Realization

for Ann Anderson

I’ve come to an uneasy peace running from the past
Where voices speak your name
You living ghost come out of darkness
Blinding me with joy only animals know.

I was your toy, a thing nearly real
For love ever is
But marriage is money in the big city
And a soldier’s son
Was unwelcome to a physician’s fair daughter
Lady Anne of quiet beauty, love of you nearly killed me.

Where are you, barbed eyes, sex like E
Raw love of a man
Ruin of my youth locked in my arms?
So foolishly cunt-struck was I
I’d have killed for you
Like some kill for gold or dreams
I had none, only love, pathetic love–

Nights on a sea cliff
Where the waves thundered invitations!
What a scar I might have left
But I could not in any way harm you–
As you flew out of the city
Forever away from me
I felt you sitting next to me in my car
I guess you were
Floating over me, I turned and said your name.

Celtic Tree of Life

Native Love Song

Come, my love, there is work to be done
then we will sing.

Why are you sad?

When you walk with me, the corn is ripe
the river song sounds in our ears
the wolf is high in the mountain
the eagle and I are brothers.

Why do you worry?

Your gait excites the young warriors
You charm me more than your sisters
Your path is full of my footprints
Your father waits in his dwelling
Your mother knows.

Why do you doubt, you know I am yours.

Come, my love, there is work to be done
then we will sing.

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To a Friend Who When I Asked How She Was After The Pulse Massacre Replied, “Just shoot me too.”

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Will you smile real pretty when I pull the trigger?
Will you let a squadron of dragonflies carry you
By your nipples and hair into a green forgetful sky
By your toes, your nose, the white fuzz on your ears?
You will forget the red and blue years
Sailing a typhoon of moonlight, money and mercy
Mercy for queers, money for roses, so many
You can give one to every hobo-drunk in the world
And ten for me, your god-forsaken rebel.
If I whirl a twister of wishes and dreams
To right the wrongs we have brought upon our children
All the animals and insects gone to extinction
If I gather the lint from our toes, sox, bras, underwear
Into a sudden mighty wind and knock the leaders
Kings and tycoons off their murderous feet for good
To say there is something very different from
What they promise and what we get, my dear
Will you smile, will you smile, will you smile real pretty?

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In the Garden

for Anne

Sweetness and light and appetite
That’s what you are,
The hunger of spring, the wonder and sound
Under ice underground
Of crocus pushing through snow
You must know

I’ll sing you to knowing
In winter dark, darkness deep as my own lost soul
You are breaking through
The mad caress
Of a dragonfly wing on a rose
No one knows but you and I our bodies a secret
fiery dawn, indigo flame of the morning-glory

Be that, be who you are and in so doing
Lighten my nights
Shine, glow, glitter into song
Sing with the cricket under the sill
For me alone
For I alone have listened
Centuries long, and am listening still.

 

 

 

Campers

 Campers

Tiny thing, little being cricket, so mundane

But where two become a thousand
Music fills the canyon, “We are here,
We are here!” for territory, hunger and love
The crickets sing—
And from darkness as we breathe to
The outer edge of heaven, how many beings
Breathe with us, how many stars
Burn ’round us–

Far from the all-seeing god of church
Far from the sound of gunshots in town
As the last sparks rise like little stars
About our campfire, I know you here
I want you near, saying
Yes, Yes, We are here, my love.

Misting waterfall, redwoods trees
Did you walk with me through these
The coral and blue summer-deep dawn
New mountains lifting old seas, here
A billion and two stars moving above
A thousand crickets singing, just we two–
And I don’t even like camping, seriously
I hate it– oh what a man won’t do for love.

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