Hallway to Nowhere

Category: Uncategorized

  • Agents of Nothing (Poem)

    and you think that you own us

    because of some imaginary line

    drawn in bloody ink on a bloody map

    our bodies used for witness posts

    and you want all to be a mirror

    that reflects back only your glittering lies

    the best the powerful the beautiful

    most importantly the always white

    you are reeling drunk right now

    on delusions of fear masked by arrogant pride

    and soon will fall to the ground

    cut by the fragments of your self-regard

    because we are not you, one of us will come

    to bandage your wounds and lift you up

    then take you to some hidden place

    where you can live your remaining years

    alone with only time to fill

    that space where the rest of us keep our hearts

  • On The Shelf Of Time Spent (Poem)

    blue petals the color of loving eyes

    holes half-full of red gumbo clay

    scattered notes from a cello sonata

    throaty croaks from long-vanished bull frogs

    muddy drops from the mountain creek

    cracked remnants of forgotten dreams

    hollow vase for hollow wishes

    a clock that noisily warns of the end

    one plank only and it’s getting full

    tip all to the bin and walk away

    room for someone else now

  • Traveling Light (Poem)

    my heart is heavy so I leave it

    discarded on the street

    half hidden by a dented can

    I had wrapped it so carefully

    in strong local thread

    kindness gathered throughout the years

    then placed it unwisely

    and a knife blade sliced though

    love weighs so much

    anchors me to place and time

    a ballast to somewhere I can no longer be

    I travel soon no road no map

    one memory resting in that raw space

    tears easily turn to rain

    body to dirt laughter to stars

    I’ve no fear about this journey

  • Enough (Poem)

    I flee to the trees the bayous

    the rough bark and murky water asking nothing

    letting me climb fall swim flounder without remark

    I learn how to breathe again after landing too hard

    find my way back to the surface after exploring too far

    under the coolness of canopied cypress

    listening to the lap and flow against the muddied bank

    I rest sufficient without having to be

    a glittering mirror never enough never enough

    I know that I am enough enough for me

  • Absence Of Birds (Poem)

    November turns the fields to cold mud

    corvids usually pick through the wet grass

    their eyes sharp enough to cut

    their cries so raucous as to wake the dead

    today no unkindnesses nor murders are to be found in the yard

    and the gray of clouds has seeped into our dreams

    sending us to do desperate things for color

    paint a picture of our wildest hopes

    dance down the street to strut and wail and beat

    amidst the chaos we needs gather more than ever

    find our people, set a table, join hands together

    give thanks to farmers, now let us eat

  • Storage (Poem)

    if the body remembers, then mine holds close

    stories of how to die and return

    to return and die again and again

    such were my first three months and beyond

    thus it has remained

    currently I have fever cough pain

    three months now off and on again and again

    no comforting touch nor sheltering box

    only finally the knowledge that I am not unique

    that everyone is always in a transitional state

    I wrap this understanding around me

    a calming weight to ease my intemperate mind

    and rest

  • Unwrapping (Poem)

    first layer, feeling

    physical here-and-nowness

    constriction of breath

    in and out movement

    each a different nuance of pain

    second layer, noting

    it is like this and this and this

    labels drop away

    dissolving into flow

    inhalation and exhalation

    third layer, resting

    awareness sees itself

    elsewhere a spider takes a step

    and the world trembles

  • Mirror Image Thought Experiment

    Invitation: Participate in a thought experiment virtually 

    What: Look into a mirror. Write a few words about what you see in the mirror or feelings/thoughts that arise or even memories that might arise. Anything you wish to note. Any comments, unless marked PRIVATE, will become fodder for poems. 

    Why: About 7 years ago, one of my teachers, a Rinpoche, remarked that none of us has ever seen our own face. So I decided to do an organized event and play publicly with this notion. Art is always more fun in collab!

    When: Oct 18-Nov 18, 2025. The event will take place over 1 month. Should I get decent work out of this, I’ll publish these in a small limited run of a chapbook  and offered for sale, ALL PROCEEDS GOING TO KUNPEN.NGALSO.ORG . 

     I do not profit from my work!

    Send me a message or leave a note in my studio

    Mirror Image Thought Experiment

  • Do Not Ask Where I Find Hope (Poem)

    petals so fragile they bleed from a gaze

    cover the ground as bruised pavement

    their colors darkening with every footstep

    sepia shading recalling other wounds

    those we hurry past and try not to see

    we all have blows we cannot escape

    cuts and marks and tender scars

    some heal and in their repair transform

    a sharpened jag becomes an expansive heart

    so that even the tear-strewn weary earth

    awash with wreckage from violent storms

    is suddenly overrun with flowers

  • Ignorance Indeed (Poem)

    I thought myself patient and wise, building this sturdy wall

    brick by hardened brick around my fearful precious self

    but that surround is made of glass and guards an empty space

    able to be shattered by any kind word

    every day I am cut by some sharp edge, some jagged self-delusion

    that I still grasp to use as mirror to see my face

    how long before I’ve bled enough to drop these shards

    let go such desperate need and rest

    no sight, no seeing, no being seen