What I have learned about grief...

  Last week, NPR asked its listeners to submit a poem what started with  the line above...

   What I have learned about grief..
           Is that  grief won't pass you by
even if you act like you're on the phone
          or studiously avoid making
 eye contact with his scabby visage.

     He will be at every stop sign
           on the sidewalk
will tug at your pants leg
      wanting his heavy slumping
weight to be picked up.

   Try to ignore him and it will be
like hitting your shin
 on a ball hitch,
or slicing your finger
    when you cut lemons.
but all the time and every time


You have to sit with him
       on the porch when
you watch your neighbors
   ride their bikes,
hold hands, and
       play horse on
 their driveway.

He will ride shotgun
 when you go to work
and cry with you
  in the parking lot
     
Grief is an imaginary friend
   that nobody wants
but everybody gets.

La Chingona

The owl would not dare
to call her tree home.

  Ladling out posole
   possibilities and
     bowls of caldo
 de sabiduria

  This wisdom is
from the dust of
    experience and
the watchful faces
     between rain
 and fire.

She will marshal
   the grimy children
and show them
       when to be silent
and when to be loud
       to whisper
and to sing.

This short giant
    will wield her sandal
to protect the innocent and
     admonish the wicked

And when she departs
  she does not leave
    but stays with
the earth
     the smoke of the fire
        the truth
      of the river.

was machs du?

I like you best when
  your hands are dirty.

Love to listen when
 you talk about your garden.

  Bringing you ice water
 and hearing you
   drink makes me thirsty

  Spooning with you when
       you've got a pink sunburn
 keeps me warm
       
          Maybe I'm just a clumsy golem
 to write such earthy praises
        the scroll of your prayers
            on my tongue.

  Or. maybe just coming correct
           with what I know.

The salty kiss and
          the way you snap
a dish towel on my bum
      the only truth I need. 

Hold the line

kiss us all nature
play us something wonderful
dewdrops on our porch

where did the time go?
spring rains, gentle lullabies
then Summer wakes up.


water is prayer
sunshine-communion
swim trunks are ready


chorus sings in green
abuzz and chirping outside
since we were barefoot


inside the bunker
of my vessel there is war
fighting dark again

tight five

You can take a poke
at the term hopeless romantic
  but it's an honest label

   you can tell a joke
and take it for granted
     that folks won't find it hateful

the world is full of dust and smoke
         and barbed wire trees we planted
 so smooth things makes us grateful

 Where does love go when it forgets?
      rustling layers
of dried leaves, random receipts
    in  old drawers

         does it move away
and stare out the window
      listening to lawnmowers
and wind chimes?

      I saw it looking around,
for where it parked
    biting its lower lip
       trying not to cry

better luck next time
   you fucking chump.

Tinder

The people of the North
        who can hold up the sky
 and walk like smoke,
       have many words for snow.

      You and I can tell
the tales, and I for one
          have a jumbled sack
  of names for loneliness

                you tell me yours
and I show you mine
        we trudge heavy
     not looking back
until we do
       and walk in circles


  "It's all right", you say
"It's not that bad,
        we're
walking this bitch
      together."

SpaceMom

She is a secret
this hidden sorceress
  that uses numbered incantations
to reach the stars
      like all of us
though with common magic imbued
        a soul as light as
          hydrogen
  a trillion sparks of mighty light
         within
and like the first hallelujah
    cannot be seen by ordinary men
         and I
 filled with rusty songs
           and the grimy smoke
 of experience
          want to warm
          those tiny hands