Rota

Crooked,winding, cobbled streets,
Shadowed stucco walls,
Motorbikes chatter past
The secret inlaid halls.

Whitewashed homes, roofed in red,
Fancy wrought iron gates,
Small cafes, corner crouched,
With bars and tapas plates.

Sunsplashed beach, of blowing sand,
Chilling morning runs,
Cerveza, por favor,
Served with honeyed buns.

Full moon nights, made for us,
Dizzy times, a Spanish theme,
All alone we lived and loved
Within our special dream.

Rota

 

Gullsong

  

Seagulls

Seventy-
Seven
Salty
Smelling
Seagulls
Sitting
Sadly
Somnolent,
Still,
Since
Strong
Seawinds
Sent
Squalling
Shoreward
Silenced
Squealing
Soaring
Songs
Sung
Sibalantly
Sweet.

Woman

  

Bluesday afternoon

Seems like only yesterday,
Seems like yesterday,
When my woman said go away,
Said I made her mad almost every day.

Sunday, Monday, Bluesday,
Its Bluesday every day,
Had to leave my home in Texas,
Seems like yesterday.

Yesterday was lonely,
Tommorrow'l be the same,
Next day won't get better,
Bluesday is to blame.

Bluesday,Bluesday, Bluesday,
Wish that I could sing,
But I just sit around on Bluesday
To see what it might bring.

nymph

  

"Sanctum sanctorum

All may try but none can penetrate
Nor e'en hope to defile
Or interrupt the far out
Empty walled enclosure
In which I dwell at certain times
Detached from the tether
Of social senses, quietly
Thinking in mental tongues
And deep concepts unknown to all
But the mystic core of Upanishad.

Pensacola haikus

the waves eternal
lick the stones with salty tongues
and beg acceptance
. . . . . .
pelicans in flight
soar on spirit winds above
they know many things
. . . . . .
old streets with old names
live oaks stretch fern-clad branches
above ancient bricks
. . . . . .
Daytime joggers trot
and scent the fresh sea air
much like searching hounds
. . . . . .
The emerald coast
greens and blues and sparkling white
nor who but me sees?
. . . . . .

habitaticfuture

 

'Now and zen"

Times to puzzle,
Times to think,
All is past inside a wink. . .

What of worry,
What of fear,
Another day, another year. . .

Now is how,
Now is when,
Never out, always in. . .

Momentary
Is the way,
Every night, and every day. . .

Boomcat

silent stalker
sneaking low
sneering grin
fangs that show
she lurks and creeps
in search of game
FELIS CATTUS
is her name
sparrows, robins
grackles black
they never see
her fierce attack
birds exist
for her to slay
backyard killer
seeking prey

greensnarled

 

"Haul wind and run"

Looking like seagulls
Bobbing their heads
Their shrouds as shiny
As silvery threads
Once in a while
Flash redsails and blue
Catamarans
In brilliant bright hues
Brownskinned sailors
Heeling close by
Trapezing to windward
Riding on high
Pyramid waves
Crested by white
Moving as certain
As darkening night
Looks like the ocean
Is chasing my wake
Seems like forever
Is fixing to break
Sailing alone
Thinking of you
Colors engulf me
Blue-into-blue

The Zodiac of Mr Moto

 

The beauty of the Tao

Since no one knows for SURE where we are going, only what someone has TOLD us, one of the beautiful things about the
Tao is that there are NO preachers to tell us how to get there,

Unconstraint

 

"cold, cold blues"

De blues done ovahtook me
like a raincloud takes the sky
dey rolls acrost my mis'ry
like that final last goodbye
woke up Sunday mawnin'
felt like Monday aft'anoon
'been drankin' heartache highballs
'been cryin' to the moon
de blues done ovahtook me
turned lovin' into grief
a gambler stole my baby
like a lowdown sneakin' thief
dat woman she was fickle
she want ever thang she see
dat tinhorn showed his money
and she fell plumb out wif me
de blues ain't got no fav'rites
de gets on dem dats down
dey dresses you in mis'ry
den dey shows you to de town
de blues, de made of sadness
of lonesomeness and pain
dey takes yo' dark confusion
and makes it be so plain
de blues was born from lovers
a long, long time ago
dey waitin' in de shadows
dey jumps when heartaches show

