Poems 

2020:  THE COREY - JOAN EQUATION

2020:  2020: A POEM

2019:  SUNDAY MORNING MEDLEY

2019:  ABSENCE MAKES ...

2018:  TWO SAILORS

2017:  CHANGING TIMES, STUBBORN MINDS (Also a song... but not yet recorded).

2016:  TREASURES OF YOUR SOUL

2015:  FORTY YEAR FRIENDS

1963-1974: A few early efforts follow...

(Untitled)

Paint a picture of morning--

Grey sky spotted by a few birds;

Drunken branches weaving,

--or perhaps just caught in the

firm grip of a gentle breeze.

Sounds. Sounds of man piercing

the backdrop of nature noises.

Birds mostly.

Sometimes wind;

Sometimes rain or thunder.

But not this morning.

This morning:

Trucks on the Ventura freeway

punctuated by the living room clock.

Cars starting up

people talking

hammers hammering

The new day has begun

It's too late for peaceful silence

It's been too late for years.

The new age has begun.

Get back, people. Get back

to where you once belonged.

To where you can hear the grass

laughing, caressed by the wind's

restless fingers.

To where your eyes aren't stopped by

man's assault on nature.

To where people care about others

as much as they care about themselves.

Look inside yourself.

(29 May 1974)

Sandcastle 

Sandcastle on some secret shoreline

waiting:

distant footprints, pray, come near.

Wind chiseled walls, sun faded,

still gazing:

upon the waves of lonely tears

Mind-mansion, behind drifts of solitude

hiding:

hopes of love so slow to appear

Flickering shadows in rooms still

glowing:

mirror of self from some other year.

Seabird, unbounded, castle spirit

soaring:

above, beyond --to some future, freer

Sandcastle on some secret shoreline

waiting:

distant footprints, pray, come near.

(23 March 1974)

Learning --

world reflections through child's eye

truer than textbook

child reflections through world's eye

undisciplined.

righteousness conquers diversity,

curiosity grows cautious;

child becomes old.

(March 22, 1974)

Tension --

time pushes on the lever of difference

compresses the spring

inch by inch

until it recoils

tearing oneness.

(Mar 21, 1974 in San Gabriel)

Rapport --

Somewhere deep inside

ideas whisper

feelings murmur

remembering those rare and

exhilerating moments

when superficiality was breached

and the complexities of

two complex beings stood naked

before one another.

Ideas and feelings

not wanting to grow alone

yearning to be heard

listening for the companionship

of kindred ideas and feelings

watching for a smile

a glance

a touch

that says "I understand".

Everything Beautiful and Good

(August 1967  --My gift to P&M)

Satyr

Indeed, life. That seems to be our realm,

though the brightness is often mistaken

in the shadows.

But shadows don't last

except in the visions of thought

and in the apparitions of the conjurer.

Both are sorcerers now.

Both contend for their serfdom

both join hands with

Satyr and Babel

to slay young minds.

Deceived by circles, and triangles,

squares and rectangles --of how many colors?

Was it always so?

Once we let fly balloons --toys that grew

smaller and smaller,

as we grew larger and larger.

But now; the spheres we build

in those thoughtless visions

out of the fabric of society

resist belittlement;

grow with the ego to magnificent proportions,

till shadows, gay circles, colorful squares,

merge into Satyr's facade.

Nevermind. The quest has shattered question;

reality or illusion --I never know which--

have successfully hidden essence.

But what I want to know is:

How do you like your green-eyed boys

Mister Life?

(probably 1963)