Hallway to Nowhere

Category: poetry

  • Thus, Day 1 (Poem)

    how should I approach this time

    whether I sit or walk, I am beseiged

    a hundred worrisome concerns cloud my mind

    a thousand interwoven sorrows weigh my heart

    anywhere I look is filled with shadows

    comes an answer:

    remember the wheel of sharp weapons turns and turns

    you are impaling yourself upon its keen blades

    bring to mind again the cause of all suffering

    face your self-cherishing as the enemy to blame

    grind dirty selfishness into the path of compassion

    transform polluted craving into offering great generosity

    eat your own poisons so that others might live

  • Reckoning (Poem)

    if I hold those paintings in my hands

    the hurricane will finally hit

    the house in which I spent my youth

    torn to ruins in the howling storm

    everything that I remembered gone

    my mother herself now dead

    I learned in childhood early on

    how to survive such wind and rain

    stand in the eye matching its eerie calm

    I have no qualms about doing so again

  • Same Game, Different Day (Poem)

    and so we wait in different ways

    discuss-or not-the end of days

    this approaching event

    we forget that we’ve been here before

    the die gets cast again and again

    a golden apple caused a war

    destroyed a city and founded an empire

    all for vanity’s sake

    death and the destroyer of worlds

    brought horrors beyond imagine

    killed people both quickly and slowly

    again because of wounded pride

    the mad, the bad, and the angry

    are still riding the storms of fear

    from which they feed and draw their strength

    one day, some day, we’ll stop and say

    let us not be afraid any more.

  • Two Dhatus, Two Tools (Poem)

    when the world seems too much with me

    and concerns weigh heavier than the rain-dark clouds

    so that I walk unaware with lowered heart

    hostage to the wild maraud of desires and distractions

    overwhelmed by the thunderous din of undisciplined mind

    I know that I have forgotten the simple tools at hand

    one being to stop where I am and open my eyes

    do nothing but see what there is to see

    today I stood in a rain of leaves blowing from nearby trees

    color fell around me in bright yellow, red, and gold

    the wonder of it all so much more than enough

    I remembered then to breathe

    another being to pause and listen without expectation

    do nothing but hear what sounds occur

    one evening at just the right moment (every moment)

    I found myself surrounded by nightsong

    the whirr and click of crickets and the throated croak of frogs

    the immediacy of these calls such an anchor

    I knew the present to be home

  • Where We Can Rest (Poem)

    if I could tell you, would you wish to know

    if I could ask, would you be wise to answer

    there is space where we can sit

    where a moment becomes infinite

    each breath the only one we ever breathe

    we release our demands that we define all

    we relax into being alive

    grounded like a mountain, spacious as open sky

  • Another Reason Not To Fear (Poem)

    here is what I know

    why I will not turn away from you

    however your regard

    each encounter is a precious thing

    I will never know my own countenance

    but I can see your face and you mine

    what a gift indeed

  • Concerning News Of My Death (Poem)

    I have been in those small family graveyards

    traced on weathered gravestones names from long ago

    had the dead rise around me to share their stories

    the world is so much more than you want to see

    so you coffin yourself by different means

    not even knowing you thus become dead

    until one day life makes itself known

    and you remember and are afraid

    I refuse to be afraid

    I have died many times

    I walk in liminal ways

  • The Line In The Rock (Poem)

    grief runs through me

    like clouds in this October sky

    heavy and dark with threat of tearfall

    pushed between horizons by a chilling wind

    consolation also flows

    swifter than my heart could recall

    I have walked these parched fields before

    and know the value of rain

  • Rumors Notwithstanding (Poem)

    in the end I will thank you for this disruption

    useful reminder that faces ever change

    and past love can mean nothing except impediment

    something to be buried for your convenience

    and fake affection can be tried as a clumsy bludgeon

    ineptly seeking my blind consent

    had you known me at all, this would have been different

    my death will not be your force majeure

  • Land (Poem)

    you forgot-or didn’t know-that I knew stories of that land

    the timbered barn built by hand and burned in vengeance

    the two streams that provided water and their springs

    the reasons for the midden heap and the small house that overlooked it

    I walked the boundaries every year

    over rocky embankments between barbed wire fencing

    learned about what had grown and what had not

    what might be a good idea if the weather held

    I sat in rooms warmed only by a stone hearth’s fire

    and shared hot coffee and stories with people

    whose names I do not remember

    but whose gnarled hands I still see quite clear

    I loved all of this pure and simple

    felt it settle upon me like an obligation

    care but do not own, land cannot be owned