~The poet uses the butterfly net of language to catch fleeting images in mid-flight~

Monday, March 28, 2011

Essence of Sandalwood

As I contemplate
What I am about to write,
I stop to notice
The curling smoke
Of the incense
Just lit.
In its every movement,
There is grace,
As if touched
By a whispered breeze
From most gentle
And elegant lips.
These caresses
Leave elastic reflections
And supple images,
In arching tumbles,
Plaintiff stretches,
And humble bends.
Divine Yoga!
Whose formulas,
Freed from regimen,
Cannot be known.
And in the lapse
Of an inquiring moment,
The beauty is already done.

Monday, March 21, 2011


Blank page staring,
Staring at me.
Yet I am the author
Striving to be.
Words cross my mind
But travel not through the heart.
Without a beginning,
How can I start?

Blank page staring,
Staring at me.
I’m wracking my brains
But it’s as empty as can be.
I peel off the lines
To find the hidden proof
Yet, there the page remains
Naked, empty, aloof.

Blank page staring,
Staring at me.
Is this how Hamlet felt
Reduced to a soliloquy?
Round and round the head
But never on the page.
This writer’s curse
Has locked me in a cage.

Blank page staring,
Staring at me.
Why is it that I capture
Not one profundity?
Has my mind gone empty
To match the page?
Or could this dearth
Bring forth a Sage?

Blank page staring,
Staring at me.
Maybe it would be better
Just to let you be free.
Not to encumber your space
To satisfy my pride
And bend to whispered words
On which all pretensions glide.

Blank page staring,
Staring at me.
Perhaps I’m guilty
Of some iniquity.
Did I pump out words
Like a whore throws looks?
Maybe what the world needs
Is more trees and less books.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


Is it lucky
That the sun comes up every morning?
Or that you happen to be
There to witness it?
How many sunrises
Have happened in your life?
And how many excuses do you have
For missing most of them?
I think you have been lucky
To see a few sunrises
In spite of your sleepiness.
The miracles of Life keep slipping by
Like the mighty Mohawk flowing.
Last night, at sunset, I saw the herons there
Pierce the violet penumbra of ebbing light.
I saw the ducks skate on the river,
Making soft landings.
No one else was there
But Beauty draws me irresistibly
Toward its next encore.
Tomorrow’s sunrise
Will bring another opportunity.
Maybe you’ll get lucky!

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

A Penny for Your Thoughts

Mommy, what would happen
If I went to sleep and never woke up?
Would the stars still shine?
Would the sun come up?
Would my brothers and sisters still want to fight?
Would the mailman run from the dog that bites?
Mommy, what would happen
If I went to sleep and never woke up?
Would they still have school
Or would they board her up?
And what would the janitor do if I wasn’t around?
Would he still sweep the halls
And pick up trash from the ground?
And Mommy, if I slept too long,
Where would I go?
Would I fly off like the birds
Or would I just lie there like snow?
What would really happen
If I went to sleep and never woke up?
Remember when Uncle Nick fell down
And he never got up?
And the ambulance came and took him away?
He’s never been back
But I still have so many things to say.
He used to take me on walks.
And we’d find quarters on the ground.
And then he’d buy me ice cream.
I’m really sad that he’s not around.
Mommy, what would happen
If I went to sleep and never woke up?
Would I ride off to heaven on horses that gallop?
And when I got there,
What would I find?
Lots of old people, some mean and some kind?
I’m asking you, Mom,
‘Cause I really don’t know.
But most of all,
I don’t want you to go.
Mom, do you think that I’m worrying too much?
It’s just that when I’m alone at night,
I’m missing your touch.
I don’t think I ever want to grow up.
Mommy, what would happen
If I went to sleep and never woke up?