in the summer that I really am not fond of, I hesitate to critique the rain’s giving.

And… I’m ready for the clouds to open to blue and the sun’s more tender touch to the earth.

I want a whisper of cool breeze all over me.

So… these are my poems for these rainy days…

~~~~~~~

The sky has been crying for days

Laid it’s flood all over the land

Surely those crocodile tears come

from a galactic belly laugh at us

fools held to gravities pull of the

Earth’s collaboration with the Heavens

~~~~~

A Pantoum…

The sky has been crying for days

Giving giant heaving belly laughs

Profound thunderous sobs of grief

Earth collaborates with the Heavens

Giant heaving belly laughs

When the world isn’t being comical

Earth collaborates with the Heavens

Seeking joy and goodness in the wherever

When the world isn’t being comical

When desperation, hunger, and war win

Seeking joy and goodness in the wherever

There is enough of everything for everyone

When desperation, hunger and war win

Profound, thunderous sobs of grief

There IS enough of everything for everyone

The sky has been crying for days

~~~~

HAIKU

The sky cries for days

Poems gather in the tearing

Flooding shares herself

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Filed under A Pilgrams Journey, a poem a day. Michigan poet, ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW, HAIKU, Iphone photos, Michigan rains, pantoum, rainy days

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14/04/2015 · 8:15 pm

The Hard and EAse of Flow


adams mouth hurrican2

Haiku

Flow is not working

Paradox of opposites

Oxymoron sky

~

And then some

~

There is sense to a flow

that gives to a natural ease

When going with the flow

finds calm in each moment

.

Till the application of Hard comes

And what was finding ease

Finds velocity by disruption

.

or maybe worse

.

Stagnation pools at your feet

wrapped in a morbid stench

of passivity going no-where

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Filed under A Pilgrams Journey, Abbey of the arts., ANN ARBOR, FLow, GeezerGirl., NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, Ypsilanti Poet

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08/04/2015 · 11:43 pm

Yes against all Odds


Heart hand n mouth

A futile No rises to all that is Yes

When the battered down starves

The slow climb back to the good self

.

Such thirst for that dried cracked tongue

That has let silence erode life’s sweetness

Drained the landscape of the self, desert dry

.

If only the clouds could burst from

Eyes that lost their tears long ago

Despair took all the wet hope of Yes away

.

The river is not that far of a crawl

Let that last stir of Yes stand you tall

And run naked from the barren hostile

.

Of your doubt and terror that holds you

Hostage, make the relent a heart’s truth

Lay your Yes against fear’s hard No

.

Rises to the Yes that has always marked

The Champions highest quest

To the Grail that’s never been

.

Further away than right here

Close to the soul’s truth and

The promise of every moment

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Filed under A pligrams journey, Abbey of the arts., ANN ARBOR, ASCENSION, MICHIGAN POET, The soul knows

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04/04/2015 · 6:48 pm

Haiku for these Days.


Wholy Grail.

Wholy Grail.

Make all your days Good

Each moment a resurrection

The Full moon rises

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, APRIL FOOL, BE HERE NOW, Blood MOON, full moon, MICHIGAN POET, Resurrection, SPRING

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12/03/2015 · 8:56 am

THE ALL WRONG THINKS TO RIGHT ITself… a pantoum


I said to my friend the the other night in some jabber about life, “It sets me right and I do it wrong”.  I captured that little one-liner on to paper and thought that I’d take it and make a poem out of it.  This is that poem.  The think(g) is, is that I couldn’t use that line in it’s exactness.  As you see, I changed it.  I switched it around.  I didn’t at first.  I did start this Pantoum with it exactly as I said it, deciding as I came to closure with it that I needed to switch right and wrong around.  (what a concept)  Not for any poetic justice to the poem, more that I want to set wrong to right in a very personal sense, rather than the other way around.  I could feel it in my body my resistance to it all.  That purest point of view that rattles in the head about … ya, that right/wrong thing.

Tho’ right, like every other concept of belief around it, can be as wrong to another as the right can be, the relativity of it quirked me out.  So… here ya have it.  Go ahead and stick that original sentence in the first and last line and see what you feel/think about it.

Dscn0014

The All Wrong Thinks to Right Itself

I set me all wrong thinking to do it right

There in lives the story line of despairing thought

While the ego dances without a leg to stand on

Mythology makes wild all the untruths of perception

~~

There in lives the story line of despairing thought

Resistance shutters and spews against the chain hold mind warp

Mythology makes wild all the untruths of perception

There is nothing unknown to all that has always been known

~~

Resistance shutters and spews against the chain hold mind warp

Illusion gathers with greatness, feeding on every thought

There is nothing unknown to All that has always been known

The wake up call has the alarm set on constant chime

~~

Illusion gathers with greatness, feeding on every thought

The cradle rocks and rolls you back to sleepless dreaming

The wake up call has the alarm set on constant chime

Never believe that it is ever too late in the Infinite

~~

The cradle rocks and rolls you back to sleepless dreaming

While the ego dances without a leg to stand on

Never believe that it is ever too late in the Infinite

I set me all wrong thinking to do it right

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, ASCENSION, BE HERE NOW, EYES WIDE OPEN, found language, NAPOWRIMO, pantoum

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20/02/2015 · 9:31 am

Poems in the coffee shop: Conspicuous pronouncements.


It’s bitter cold here, -20F.  Not that that has anything to do with these poems I’m sharing, I wanted you to know that.  

Anyway,  I was with my journal, passing into one of my favorite local coffee shops, Mighty Good, in Ann Arbor for about 20 minutes before work.    I ordered a ‘Dirty’ Chai latte, (dirty is always preferred, filthy dirty would be better) and sat in one of two empty tables in the center of the room that was for 8 people rather than one.  I did feel conspicuous. What’s new and …Oh well.

I let myself peruse the room, without staring, trying to be non-invasive;  It seemed the right thing to do, even though I wanted to do some staring and scrutinizing.  Everyone was being very invested into their computer, tapping and scrolling away, mostly ignoring the rest of life around them.  Most everyone was single and alone at a table.

Other than me, there was only one other person not on the computer, and he was writing music; tapping his pencil ever so lightly on the table. He was with his wife.  How did I know she was his wife?  She was actively chatting to someone on the phone declaring him as her husband for some kind of bill they were figuring out.   He, lifting his head, with affirmative nods while she spoke, still tapping some soft rythmn.

These poems are what rolled out of me in those 20 minutes of being conspicuous.

poem mighty good

Finding ease in the shiver

The freeze grabs at the inhales

Pulling up the inner heat

Exhaling a quick warmth

soon to crystalize

A mask of breath

a suspended pause

held to the minus

A blur to the distances

falling like a light snow