Dejas Degas

 

Love folly

Just a castle
Made of sand
Created by a long gone hand
It only stood a little while
A victim of a little guile
Should have built it of cement
It might have been a monument

So it slid back
To the deep
Where long and silent
It shall sleep

Composed on March 8, 1977

The sport of Kings

 

WaterBallet

Heeling downwind
On a chilly spring day,
She leans like a dancer in pause,
Leaving astern
A filigreed wake
And the waves seem to ripple applause.

Small ballerina,
Your snowy -white sail
Makes you look
Like a low-flying bird,
You rise to the moment
Appearing so frail,

And your keel-song
Can often be heard.

Today and tommorrow

. . . . and now the forecast;
today there will be daylight,
becoming partly daylight this afternoon.
as the evening approaches, it will become partly dark,
late evening it will be mostly dark,
when it is night it will be completely dark,
the night will fade away
and the early morning should be only partly dark
with the early day bringing partly light skies,
followed by daylight for the remainder of the day.

a Zen master once said

I
have
nothing
to
do
right
now
so
I
will
sit
quietly
and
do
nothing

Human Highway

Out on the boulevard
Its just another street
Pedestrians are actors
In the poets blind retreat
Some will try to listen
or see the overview
Its just the uncut version
Of a scene thats playing through

Out on the boulevard
The heavy scene goes on
People playing simple roles
Until their money's gone
The meaning of the playwright
was lost upon the cast
And the audience was unaware
Whose laugh was uttered last.

1978

Profiles of a woman

One is so methodical
Her things must all get done
Another is a hurricane
of reckless,crazy fun
One is so beautiful
She's lovely through and through
Another is a rough and tumble
Member of the crew

One is always seeking
Perfection in a man
Another wants to have him
Any way she can
One is such a miser
She keeps her self locked in
Another gives away her chance
So someone else can win

One is so beyond me
I'm lost before I start
Another holds me tightly
And is pouring out her heart
One is in the Cosmos
Where stars are bright and wild
Another is an innocent
And laughing little child

One is such a lady
Her fans demand encores
Another rushes past me
To open her own doors
One remains a puzzle
Enigmas are her fame
Another thinks that life
Is just a funny game

One walks upon a tightrope
Stretched taut between her walls
Another lives reclusively
Inside her sacred halls
One has walked away from me
Laughing as she goes
Another face i won't forget
Recalling past tableaus

bluewarp: The dogs of Nefertiti

Nefertiti was the Queen,
The Pharoah's perfect jewel,
But when he left the mortal world
She had the realm to rule.
Her beauty was a legend,
Known throughout the land,
But priests and soldiers
Could not abide a woman in command.
And so she disappeared from time
Like a heady puff of Kif,
And all thats left of her today
Is a carv'ed hieroglyph.

The dogs of Nefertiti

 

Blue-on-blue

leaping over winter waves
dancing on the spray
sailing through the blue-on-blue
on a chilly day
white-cold skies blow norther winds
strong hands grip the tillers
blue waves build and seem
to feel like mighty rolling pillars
spraying water stinging cheeks
brownskinned sailors move
leaning to the weather edge
heeling in the groove
standing out to channel wind
reaching for the mark
cold and brave they hold her
and hope they're home by dark

 

blue- on- blue

bluewarp

The Captain of Nargeelah

City of strangeness,
All in a jumble,
Windows and doorways,
Rolling a-tumble,
The wizard is flying,
Down dark crooked halls,
Making his magic,
Behind his own walls,
His city, Nargeelah,
Lies hidden away,
A small little fortress,
Where he hides day by day,
His magic is simple,
And of his own measure,
His flying is mental,
And that is his treasure.