Chonga and the Pasha

Chonga visits the pasha
For this trip he had to travel very far
For he had a request and hoped to have bequeathed
Food and supplies for his humble village

The pasha granted audience
And listened close to Chonga's plea
For over an hour Chonga was empowered
Describing his tribes vital need

Chonga knew of the riches
That the military government held
And surely he thought they'd share the gold pot
And give to those in need

The pasha was silent when chonga finally stopped
You could have heard a pin drop
No one had ever advised his lordship
Of dire desire and necessary need

How would the Pasha respond no one could guess
For many years the Pasha had only his hide to cover
But a shut eye now opened and consciousness aware
Is hard to turn a cold shoulder too

Will the pasha grant Chonga's wish
And give back to those in need
From his bursting full larders and endless wealth
Surely he has enough

Will pride weigh out and fail his people
Will greed win over need
Will Chonga's plea be heard to the core
The next poem may complete the story....

No Idea

I've no idea what I want to say
But feel there is something needing to be said
Lying in bed my head in a lock

I've no idea what I'm feeling right now
But there is something weighing on me
On bended knee to God I talk

This feeling crept in while my guard was down
This feeling lept in without a warning sound
And now I'm lost in the darkness hoping to be found

I've no idea how to define this state
But there is something definitive here
I'm just not clearly able say

I've no idea how I got where I'm at
At this time when things are outwardly good
I mean I shouldn't be, but still I am afraid

And I have no idea why

Finding Myself

I wasn't expecting to write that letter today
It just came out and I said what I had to say
I wasn't expecting to write that letter today
It just came out and I said what I had to say

A broken dream or maybe a promise not kept
Or an unfulfilled expectation
A disappointing matter that we can't discuss
I didn't expect to write that letter today

Pent up feelings once afraid to express
Couldn't even say what weather I like
Doing anything just to be liked
I didn't expect to write that letter today

There were many things wonderful
And ways that my heart was opened
Opened to new ways of thinking, talking, loving
New ways of looking at life

But frightened and foolhardy beliefs
A bevy of encumbered emotions
A diuretic sensation leaching creation
And gone was the muse of life

I didn't expect to write that letter today
It just happened
I took the time to write that letter today
I took the time to find myself

The Past and Now

Mirror are you lying?
Or do I see what could be

Mirror are you telling about now?
Mirror on the wall

Where do these thoughts come from?
What is and what could never be

Mirror I see two faces
One mine and one standing behind

Who are you?
Mirror you show me tears

Who are they for
Mirror answer me

Mirror you reflect my thoughts
And send me into my mind

Thinking about me
About what I want and how to get it

About rhythms and missed loves
About reflections

Reflections and reactions
And tears and harmony

Oh mirror you show me
You show me.... Me

Blind Leading the Blind

Darkness its all I see
At times like this
Only shadows and unlimmed corners
Hardly aware of my senses

Leading people like a lemming
I hope not
For the fall from the cliff
Is like a fall from grace

My back bends as my heart beats
And I struggle to offer up a path
Some look to me for the answers
And with a confident voice I state

Assuredly follow my lead I'll show you
And begin on a trail
But as I look inward
With doubt and confidence not

My fears take reign and steer a false course
I seem to draw near the edge
Where is the light that can guide
The darkness is like an arctic day

Of doubt and dismay disturbing my strength
Is failure imminent?  Will it be permanent?
Will it be heaven sent?  Will I make the rent?
Is the blind leading the blind?

Aged

I still feel like a child at times
Wonder if my father felt this way when he was my age
Though I doubt it for he had much responsibility
A wife three kids a mortgage and a business

A real grown up situation nothing like mine
I seem very immature to my remaining siblings
They have followed in family steps
I may just be free in spirit I may be free from stress

My brother, like my father, raises a fine family
Even raised a son for me
My sister has a beautiful boy
Too bad he far outlived his mother

Even with a name like white
I feel like a sheep that's black
Lacking social expectations met
I'm a dreamer an addict addicted to life

So maybe forty is the fab new twenty
There is plenty of opportunity left
For the older I get
The older older gets

So shuck off the past and family condition
I'm sailing in my own direction
A beating drum on a savage breast
Calm me now with music and rest

Nails of a Lover

How do I love thee, she said?  Let me count with my fingers....

