the birds in the trees sing so lovingly

the birds in the trees sing so lovingly

as perfect as perfection while playing

while decorating the flowers with spring

so kind and so merciful as it pines

for lost innocence is a melody

while beautiful and nameless it is time

equal to its unwritten timelessness

as sense is to silence and silent reeds

the birds in the trees sing so beautifully

songs of a promise that birds always keep

sing in the morning at noon and sunset

sing to the sun in its climb over earth

be its voice when it reaches for its heart

be its lullaby and its morning song.

Just Sonnet

I think and thought about a thousand things.

And each with its full table of contents

as complete as each one to existence

how they came to be and are and still ring

with a growing permanence as certain

as memory will not make omissions

and fate is just a starting point of rhyme

when sound and sense combine and separate.

I think of what to do for the sonnet

that is to say I try to fulfill it

though it be unedited and written

by formula, I hope it is unique

I hope that it will be blessed as it is.

Unedited and unrevised justice.

Songbird Sonnet

The Songbirds are Singing their Lovely Notes.

Their Song is heard while these words are SIlent.

They pause and allow one Bird the Moment.

It chirps in descending volume then Ends

For a brief millisecond Disappears

Or, rather, grows Inaudible Slowly.

First the image subtracting from the Flock

Pairs duo then continue, a trio

Emerges before a Quartet Begins

Carefully everything is bent on Sound

Enjoying its fulcrum against the Air

Wind, reed, and fascicle, the Orchestra

Plays as it Would for a Rich Occasion

Dedicates its desire for the Noon.

BUTTERFLY WISE BEAUTY

The butterfly with its wisdom-wrought wings

the panels that display their symmetry

align with full destiny when flying

and place a flag of beauty in the sky.

Dyed with artful details, woven silk,

spread across one canvas two pains framing

that gather from the world its smallest inks

and dipped in that same inkwell is its felt.

An eye appears as though that it could see

to look on it is beauty seeing sight

as all of it is mystical it shines

delicate limbed tiny poultice tincture

To watch as beauty flies on beauty’s wings

or waits at most a moment in the leaves.

QUAINT MCCAIN

Iran Contragate Two and the Vanguard

Which Ascertains itself Capable of Art

So to War is to each his own Forces

And Bloodshed the Power of Authorship

Consigned to a Mish Mash of Grim Motives

The ANswer to Everyman’s Aggression

The Plunder of Nothing for Certainsomes

Beyond in the Parchment Suppression Bomb

Purgatorial Offers Particle Sense

To Not Think at all is a Leisure Plan

Without limitation of Medium

One for One is a Common Equation

The Shoes that Rest on the Desk Crossed Ankle.

Diagonal like the X from the Y Key.

DANCE OF LIFE

 Tonight the evening placid and pleasing

so peaceful and so full of mystery

time expands and ignites smiles or weeps

as time, space, distance revolve as it sings

If life is just one thing life is a dance

it wraps itself round centrifugal force

of intersecting circles of movements

as the evening is passing of a torch

The ground absorbing darkness as it warms

from under the floor or out on the street

under the brush outside of my window

earth, stone, root, soil, and mineral pour

the content of energy and time stored

all of its travels and every tour.

DANCE OF LIFE

Tonight the evening placid and pleasing

so peaceful and so full of mystery

time expands and ignites smiles or weeps

as time, space, distance revolve as it sings

If life is just one thing life is a dance

it wraps itself round centrifugal force

of intersecting circles of movements

as the evening is passing of a torch

The ground absorbing darkness as it warms

from under the floor or out on the street

under the brush outside of my window

earth, stone, root, soil, and mineral pour

the content of energy and time stored

all of its travels and every tour.

PROMETHEUS

The Gadfly as Company, the Liver,,

Prometheus endures his Curse and Longs

to Invent something New--far Greater Pain

that his thighs must have feltand his hamstrings

for to Fly once is to Fly Forever

just as Beauty at Once is Eternal

For it never Fades nor does it go Mute

The Spirit of a Loom made of LightRays

Has Little to Worry in the Darkness

Water to Drip from the Parchment Essence

As Water seeks Light and LIght seeks Water

balances equilibrium Matter

What Gadfly or Eagle doesn’t Love Truth

To Speak it and to Perceive it as Such?

WISDOM FENCES

Ancient acorn gatherers at the falls,

blessing the water wading in water.

Vanish from footprints deposit the arrow

for future and unknown familiars,

Those yet to be born and being born know

that this is their birthplace and their oak tree

It is all things future and past -- the wood--

portends of what may and might, and would’ve

Had the grandparents not loved as they loved

had they not made sacred observations

Abstract, hypothetical, sanctified,

seen: what didn’t they think of? The ancients?

There still is a time there are no fences

and only the wise can unbundle since.

HELEN AS HERODOTUS

As Homer saw without seeing Beauty

Human leaves were shorn by Almighty Whim

No one might think otherwise or decay

for why Prometheus was gone away--

his wings molten yet flying nose first then

spiralling downward caught in his hubris

then Agamemnon arose with his Woes

for which no form but Epithet chose

He who laughs louder than all of us - Zeus -

after killing the Gods of his Ancients.

But Helen of course paces as anxious

now being a captive and symbol lust

of Warring as Unadventurous sports

of Slavers, Half-Gods, Cannibals and worse.

COPPER KETTLE

Good day, good morning, and good afternoon.

What has yet to be -- answer for me, look,

Above the clattering disasters’ doom

within the abundance of a moment

As though it were a Lamp made of Copper

and ornate as the lamp sent by Mother

from Cherry Valley to Arizona

where it was piled on top of a mountain

of energy plus matter and light strength

Four hundred miles away at Oak FLat

it Rang on the Earth Rang as it Landed

This is that Sound as Nameless and Sacred

LA MER DE LA TERRE

C’est la belle de la Terre C’est la mem chose

Vous savez bien  - Vous - ne le regrettez

Je me conteste. Je suis Impotente.

La mer je regarde sans je ne sais quo.

Sur le plan je existe avec la existence.

Quell que il chose por il pensament

No parle pas de frances il pa de accent

Porquoi je escrit quan til cest plus de profane

Je me repite: la mer ans sais quo

je le regarde avec la precaucion

le sacre de printemps le sacre de la lune

la adoracion de la terre voila

Le sacriface de l’ocean sur le sable

Le ceremonie de les anciennes