College Poems Part II

Dandelion

I caught a dandelion today – it -

twirled itself between my finger tips.

There was peace there in

That yellow blur, that star I held in

My own hand.

Blake would call it “heaven,” but

Is there such a place?

Yes. I’ve been there.

Twice today and once in my life.

Wings are not needed, nor death

To behold that gate, it is light

And absolutely no where -

That is – only here – in the dandelion.

Pollen Window

Pollen -

Snow in slow motion,

Danced outside my clear and cloudy

Window.

A breeze carries it to another place.

A place I’d like to go to.

I look down and weep at

My shoes, unfortunately unable

To take

Me There.

Pigeons, Bodhichitta

Two speckled and white

Pigeons

Scraping the ground for sunflower and

Sunflower seeds.

They find them amongst the dirt, gems

In a sea of pricelessness.

Waking up is like flapping your wings – it -

Carries you into the air with a smell

Of lavender and ash.

I woke up one morning and

Realized

That

The dream

Was

over.

Haneda

The dew

drop

fell

Like a sparrow without essence.

Tokyo is Tokyo;

A silver glass pane and

Hedge of

Blood red

Leaves.

College Poems Part I

Summer Morning Within

‘Til dawn we walked

Through up-to-my-knees tall summer grass.

Walked ‘Til that fire -that -

Uncharacterizable Agni Threw his first rose

At our mountain (revelation) wall.

-I sat on the ground, usual manner,

You on

the

side, sniffing an unopened orange.

Crying

Under silver water,

Falls the bamboo man’s kite

Thirsty for this,

Only this,

A catastrophic heron.

Crying mother

Crying Peaches Crying

For Revolution.

Solve, evolve, revolving clay

wheels.

The river of muddy

Paper, its flow of ink words,

Knows not, where is the sea?

Green

The weave of the blanket, cruciform

But not sacrificed.

I bent my head to see -

It,

Found an image there, a face without

Eyes, floating – just – floating

Beyond what may be called ethereal.

If I could cry, it would be green,

Not leaves, but on a spring day – the -

Floral madness and buds cracking

at

Dawn.

Impermanence

(A leaf falls from the heavens,

Gray clouds like my grandmother’s hair)

And then the creature realizes

It is going to die.

Everything Changes.

Pink in bloom and

fall.

Stained blue and blue stained glass

Cracked slivers of hair -

Weeping – the creature finds – he has no home.