On one well manicured hand is maintained long luxurious nails
That scratch your skin leaving passion trails that for days linger

On the other hand my nails are trimmed
Come hither I beckon and answer your whims
Pleasuring a walnut sized spot
Seeing you writhe and twist moaning with passion sought

Answering your odd bit of kink
Loving when I take you to the brink
Of pleasure and seduction and raging release
The amazing things I can do on my knees

You bring out in me the sexual store
As kid in a candy shoppe I want more
I'll hand it to you in more ways than one
Using my hands has never been more fun

White Out

Fluffy white granular
In amounts that would make an addicts heart beat
Fast furious sniffing of nose
Drip drip drip

White powder swirling
Inhale through the nose
Back of your throat sneezed and siezed by a dust mote
Burn down to your lungs

But this white is different
But through my eyes just the same
The power it used to give me
Is now just frozen rain

White out blinding storm
Of cold and winter tale
Of angels and carrot nosed men
With eyes made out of coal

For this powder can be eaten
Or thrown or shoveled
Not down noses or into pipes
But onto the sidewalks and sideyards

Falling sticking melting
Icy crystalized delights
Fashioned out of natures foundry
The felicity of man

Chonga

Chonga lives life everyday
Technology plays no part
As the sun rises it follows that the sunsets
When clouds gather black and moist he gets wet

Without aid of compass or clock
He knows the way and the time to arrive
Miles to town don't seem strange
As he gazes in the wonders of his home plain

With his wives and close relations
Everyday is spent with life fascination
Without telephone light or satellite
Chonga lives his life

In each moment as it comes
Even when a marathon runs
Just to get to the next village
Chonga considers his life a privilege

Emerald Green Nails

A poem about self esteem a reminder, if you will, in the color of green....

I used to look at you and wonder what you see in me
Am I the best at this or that, am I the most dominant force in your life
Can I make it your job to fill me with joy?
And build up my bridges when my foundation is failing

I have this heavy back pack
Filled with a load of my past track
Of wanting your validation word
Needing your approval assured

Now I carry my own pack
It's not too heavy and I no longer ask
For assistance on building me up
Or making you responsible for the completeness of my life

I once thought you held my entire muse
No creativity until I met you
Then when you had to move on
I blamed my inability to further spawn

Words and melodies and harmonic twists
Of patterns and rhythms and vocal bursts
Of love and life and alliteration
Of dull feelings and lack of sensations

I gave to you everything no courage could I alone
Hold myself accountable for the emptiness of my home
Why would I willingly let go all power that I can hold
I only think that I had so little confidence in my soul

So today I am reminded that there are highs and there are lows
I am responsible for the status and condition of my woes
And now a gentle token given to my feet in prose
I paint emerald green polish on the nails of my toes!

Fish Pie

Fish pie suicide
Turn you over on your back side
Do it all over again


Roll you over grab a rubber
Push it all the way in


Make you scream its your dream
Pretty soon I will cream
Give me 15 minutes more I'll do it over again

Fish pie suicide
I've been stripped of arrogant pride
Flying high in the sky
I have no feelings that I hide

Appreciation and Expectation

A and E

Where would I be if I was living without high A and low E?
Appreciating everything around me and what I have
What I can do and who is in my life

And expecting little
Little to ask for and little in return

For appreciation can come in high measured doses
From little acts of gratitude to the people who raised you
And expectation is dribbled out from an eye dropper
With little forethought in any given situation

Maybe my clarity has sharpened, honed if you will, to a fine razor edge
And even the quotidian can seem full of color
While what use to seem exciting and life blood giving
Is now remembered as dull and gray

