there might be other things to do,
here and there
i do them.
but the writing always returns
comes home to me somehow
in a poem read in spanish
or the cat's wise whisker's shake
the craziest moments herald
the return of the writer in me
small moments, large
observing the day
as the sun shifts
and shadows suddenly fall
differently
on the pavement
in the house
in a smoking coffee house bar
the sun reminds me
how impossible it is to say
so many sculpted moment things
and how breathing and eating
and poetry words
pulse through my veins
to when all that's left
is the breath of a word
eating away at a page.

all that knowledge out there is comforting
it takes you by the hand
and gently guides you through the darkness
of what you know
but forgot to remember

there's all these words
waiting to happen
and they fall on the pages
as i ride on the poems
spinning them out of control
all the words
the many words
tumbling easy
free from constraints
of my misunderstanding
untouched by thinking thoughts

perfect
as the black word wipes
the white light off the page
they go.

last night i was my younger self
a little boy who knew the ghosts
i would once find within myself
i did acorbatics down the balcony rain pipe
at my grandmother's house
and in some exotic future home
i scratched my spirit's evidence
out from the keyhole of the terrace door.

i awake to find my post dream slumber
has me in a new day shell
where i was who i was yesterday
and am a new man today
this morning
like any morning
i find i am never the same again
experience after experience
night after night of dreams
my face gets older
but a new self is born fresh
with each day break,
every emerging sun.

it can happen at any moment
in any place it seems
when the music memory hits
and suddenly i swim
somewhere i'd rather be.
it is not our physical world that's home
like everyone tries to tell us.
it is nina simone fluctuating
or tracy chapman
singing like i was sixteen once
or michael ormiston's overtone soundscapes
which take me further than i've ever been.

or now
sharing a drink they call loneliness
by a band i don't know
sung before on a moment i forget
in a bar
drinking beer
a slight head cold taunting.
i'm home again
when suddenly gravity's gone
and all the aching's drifting
drifting slowly away.

the other people's lives intrigue me
as they move around my daily life.
they glance at me
as i glance at them
and then our eyes let go
moving off
to a next glance
or home
perhaps
to digest it all.

in the morning the rain falls softly
but batters the windows to my soul
a veil of tears that blotch
the clear sailing visions of the night
where in my raft upon the dreams
i could be anywhere at once
go nowhere with intention
have nothing as a goal.

here now
i open shutters on the street
see dog shit disintigrate
under gray rain
which extends beyond what i can see.
time is held suspended
quietly
the rain makes no sound
the cold is silent
even the wind is shushed.
but braving the elements
of this dread
of that, i anticipate
volumes will be said.

i think its time
to move upstairs
to where i sleep.
wallow away in a stream of voyager journeys
light years away from home.
dream of finding belonging
in the embracing arms of stars.
nestle deep within
the quirky quantum quarks.
fold and unfold
instantly jumping
in the zero point field
of reality.
meet new people
discuss our lives
with friends separated by oceans
and just a few more days.
there's so much more
to look forward to
when the expectation's low
and lucid dreaming a distant
idea unfathomable to waking eyes
that gaze through slits of perception.
i'll close them now and
sink away into that lumpy pillow case
and see where tonight's adventures lead
into a newer day tomorrow.

speaking in bed
to myself
from the morning slumber
the crusty eyes waking
scratching in a wipe
i think too much
too many.

i need to take it with a grain of salt
and with a spoon of sugar.

i love this life i lead
i say
embarrassed at the surrounding luxury
but hey
i was born here
and i smile.
i toss my bell of hair
irrelevantly
but i do so nonetheless
i smile
and remember the che smile
i fell in love with earlier on a motorbike
and whispering sweet things
in good air charm
and hmmm
sigh.
let my only demand
for the lap of love
be such a smile to wake to
and i love this life i lead
because i've seen it
this smile which leads me
searching
for the greener grassier plains
of even happier
future days.