Ode to a Lone Odist

"Hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. All companionship can consist only in the strengthening of two neighboring solitudes, whereas everything that one is wont to call giving oneself is by nature harmful to companionship: for when a person abandons himself, he is no longer anything, and when two people both give themselves up in order to come close to each other, there is no longer any ground beneath them and their being together is a continual falling. …

Love your solitude, and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. …

To walk inside of yourself and meet no one for hours -- that is what you must be able to attain."
– Rainer Maria Rilke

Ode to a Lone Odist

Heroic solo poet,
Bold loner of prose,
Owned by no one.
Rowing a boat alone
In the blowing cyclone,
Knowing no port,
No hold,
No home.
No holy oath,
No whole from both.
No love.
Enclosed in a stove.
Cogito ergo sum ego.

What toll do we owe the odist
For oracular notions told?
Poems and tomes of soul probing,
Groping in a hole too cold for most.
A comatose ghost woken,
Then rolled to the old boneyard,
For us, open only as a footnote.
For those who wrote it, an open sore,
A molten core.
But that onliest core is gold
Those poets protect, promote so.
Alone flows the source,
The origin of the gorgeous.

Oh. No?
Associations, no association;
Approaches, no approaching;
Accords, according to no one;
Chords, no chorus.

Compose without decomposing.
Go from the shadow of the bodhi,
Loan your ego to the cosmos,
The glow shown within shone without.

No soul is an atoll.

After Labor Day

Gray-white gulls rock
On a gray-white dock,
On a gray-white bay,
On a gray-white day.

No need to take wing,
There isn't a thing;
There isn't a reason -
End of the season.

The tourists have flown.
The birds, now, alone,
Peck without hassle
The last sandcastle.

Junk Artist

Waste of words –
She offhandedly dispatched them –
Written off.

Literally –
Strewn all over the premises –
Found art.

I reworked them –
Fashioned them into elegance –

Trashy words –
Remodeled, a verbal Watts Towers –

Love's a Place

Love’s a place to take off masks -
In barefaced truths we can relax.
Love’s a force that crumbles walls -
Into disarmed arms one falls.

Love’s direct – no mediator
Trades immediate for later.
Love directs our eyes to see
Each other, then eternity.

Love, the never-ending now
Celebrates what we allow;
Love holds hands, joins one to one -
As one we run, our one begun.

Positive Negative Capability

my me embraces
the two faces
my mind chases
the hard cases

my being braces
breakneck paces
my brain traces
baseless bases

my heart races
for lost places
my gray spaces
are gods graces


Universe in a soul in a mind in a brain in a body in a life in a world
in a universe

The universe is a spectral sparkle
The soul shows itself in the shadows
The mind presents its self to itself
The brain realizes realization
The body is - if ever an is there was
Life is becoming
The world is probability
The universe is possibility

Your Self

If you extend your self
And it's not for your benefit,
You will benefit.

If you mystify your self
And subsume your understanding,
You will understand.

If you lose your self

And you empty your vessel,
Your vessel will fill.

If you love past your self
And ask no love in return,
Your love will return.

You will benefit.
You will understand.
Your vessel will fill.
Your love will return.

If you give over your self,
You will recover yourself -
And more.

Mystic Chords

Harmony's humanity
Decrescendos vanity
A timeless leitmotif endures
In variations’ overtures
Vibrations' overtones still soar
One string resonates with more
Heartbeat rhythms of the ages
Backbeat hip-hop, jams, and rages

Soft-pedal tremolos' unease
With melodies of mysteries
No harping on cacophonies
Symphonies of synchronies
Arranging tintinnabula
Clappers clang a kumbaya
No fear of cracking bells from use
For from the fissures light breaks loose

Musical translumination
Lyric lieblings' liberation


Upon your shoulder always is a sun:
Where ever you are, there it radiates;
Not clouds nor rain can take away the one
That guarantees your face illuminates.
At night the haloed moon your hair reflects,
And lie the stars, a trillion suns themselves;
I close my eyes, the ling'ring light rejects
The dark, defeated any depth it delves.
And even under covers, warmth reminds:
It taps you on the shoulder, heat at play;
Your sun-kissed skin, your radiance it finds,
Your fire fueled each pyrotechnic day.
So when you feel your soul caressed by sun,
Know too, it touches me, and we are one.