But how to find appreciation in comforts known not here
Of adventures with expectations held low but still not met
Oh lord appreciate somehow my state
Of excess without mess or stale breath

For upon arriving to the place of appreciation
I find the comfort just knowing that all I have
Is enough, it is enough
And in contentment I bask

What Do I Miss Most

Long good morning stretches
Chairman Meow
PST the BST

Sidewalk smiles
Organic Soy
Good golly Miss Molly

A bed full of pillows
A bunch of cheery fellows
A back rub a bath tub

Mellvilles legacy
Steam coming off the lake
Friends, writing pens

Sunsets on my left
Overnight sleepovers
Late dinners absent benders

Friends that truly care
Kids and students who know my name
Seattle trips bending hips

A long time since I've seen my home
Even though I've not been lonely
I've been alone on this coast

Ground Water

Not with taint of taste or chemical smell
Nor the idea of a festering sore
But purity such as never'd taste
Upon the lips of innocent men

Who conquered this land with prejudiced pride
Who committed atrocities and in history books lied
Failing to tell the entire truth
Oh what stories they denied

But water is our last precious resource
And even our industry threatens its life
Where it all began on this eastern shore
We are not different than a pilgrims whore

Betrayal and neglect and heads turned away
Miles of innocence tucked away
Fatten our citizens with corn fed lust
All the while no hero's to trust

So leak your fertilized infamy into our groundwater
And from plastic we drink with safety we hope
For the last precious thing we have to sustain
Is spoiled by money poured down the drain

Minneapolis

Its cold in Minneapolis
Very cold in Minneapolis
Briefly felt on the Jetway
Snow blew in my face

I'm changing zones in Minneapolis
And changing planes in Minneapolis
One leg closer one leg numb
Hold on chairman here I come

Moving sidewalks carry me
Moving sidewalks ferry me
Twice the speed of normal man
While writing with blackberry in hand

A mini look at Minneapolis
A mini stop in Minneapolis
I'm glad that I'm still headed west
And not rotting in Minneapolis

Airports and Red Eyes

Airports. Sitting always waiting
Late late night flying no security lines
Carry on bags minimally checked
I could "tweeze" the crew and take over the flight.

It's New Years already where I'm going
A few more hours until it reaches here
Sitting on a runway tarmac
Well much better than last year

Strange but the news seems always bad
And its in airports that I only chance to watch
I mean there are televisions everywhere
What the hell. how about a cartoon instead

For the last three weeks I've fought off a cold
Tried to keep good care of me
Not looking forward to six hours
Of recycled prana breath of life

So they call it the red eye and I do see why
Because I've been awake for over one day
Tired and leaky and red rimmed eyes
Await the arrest of this journey

On the other coast just east of here
Will be who knows what, no expectations
But get me out of this automated environment
And let me be free from here

Airports and red eyes
Holidays and flying
New sights certain to see
And home again much refreshed

Public Domain

Public toilets
Voided bowls and urine smell
Men evacuating what they so preciously let in

It's been way too long
Since I visited my own john
I miss it much, I piss way too much

To spend so much time
Smelling others behinds
First thing I'll do is take a poo

On my throne
In my home
And smile knowing I am alone

Transcendental Portation

Traveling
Is it harder on the mind or the body?
The waiting hours and uncertainties
Your fate, your fucking fate, left to others often unseen

A road trip trust fest
Trying not to make waves
In the car not a boat
Yet a sickness arrives faster than we do
Thank god for median warning strips

A flight
A frenzy chase to hurry and wait
And then the not knowing
The fear and the release of control
And the cramped elbowed spaces

A train
Rallying to the rails
Somewhere miles away it chugs along towards me
And I'm waiting in cafes espresso shots replacing patrone

And I'm tired from sitting
Like I've thought with my ass
Where my mind could have spent
All these hours on tasks and projects
And be energized instead

Traveling
And it makes home that much more
Appreciable
And it makes me that much more