I Wish You Could See What I See

I once saw a blind man who wandered to the sea.
He climbed mountains, he crossed deserts,
He walked where none could see.

Days he spent in solitude, nights he spent alone,
Stars could never be his guide
To lead him safely home.

Strange things happened in his wake, wherever he would dwell,
Strange things men are loathe to say,
Once they bid the man farewell.

I came upon his path one day,
Or perhaps he came to me,
One autumn-shaded evening,
As we gazed upon the sea.

He turned to me and held my gaze the way only blind men can.
He took my hand with gnarled grasp
And softly he began.

His tale was deeper than the seas he swam
Older than the mounts he crossed,
Darker than the world he lives,
And bleaker than the price of loss.

I cannot know how long I stood when his tale had reached its end
I did not see him walk away,
Nor even comprehend.

But once departed I still heard the final words he spoke,
They echoed faintly in my ears
Even as I woke.

When he left he whispered as his face remained serene:
"And now you see what I see
When I close my eyes and dream."

Wilderness Song

The roads may overgrow with ivy,
Weeds push up through unkept concrete,
Thistles wind and bind our heartstrings,
Just know, I love you wildly

When lions roar beneath our breastbones
And wildebeests roam, no want for home,
Claws will clash to self-preserve
Still know, I love you wildly

When waters dry and winds would parch us
When storms arise and threat to drown us
When our own hearts would but deceive us
Do trust, I love you wildly

As years trod on through desert wasteland
Feet, mind, and heart reach dull complacence
When wounded sleep would overtake us
Recall, I love you wildly

Star Power

I want to pressurize Grace McConnell

You heard me right, I said pressurize

Visit our pink blog at http://jujamist.blogspot.com

And don't blame Einstein for the atom bomb

Blame MacArthur for preaching us stagnant

And this city for letting apathy run rampant

Visualize the change you want, and then become bored of it

Throw a hissey fit

Watch movies on your laptop until you brain turns to

Another distraction and time filling noisemaker

Subtle blade and incipient life taker

Ignore the hard questions - sell all your possessions

Go ahead, waste your life, I dare you

Is there really an alternative?

To A Friend

Meaning runs riot in a center-less world
I've lost the rhythm of my mind
I see so many others in directionless blurs
Seeking solace we never can find

Dear child of darkness in manifold thought
Trapped in sight and reverberating sound
No knowledge that by the same fears we are caught
Alone our struggle abounds

Up and down and all around
But in the silence I can't hear the sound
Of the gentle pleas you scream aloud
In the tremors of the vacuum's shroud

Alone with the sound of your beating heart
Though the crowd pulses against the walls
We can find the finish if you let me start
Even if we start with a crawl

So stand tall dear child against the roar
We don't have to be alone
We'll make an end where never before
Have they felt the blood of this war

Love & the 80's

I want to be the Molly Ringwald
to the John Hughes inside you

and inspire you to death.

The Silent Hour

I have been up reading

for hours, maybe.

I find myself awake
at a time
that is considered
neither early morning
nor late night,

but merely
the time
of hollow stillness
and giant
clock sounds.

I look up from my book

and from the window
see rain-
like paint drippings;
turning the grey asphalt

I also, am in the midst
of a rain;
a time
when the ground chokes
with everything
it has been needing.

I need
living water.

I need
a cup
that overflows.

I need
this rain

to pour down
and drown
what needs drowning.

Lament for the puppets

You dribble destinies like tears from your fingertips,
Holding hostage the feeble minds of ten million sleeping souls,
You offer for ransom your brothers and the truth
For the sake of a catchy phrase that will grab their attention,
Their emotion, their decisions.

You offer perspective and information, or so you claim,
But your perspective is skewed, your information chosen
And discarded on a whim, and your claims irrelevant.

You feed on mass hysteria, strengthened by shifting moods and trends,
You waver between whatever extreme is popular at the moment.

You tear open old wounds and wash them with cheap wine
That burns and stings but will never heal.

You fabricate empathy for villains and disdain for heroes,
You wake peaceful giants and then blame them for the havoc they cause.

You burn bridges like children play with matches,
With no concern for the damage you may create,
And then you build ten steps on a stairway to the stars
With no hope of ever seeing it complete.

You contemplate and speculate,
You satiate and devastate,
You abbreviate and aggregate,
And for reasons you've devised for your own selfish reasons
You lead the world you've blinded down your winding paths
To a dead end.

ropes and branches

we are two trees
that grew up
beside one another

close enough
to string a hammock


there is only

the rest
and sway
of easy cotton

the sun lying down
on the top layer
of our skin


that lets loose
into our palms

like heavy fruit
off the newborn branch

we are weightless

when the ropes
are tied