Sunday, January 30, 2011

endover epitaph

How do we roll over?
Is this the end?
Is it over?

How to say it all
Nathan Woodsin one day:
in the darkness
where we only feign sleep

How the coffee tastes
better before
they get up

How cold, her egg
his cereal
their bagels

How the words choked off:
Please look over the choices
keeping us safe

How the rain on the car
or the sun on the walk
seemed unending

How the motocross racer
with the most wins, passed,
rolling end-overs


In honor of those who truly take risks, do their best, fight the odds to win, and love their careers, families and friends. 
In honor of Nathan Woods, who died this week in a practice jump before the World Off Road Championship Series in Calif.  He won the WORCS twice, over all other riders. He wore the tatoo of a photograph of his infant son's face on his forearm. His wife and two young sons are in my prayers. Photo: courtesy of google

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


Sunset at shoreline
roaring even after dark
sunrise's story.

Thursday, January 20, 2011


How long does it take to find a path to travel?

1) Pick a destination: forward.

2) Obtain a roadmap: experiences vs. unknowns.

3) Choose routes: 70 mph?, Yosemite and Grand Canyon?, visits to kindergarten buddy and sisters?, downhill and straight highways?, rocky, wet, overgrown, unmaintained? known roads and pre-mapped courses?

4) Organize gear: money, map, car, bike, foot, phone, bedding, food, water, friend.

5) Take action: take a step.

…….. 1)  Choose a Destination:

Photo: J.T.Giese

Monday, January 17, 2011

Winter Ripe

Persimmon branches
honey heavy, suspended.
Turning brown untouched.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Patience for my Patients

This is not any love song,
nor any psalm, for me.

A 20-something’s rush to the office store,
replace the paper to write a score.
A truck turns, and broad-sides his legs,
rescuers drag him, footless and burning,
not to sing, not to beg.
Not a love song, nor a psalm
…..of a poet - not better off dead.

In a still, lone bed of a rural ICU
a patient with a lung-implant
gasps a poem I do not know.
The Rag is passed and the new ear listens.
Is it a better love song or psalm
sought after the author's gone?

From a month spent in coma from a stroke:
springs one man, with one wife,
a universe-city of students, twin boys full of life,
to teach, to talk, to hug, to walk,
to reach:
only one-armed not,
but for a love song, and a psalm for all.

She cuts on her arm, not for physical pain,
but release of heart’s balm on her psychic longing,
of a new moment dawning,
again…not better off dead.

Not that I cannot live without you,
But knowing I can see you again
is a love song
and a psalm
for a better-off day.

Friday, January 14, 2011


Phoenix fire burns down,
swimming upstream no longer
riding waterfalls

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Just a Cat

For now, just think of me
as your cat.
I’ve always wanted
to be a cat:
sleeping all day, fiercely independent,
climbing trees or curling up
in a drooling frenzy
of oblivion in your lap.

Think not,
that we'd paid the bills,
nor of the questions
we might ask of tomorrow,
upon waking with eyes wide open.

Deny the averted smile,
the downward gaze,
the deep sigh
so easily shielded by our arms.

Tonight for this moment,
just think of me as your cat,

full of rumbling affirmations,
shedding softness and warmth,
grinning behind Cheshire whiskers
for you alone.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

fire and ice

Fire and ice
don't mix you say?
I've met fire
with icy frost.
But this time they're merging...
when an iceberg is melting.

You can't see 90% of
the ice below water's surface.
Melt the tip
a bit at a time...
and the surface area
in view grows flatter.
Easier to stand upon
with surer footing.

I doubt we have enough
fuel to melt it all down,

but the steam is flowing
becoming droplets to the sea.
And the sea is infinitely
vast enough to carry
our tears away...

I face my birthday tomorrow with hope and trepidation, as a new life lies ahead, one moment at a time.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011












This is a poem of made up words. Two actual words combined if you look closely, addressing breath used in healing meditation, to calm and energize. (for those of you who don't get it, ask and I will translate.)

Somertimes you have to remake yourself, from something familiar but undesired, into something you didn't know of or have before.  I am not talking about a trite New Year's resolution.  But by letting go, accepting change, chosing a new path, seeking peace, healing from loss, we may have to envision unfamiliar territory. 

Monday, January 3, 2011

out of darkness into light

Before the dawn,
the land is void
shifting between chasm
and cliff face.

From undifferentiated darkness
a vaporlit film forms
in the vanishing points:
sourceless, pervasive.

Sensing massiveness
onyx edges
cut the firmament.

Moving through emerging
valleys, vales and voids:
envisioning indefinite shapes
into illuminated forms.

Hills metamorphosis
into volumes
to touch
and circumscribe.

The pearling vault
extrudes green from
below transposing
illusions of black.

cheeky clouds
blush to barely touch
the unrevealed sun.

Facing the evanescent
blooming dawn
gives the most brilliant
gift of sight.

(another take on the theme, it’s always darkest before the dawn. Thankful for a new dawn and the drive to see it in its entirety. Never give in to the darkness.  Let the light change your view.)