Smoking Out the Back Door at Night

I recalled what made poetry true,
(A genius may have alighted my head)
It wasn't design askew
But a deliberate confusion that led.

Where Does my Lama Go?

I cannot stay here at the monastery.
The renunciate's life is in secluded mountain retreats.
And wherever I find that silent cave,
It will not be home.

The home of the yogi is the Western Buddhafield
When he has quit samsara.
It is all to spread Dharma as long as I breathe.
It is all to roam.

Two Minds: Decision

I am of two minds tonight:
There is a pen held in my right hand
And in my left a light
To turn this green-form Buddha
Into smoker's delight.
I suppose I've already decided:
To write.

Tower

Then were there clocks
Counting two and fro
To incessant heels on rocks.
I had an appointment
In two days, two minutes,
two seconds. I was late.
He must have checked his watch.
I ran at uneven paces
To the rendez-vous
As the tower chimed fifteen.
He couldn't wait anymore
He left.
I screamed.

La Poesie

I dream bad dreams in sleep.
They may be mitigated but for their
Carrying over into waking.
No shaking of head nor drowning nor running culls them.
My dreams are poisoned by the unfulfilment I drink.
I sit and hold my head in palm and think.

You release me from my wrongdoings.
When I hold this instrument of ideas
I can give away my troubles to a perfectly white page.
The mind feels cleaner and light,
Oh what peacefulness there is to write.

Schrodinger's Thought

The mind is an opaque box:
Within is the cat,
Without is the lock.
A passer-by may blab and talk,
And merry on with no response
From mulling feline so ensconced.
If so inclined by empathy,
This speaker may end willingly
His diatribe and turn the key
To his companion's unknown state,
And for response attend and wait.
Within the walls the wild gears
Of clanging thoughts will disappear.
The hatch will swing and open up,
Coalescence renders clear,
The cat half live and half corrupt
Turns out to be a pretty pup!

Mona, once my Dear, at the Party

I saw you through shoulders dear.
The mass sprayed loudness,
But I heard your call.
Seated, you were looking up, smiling,
Orb-eyed and mouth wide like you used to do with me.
You seemed excited dear,
Your heart seemed healed.
Who he was I still don't know.
I didn't ask my partner nor say hello
To you. You seemed happy.
Your black lashes fluttered skyward,
And your hair arced to your chest.
Some noiser blocked my view,
I sidled to the left to resume.
You were laughing a sweetness disarming to taste.
I smiled too then took my date's hand and turned away.
I assume you didn't notice me.
I suppose I'll never catch your face again.
the end.