~~~~

There’s no kidding

You never lost your

childhood flair

for knowing

It All.

Hard to believe

there is a limit

to All.

Perception has a way

of making the world

very small

I wonder if you

can even stand

in that little space

You call larger

than life.

Your life is so small.

~~~~~

I’m the only one of twenty

I’m not on my computer

I see him, writing music

composition of notes floating

in song across the paper

Music wins

~~~~

The notes of life

Sharp and flat

dissident

You could change

your tune

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12/01/2015 · 2:13 pm

Trees breathe in starlight… found language.


I stole the first line of this poem from the quote below.  “Trees breathe in starlight…”  I found it lovely and magical.  I don’t think I’m done writing about it yet.  And this little poem feels just right right now.

IMG_3297winter in michigan.  A hoarfrost.

Trees breathe in starlight

The shimmer of the Milky Way

A dance of constellations

A rhythmic pulse of night glitter

Pulled down and in

held in bark and limb

twig and leaf

Seed and stem

The inhale of constellations

from all that Infinite

goes to root

And the Earth

feeds on heavenly

Light

“You know why trees smell the way they do? Stars. Trees breathe in starlight year after year, and it goes deep into their bones. So when you cut a tree open, you smell a hundred years’ worth of light. Ancient starlight that took millions of years to reach earth. That’s why trees smell so beautiful and old.”

Frances O’Roark Dowell.

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Filed under ANN ARBOR, BE HERE NOW, EARTH CHANGES, found language, HAPPINESS, Hoar frost, Winter poem

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09/04/2014 · 8:36 am

Treats In My Pocket


day 9, NaPoWriMo..

IMG_3814

 

My pockets all have puppy treats in them

This Winter baby found me this Spring

In the ridiculously cuteness of mask

and black and white fluff

 

The Romanians had him in Inkster

Cozied up with his litter mates

Deciding which way to wiggle and wag

Racing for the pile of microwaved hotdogs

 

In who gets in first wins that load of process

With the piddles on the floor wiped fast away

In the flurry of fur in and out of that crate

A tumble of puppies in the unsure of it all.

 

We call it a litter only now I think it’s a tumble

A Tumble of puppies all over themselves for the

food win.  For the attention getters, for the love.

For me to add puppy treats to all my pockets

 

In the praise, in the training, in the just because

you’re the cutest damn little puppy I have ever seen

and I want all that wagging, bright eyed goodness

all over me as often as possible.

 

My pockets all have puppy treats in them

The weight of them is slight and I jiggle them

in my fingers as we walk the new walk down

the street in this new to you neighborhood.

 

Of smells and leaves and Spring greening

Of new sounds and the intense alertness that

you have of the world around you in the trot

and pride of ownership of this street.

 

We get to know each others ways and in the days

that come there will always be treats of praise and love

jiggling in my fingers in my pockets, as we

jaunt together smelling the good Earth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling very grateful..

 

 

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03/04/2014 · 11:27 am

WINTER’S RELEASE


 

 

FEILD FOG

 

There is a wait still in the woods
Bare of leaf, naked to the wind’s whistle
The carpet of white chill feeding slow the earth
In the melt for Springs release of green

It’s in this wind’s whistle that the smell rises
A damp release from last season’s leafy loam exposed
Given to the Sun in the long linger of winter ending
Heating up roots and wakening the slow flow of life inside

If you stand silent in the listen of life’s resurrection
There is a tremble to the earth to this awakening
As if the roots laid deep in the dark make a stretch, a push
A spasm in the warming earth’s call to return

There is a fever in every Spring coming
The end of winter’s quietude, a heating up, a call to life
That hunger for Sun light, the melt, and the blessing of rain.
The want to be reborn, in the excite of Springs call to Summer

I can smell the soon of it in these waiting woods for green
On this wet path of melting snow, with the wind in my ears
Calling me to my own greening and coming to life.
Releasing Winter’s hold.

 

Day 3.. NaPoWriMo.

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