Public servant - private auction:
I'm in the bidding for a quick billion.
Do I hear a hundred thousand for this plate?
There's chicken on it!
Chicken enough
To let me call the tune,
To let me play my financial instruments.
I'm in the market for political influences,
The latter-day papal indulgences -
Unholy bargains for special dispensations.
After Bernie made off with all your savings
You still save a vote for us auctionocrats.
Of course, the more you elect us elect,
The more quickly the revolution comes.
But we've already bought enough to overpower
More than once,
Three times,


I'd planted one foot in my past, away,
The other fishing 'round a future year;
But I had only wasted my today,
So I must now regain my footing here.
Just-after-sunset I have just enjoyed,
Despite the gnats that nip upon my ear;
Magenta-orange waves upon the tide
Submerge and cleanse regret and far-off fear.
Perception of the Big Man’s soulful sax
In this forever-never-then of now:
I think not what my soul's connection lacks,
But revel, revelations to allow.
Two women on the seashore, in today:
 My present’s present - I may share their play.


"Thou shalt not covet."

Such a vice
God named it twice.
Envy, lust and avarice
Joined in I-must-have-it-ness.

Commandments commandeered by commodities,
Plastic preferred to stone-etched oddities.

The selling so compelling
That greed becomes need,
Lure becomes cure,
Desire becomes require.

Conspicusumers spend upon it,
Institutions lend upon it,
Economies depend upon it,
Civilizations end upon it.

The golden calf is idolized,
The soul of man is Midasized.

In God we trust?
Those shoes are a must.


I fell in love
with the idea of her
the ideal of her

I fell in love
with all I was with her
all I’d be with her

I fell in love
with each laugh from her
each “love you” from her

The idea was false
The ideal was dashed
All I was was wrong
All I’d be was me
The laughter waned
The “love yous” ceased

I fell
I fell short
I fell out
I fell down

Time to get up

Death of a Delusion

Reality looked me in the eyes
Didn’t like what she saw
And left

The beacon in her gaze
Clouded over
With a hopeless haze

I thought she would be different
But I didn't get so lucky
Promise taken away

I’m grieving the death of a delusion
Dreading the dawn of disillusion
Seeming defenseless from dissolution

Can’t avoid
There’s once again a void
Where my soul’s supposed to be

We now return
To our regularly-scheduled wretchedness
Already in progress

Still True

You might not be Miss Right,
But you were the right miss
At the right time.

You might not be my life's love,
But you heartened my life,
And so heartened my love.

You might not be my soul mate,
But you stirred my soul
And animated my spirit.

You might never be in love with me,
But with me,
In me,
There is love.


If I fall,
If I fall,
If I fall ...

If I fall,
If I fall,
If I fall ...

I'd never loved like Icarus
The danger seemed ridiculous
So I would bore and bicker us
Until we were just sick of us

'Cause if I'd fall,
If I'd fall,
If I'd fall,
The depths would drown it all

I'd never tried to touch the sun
Give all my self to all of one
And fly so high, all will be none
My wings will melt, I will be done

But if I fall
If I fall,
If I fall,
Your waves may save my all

Or at that height what light we'll see
Escaped from earth's dull gravity
We'll trade afraid and misery
For solar winds of ecstasy

And if we fall,
If we fall,
If we fall,
The stars will hold us all

We'll swim the sky's eternal ocean
Float so free, but with devotion
Lift ourselves in raised emotion
Come as one to cosmic motion

And when we fall,
When we fall,
When we fall,
A love aloft is all

And when we fall,
When we fall,
When we fall,
Our love is over all
(never over, never over, never over)
Our love is over all


Silken chestnut light
Falls from nape to breast -
Swept away for sight,
Nestled soft for rest.

Aqua eyes change mood:
Emerald, jade - intense
Lustrous jewels imbued
With verdant radiance.

New shore to survey;
What does she seek most?
Are there hearts at bay
Upon another coast?

Beauty often wooed
Enters time of grace
A solo interlude.
A Soul. Desires. Embrace.


Souls don't die.
On they go.
Do I believe?
Yes and no.

The eternal part of me resonates
The external part of me hesitates
The insane part of me agitates
The mundane part of me integrates
The brutal part of me castigates
The moral part of me mediates
The ethereal part of me meditates
The corporeal part of me sits and waits.

I wait for more
And more, and more:
Within, without,
One soul, once more?


We shared our last wistful sunset
For now
We shared long after the pastel prism faded
Into night
We would not share the sunrise
We share wavelengths across vistas
And time
We share dusk on separate sands
And times
We share a luminescent nova
In time
We will share the just-after-sunset


When is goodbye
When is why not

What makes sorrow
What does losing

When is presence
When is absence

Where is farther
Where is darker

How from without
How from cold facts

Who imagines
Who can aching

What can a missed kiss
What can unfettering

When is what's beneath
When not making love
Makes love.

Why not?


What the mind misses
The soul kisses.
What the hands let go
The heart holds so.


