No Small Thing !

Butterflies circling -

Playing in a spring garden 

Breeze cooling -

The hot flashes. 

The morning tea 

Brings on 

Freeway sounding distant 

Today -

I slept last night !

And dreamed of 

Many things. 

Workmen taking my 

House apart -

Termites 

Eating it -

There was a dog 

On my lap 

At a race track 

Don't know what to think 

About that 

The man-friend was there -

But distant 

I have a friend who believes in 

Lucid dreaming 

I think I've done enough -

For one day -

And would rather not -

Dream at all 

Some say the butterfly dreams 

That It is a human sometimes 

Or that this world 

Is a dream 

And we will awake 

Some day -

The Buddha was awake 

And then had 

So much to say 

About it -

I'm tired of talking 

I have existential fatigue -

Along with being 

Old -

But I can give thanks 

For this shade 

And this way 

Of being today 

Nothing hurts 

I have food 

And a place to stay -

The hummingbird comes 

Around 

Curious -

And several types of 

Butterfly's 

Play 

If I were a painter 

I would paint 

- today- 

As such -

I am thankful 

I am not -

What a lot of bother 

With brushes and tubes 

Of paint 

I am only compelled to 

Try to describe -

In words 

The glory of 

Spring 

No small thing!

Sleep

Sleep -

It is a mystery 

To me 

This afternoon - late 

I lay down for a moment 

And hours passed 

- no one could have separated me 

From that 

What comfort - 

     What bliss 

What an opiate!

But now I wait 

     Late at night

For the idea to dawn again 

For the sleepiness 

     To descend 

Knowing that it's so 

     Necessary 

To the quality of 

My life tomorrow 

Fiddling with Facebook 

Looking up old "x's"

Feeling wonderful 

That I can -

That there is no parent 

No overseer -

To say 

Anything -

Ah 

What luxury 

It may not seem like much 

But from an  over controlled 

Childhood 

I still run -

I am rebelling here 

Staying up till 

One  

Hiding from 

Responsibility 

It will all be there tomorrow 

The lists 

Are still long 

I check off one or two things 

In a dulsitory fashion -

Until the next emergency arises 

And takes presidence 

But sleep 

(Which is what this was

Supposed to be about) 

Is no where to be found 

No where around 

As we get older 

It gets more complex 

Some nights - awake 

All night 

For no apparent reason

Just 

The sheer cussedness 

     Of life 

The more we fight and try 

To sleep 

The further away 

It drifts 

Anger doesn't help 

Murdering helpless pillows 

Beating on them 

Cursing - 

At three or four in the morning 

Is probably 

Counter productive -

Not in the 

"Sleep therapy"

Curriculum 

Was that a yawn? 

The beginnings of a possibility 

Of a return 

To the blessed state 

Of non-existence ? 

One can but try . . .

"X"

Dodged a few bullets 

Lately -

Thanking the gods 

For that -

Waiting for the next ones -

Knowing they'll come. 

Also knowing that - that's 

Life 

Obviously ordained 

To be that way 

And therefore 

Somehow sacred

No matter how much "i"

Do not approve. 

Wondering 

This evening about 

The incredible conduct of 

"Friends" 

Very "x"

How could they imagine that 

Cruelty and jealousy are

Appropriate -

Here 

Don't they know 

It all comes back 

On us -

Our hearts are closed 

To the extent 

We close them 

To others 

I suppose they mean 

To hurt us 

Because they 

Have been hurt 

Before 

Forgive and forget 

Forgive and forget 

Should have all been done 

By now 

Them

Jury duty ---

Save me please !

Boredom has descended 

With palpable palpability

Someone should study this 

Some scientific research is needed 

When people refuse to do this 

Our civilization is through 

It will have crumbled into 

Dust -

This one guy here 

Can sleep 

Sitting up

Why is it guys 

Can do that ?

And I can't. 

My friend will descend

Into dreams 

In the middle of something important 

I'm saying

And awake apologetically 

When I'm done -

As I was saying,

Our civilization 

Will be done -

When we don't allow "them"

To treat us 

This way -

To coral us 

To imprison us 

- For just the day 

So that we may decide 

Which others of us 

Must be imprisioned -

Where they can get 

Free food and lodging 

Paid for by us 

There is a logic here 

Somewhere 

I sure of it 

I'm almost 

Certain that this 

Makes sense to someone 

Somewhere 

In the great halls 

Of 

"Them"

Friends

He's been to the jungle 

He's taken the drugs 

Led by shamans

He's seen the inside of his head 

     Expanding 

     Outward 

Now, one would hope, 

Some knowledge of 

     The heart 

Might be 

Forthcoming 

That the sky might 

     Open up 

Inside 

That he might see the heart 

Expand 

-The spiritual connection 

With -

There is no explanation for 

What he's done 

What he's seen 

But the size of the bugs 

Was obscene . . .

Am I jealous that some people 

Have the health 

To travel ?

I suppose . . .

But from what I've been told 

The greatest journey 

Is within -

The greatest test of courage 

Is to meet ourselves 

In silence 

And let God come in 

And be our friend 

Long Dresses

Reading about the 

"Good old days" 

When doors were opened 

For us 

And spring came gently 

With muslin skirts 

And flowery hats. 

Elegant carriages 

(But oh, the horses 

I do feel sorry 

For them) 

( and no antibiotics, 

What then?)

It boggles the imagination. . , 

But does make for a good story 

-Can't wait to see how it 

Ends 

She will undoubtedly hook up 

With the old lover she 

Is pining for 

And all will be sunshine 

Once again -

And I pine for you 

But for different reasons , . .

It is a different time 

I can come and go 

I have freedom 

I have rights 

The court can say 

He needs to 

Stay away -

I - as a woman -

Have every right 

To that !

And long dresses 

Would get old -

Real fast 

The Zen Bird

Wishing I could fly 

Not with feathers 

Not with wings 

But the spirit sort 

     Of bird 

It rises from the ashes of 

The mundane 

Of the everyday 

It soars 

It banks 

And sings 

It leaves behind 

All petty things 

It knows the way 

     To go 

The spirit bird requires 

Some attention 

     Now and then 

All sorts of cages 

Are made for it 

-Attempt to trap it 

     -To distract it 

I will tie 

A string around my 

     Finger 

To remember to remember 

In the midst of it all 

-All the clamoring, crying, sighing 

-All the silliness 

Of life 

The zen bird flies 

     Above it -

Now I need to 

Hitch a ride