Je pense toujours à toi;
Je souffre tout pour toi.
Je tiens à te tenir;
Je veux à te venir.


Eu quero ser feliz,
Após anos de luta; 
Busco para a raiz, 
A vida é uma puta!


Last kiss has to last
Kiss, last kiss
Hold on to holding on
Hold, on hold
Look for one more look
More, look more
So long this so long
So long

Harbor Haiku

Wind breathes into sail
Invisible force revealed
What was unseen, seen

Waves wash the vessel
Cycles of syncopation
Rinse the rust away

There truly can't be
A spectacular sunset
Without a day's clouds

I once asked a fish,
"How is the water today?"
"What's water?" he asked

Here we all harbor
Here we sail from port to port
Here the figawi

She Lies Awake

Can't retrieve unconsciousness,
Something on my mind,
'Cause last night was the first night
I risked leaving him behind.

He said he wanted honesty,
To tell him what I think.
Was it just talk? Will he be shocked?
Will he hang up? Or drink?

The morning we both knew would come,
Too bright the light today;
Will he accept me as I am,
Or start to slip away?

Is love enough in me for him
To lay my secrets bare?
I don't know, oh no, don't know!
Oh! Why? Why do I care?

I resolve I should resolve;
I know he knows. I vow
To chance that he'll still love me -
But maybe not just now.


Stuck in the self-doubt of outer beauty,
Questioning motives, usually right:
Hoping she wakens a little less empty
After succumbing to colors of night.

Not all alone, but not all together,
Out of the arms of her arms-length men:
Can she abide to decide upon whether
She can risk all of her soul again?

Prickly pasts, imperfect choices,
Barely believing her brilliant being:
Just now she's daring to heed the voices:
"You're worth the joy and the love you are seeing."

Realizing life is so tangible, transient,
Dwelling in now, aspiring above:
Will she hold fast to eternity present,
Or reach out her hand, let go, let love?


My friends
The therapists
The books
Talk about "deserving."

"Do you not deserve better?
Do you think you don't?
Aren't you due?"

They dole out deservedness
Like a children's participation trophy
After the team got no-hit.

I'd deserted deserving -
I'd got what I deserved;
I'd deserved what I got.
The word was Sanskrit to me.

What does a Bohemian
With god issues do with "due?"
Turn it into a manifesto for entitlement?
Graft it on to his already solipsistic Weltanschauung?
Perfect a machine that runs on auto-ego?


But souls know what to do.
Our spirits deserve to grow.
Their very eternity earns nurturing.

Our essence requires connections.
Our beings need to enlighten.
Our compassion must be fashioned.

Prerogative is a desert.
Earthly deserving is a mirage.
A perpetual passport is a wellspring,
An otherworldly oasis.


Can’t sleep – can’t get out of bed
Can’t stop the echoes in my head
Can’t do what needs to get done
Can’t feel the love or fun

Can’t sing the melody
Can’t hear the harmony
Can’t stand the monotony
Can’t flee atonality
Johnny One-Note

Can’t walk the dog, feed the cat
Can’t seem to change where I’m at
Can’t care about what I think
Don’t dare to do a damn but drink

Can’t find my hat or coat
Can’t even sing by rote
Can’t believe I missed the boat
Can’t believe what I just wrote
Johnny One-Note

Barely one note from my throat
Johnny One-Note

Contracted Bodymind

Body-bound brain
Depraved cave
Inbred instinct
Innate animality
Impulsive implosion
Seductive obstruction
Corporeal captivation
Banal stimulation
Distraction reaction
Contraction attraction
Conditioned attrition
Addictive fiction
Alienated degeneration
Seashell self-deception
Echoing skull-hull
Concave conscious
Headlong short-sightedness
Illusioned dissolution
Gross engrossment
Petty pull of meager mind
Consumer tumor
Corpus derelicti
Reflex simplex
Reduction seduction
Shabby habit
Mundane brain drain
Alienated sameness
Homeless aloneness
Stranded driftwood
Private prison
Confined ferality
Gravity of depravity
Circumscribed vibe
Closed meeting
Voluntary mind-slaughter
Thus far - no further
Soul murder

Curve outward
To convex complexities.
Start acting as if;
Shades of gray matter.
Shake the hateful weight.
Surmount the surface-us:
Transcend the transient.
Reach through the breach
Beyond the be;
We the me.

Sestina by Numbers

The one-armed man, a partner in the plot
Was shot by Dot, who was a two-faced spy.
“So much for threesomes,” said the Mastermind.
The foursquare-placed desire of her design,
This five-star plan involved so many steps:
Six-shooters, bodies hidden from the police.

The seven deadly sins are hard to police.
Behind the eight ball, Dot revised her plot.
The bottom of the ninth, a few more steps
(A Tenth Commandment coveter, this spy).
Eleventh-hour turns of her design:
“Police property, twelfth round,” mused Mastermind.

Unlucky thirteenth theft, old mastermind,
His fourteen carats caged up by the police -
His fifteen minutes, famed for his design,
Got sixteen candles jail time for his plot.
In Stalag 17 Dot could not spy,
But 18th Street Gang thugs could trace his steps.

His nineteenth nervous breakdown hit the steps
From gangstas’ twenty questions. Mastermind,
Now twenty-one-gun-clued-saluted Spy,
Would snatch Catch-22 with help from police,
And 23-skidoo, a Rampart plot:
A 24-7 station, her design.

From 25-cent phone booth, a design:
From 26 letters, one would start the steps.
Amendments 27, now her plot:
All 28 dominoes tipped Mastermind.
Her plant from Twentynine Palms inside the police
In thirty seconds, at the desk she’d spy.

The 31 flavors tasted by the spy -
Ice, cream inside. 32-degree design.
Now 33-speed care, the diamonds police
Won’t miss. 34th-Street-miracle steps.
And zircon-35 switched Mastermind.
But krypton-36: the cop’s own plot.

Roulette’s 37-slot-plot brought naught, thought Spy.
38-caliber police shot Mastermind.
So Dot’s design dropped down the thirty-nine steps.

Real Sad

Now first I should say that I am OK - I will not crumble, I will not stumble. I was believing I was receiving mixed signals. More upsetting, I was getting no signals. Then I got what I thought was the stop signal.
I feel sad.
I don't feel hurt or depressed, self-pitying or dispossessed.
No, this is an honest emotion, a valid, even (yes!) humble notion - mayhap, the first authentic sentiment since this rebirth I underwent. Yes, that I can taste this heartache - the feeling that I can partake - boosts my belief when this feeling's done that I'll find relief in another one.

Now first I should say
That I am OK -
I will not crumble,
I will not stumble.

I was believing
I was receiving
Mixed signals.
More upsetting,
I was getting
No signals.
Then I got
What I thought
Was the stop signal.

I feel sad.

I don't feel hurt or depressed,
Self-pitying or dispossessed.

This is an honest emotion,
A valid, even (yes!) humble notion -
The first authentic sentiment
Since this rebirth I underwent.
That I can taste this heartache -
The feeling that I can partake -
Boosts my belief
When this feeling's done
That I'll find relief
In another one.

Five French Words

The scab
Was healing,
Tortuously, torturously.
It itched like hell.

But I had to discard, 
Try to pay no attention 
To the affliction -
Like trying not to think 
About pink elephants.
Silence as salve.

Fucking Facebook.

Five French words:

"Les rêves étaient très doux" 

"The dreams were very sweet."
The real translation?
"I'm dreaming about
 All the fun
 We had on the boat
 Last weekend."

Wow, the pain.
Panic attack
Meets heart attack
Meets primal scream
Meets gut punch
Meets a knee to the nads.

Five French words
Which could have been
Written for me
(And kind of had been,
Though it was only
In our dreams),
Ripped that scab off
With the fury
Of butchery.

The wave crashed.
I breathed not.
No ignoring this.

But like a bandaid 
Pulled off in a blinding flash,
The miasma of misery
Left just a scar.
It won't need to scab over again.
I hope.
Frederic Bazille - Claude Monet Wounded

Wakeup Call

Another hungover afternoon in bed
A bottle fell down and-a hit me in the head
The glass-crash shatter-ass got me all inspired
Sick of bein’ sick, tired of bein‘ tired
The message in the bottle said it all
It said
“This is all your wakeup call!”

This is all your wakeup call
This is all your wakeup call
This is all your wakeup call
Oh yeah

Stuck behind a truck, drivin’ your piece of shit
That mess is worth less than a-you still owe on it
Say you wanna be free, help out your fellow woman and man
But you’re still a sardine, crammed inside a can
 Before you crash that car straight a-into a wall
 This is all your wakeup call

This is all your wakeup call
This is all your wakeup call
This is all your wakeup call
Oh yeah


Bears are treadin’ polar water, you know that that ain’t good
Antarctic ice floes floatin’ to your neighborhood
Ev’ry day we throw away what would be a nation’s nutrition
Put a face on this disgrace, put your place in their position
Before we face the human race takin’ a fall
This is all your wakeup call

This is all your wakeup call
This is all your wakeup call
This is all your wakeup call
Oh yeah

Братья с оружием

Все счастливые семьи похожи друг на друга, каждая несчастливая семья несчастлива по-своему.
-Лев Толстой

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