COA

You can try Creek Watcher but beware, it is a horse of a very different color...

Leonard Cohen

I did my best; it wasn't much.
I couldn't feel, so I learned to touch.
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you.
And even though it all went wrong,
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
with nothing on my lips but Hallelujah.

Benefaction

Lord, accept
my madness
as an offering.
Crazy as  I may be,
you created me.
  - mce

Some Wars Never End

Beauty is a war
that must be fought.
She will not
surrender herself
easily.
Gather your strength,
attack relentlessly.
In the end,
you may win
a bit of her
for yourself.
Only do not
imagine total victory.
This war rages
without end.
  - mce

Hierarchy

The creeds of men
are condoms
creating a barrier
between ourselves
and God.
Consummation
must be direct.
You must enter
and feel the Fire.
The Divine
is a disease
you must want
to catch,
an infection
you must embrace.
Touch and burn.
 - mce

Unoriginal Sin

There is a girl in my cabin.
She sits on my brown, velor
porno couch with her long legs
tucked beneath her
like folded promises.
She wears nothing but a pair
of wool socks and an old, flannel
shirt of mine.  The wood fire blazes.
Her honest blond hair
cascades to the small of her lovely back.
Her skin is the flawless pink
of an unexpected spring sunrise.
Her eyes are emeralds that blaze
like novas when we make love.
Botticelli might have painted her.
I am reading Neruda to her aloud.
She imbibes his words like a toddler
learning language for the first time.
I light her cigarette and she laughs,
radiating the shameless pleasure
only the very young experience.
She expects nothing of me,
but this one evening,
and that is all she will get.
She says her name is Casey;
she is all of twenty-one.
Perhaps I am a dirty old man;
perhaps I am incorrigible;
perhaps I will burn in Hell;
perhaps I am a casualty of Eros;
or, perhaps, I am simply alive.
 - mce

Credo

Judge me if you like,
I do not care.
My sins are mine.
Look to your own.
The flesh beneath
my lips is my choice.
Choose what you must.
I am not a saint,
only a man
caught in my desire,
needing what I need
and taking it.
Get your own.
Take what you need.
Leave me in peace.
I will do the same.
This is all any of us
can manage.
  - mce

Identity

I am a pirate
pacing a quarterdeck
before a battle.
I am Adam
beneath the apple tree
waiting to bite
into the New Order.
I am a hopeful heretic
praying for immolation
but unable
to strike a match.
I am a corpse
writing a will
in blood and semen.
I am a soldier
watching a friend
erupt in a fog
of pink viscera.
I am a madman
twitching on a couch,
forgotten in a corner
of a windowless chamber.
I am a hero
slaying griffins,
destroying dragons,
ravishing maidens
as my rightful reward.
I am a lover
to whom ladies
open their thighs
and abandon
their honor,
willingly.
I am a tone deaf poet
singing a defeated song.
I am the amateur torturer
carefully sharpening
his instruments,
but then unable to find
meaningful work.
I am a voyeur priest
hearing my own
confession
and finding it
absurdly tedious.
I am all of these
impossible people.
Who are you?
  - mce

Prescription

You shall not find solace
in the marble laws of Man.
Self-help programs
will not dispel the emptiness.
Sex alone will not prevail.
The constructs of religion
will not abide your dreams.
God is a disinterested third party
waiting to be approached,
not caring if he is or isn't.
Submit to the vacuum
of your heart at four a.m.
Surrender to the void
that only love can fill.
Drink deeply; hold tight.
Dawn must come.
  - mce

Antipodes

A pirate sailed south, but too far.
The good ship's prow found
harbors filled with icebergs,
frolicking penguins and walruses:
it began to snow inside his mortal soul.
He dreamed of perfect white beaches,
warm sand, sunlight, palm trees
and (perhaps) a lovely French poet in a slight bikini
lolling like Erato on holiday.
He could taste the sun and coconut on her skin.
It was only a vision, but one worthy of a quest.
He preferred living dreams to dead conclusions.
Many people told him he dreamed too much,
to accept this landfall and be content.
But cold and darkness are not a pirate's lot
and contentment does not appear
in the official pirate's vocabulary.
Even an aging pirate holds true to course,
pinned like a medal to his longing and desire.
More sail, he cried, and turned the helm
toward the islands of his heart,
toward a landfall of warmth and color,
toward hot and willing flesh,
toward parrots and monkeys and blue skies.
Leaving the nay-sayers in the cold,
he headed the only direction a pirate can, further.
 - mce

The Sunny South

Woke with a start
from a nightmare
at five a.m.
to find the valley
covered with snow.
Even the weather
betrays me.
  - mce

Slippage

Darkness
leans toward me
like a lover
for a kiss.
So difficult
to resist
her charms.
Darkness,
sleep,
respite.
Perhaps
this time
I'll simply
relent,
surrender
and disappear
inside her
forever.
 - mce

Recycling

I am burning
rotten slabs
of my deck
for kindling.
Slowly,
but surely,
Serenity
recycles
and consumes
herself,
as,
in the end,
we all must.
 - mce

Infidelity

If I betray
my heart,
who is left
to leave me?
  - mce

Encountering Emptiness

I'm waiting for a message.
I'm sitting in a bar.
I've flown 10,000 miles.
I've journeyed from afar.
The stranger who would meet me
is no one that I know;
I dreamed her voice in Paradise,
she told me she would show.
Oh where are you my only love,
when will you dance with me,
step from the crowds into my heart,
I long to set you free.
When will you stand before me,
when will your face appear,
I'm sinking into loneliness,
I'm sinking into fear.
I want to lift your flouncing skirt;
I want to touch your soul;
I want my hands to trace your breasts;
I want to make you whole.
They're wiping down the tables,
it's time to disappear;
I guess that you are far my love
and yet you feel so near.
But I will haunt this table,
each long and empty night
until you finally show up,
until the time is right.
-mce

My Cold

Cold without
and cold within.
I light huge fires
in my stove,
but the embers
of whole forests
do not warm;
I pour the output
of entire distilleries
down my throat,
but the spark
does not catch.
I think
some essential
kindling
is missing.
Perhaps that
is You.
- mce

Hejira

I'm running from the thought police,
I'm reaching for my gun,
the parasites are wriggling
and the madness has begun.
I visited the jungle once
and held onto my heart,
I never knew the reasons why
the darkness fell apart.
Oh take me to your tower
where the ruins of love exist,
I'll pound upon its broken walls
my puny little fist.
But I've no time for poetry,
no time for women's charms,
no time to light the fires of love
or feel its red alarms.
I'm running from the thought police,
I'm reaching for my gun,
the parasites are wriggling
and the madness has begun.
If everything was clear to you
would you tell me what it means
and let me enter in and feel
the wisdom of your dreams.
The sun is thin and chilly,
the dawn is bleak and cold,
the birds have ceased their singing,
my bones are sad and old.
I want my wasted limbs to feel
the power of the dance,
to fling my arms and fall into
a deep ecstatic trance.
But I've no time for dancing,
no time to dream and pine,
the day is broke, the way is up
and they are close behind.
I'm running from the thought police,
I'm reaching for my gun,
the parasites are wriggling
and the madness has begun.
- mce

Thanksgiving

Be thankful
for your breath.
Everything and
everyone else
will leave you;
when your
breath departs,
it won't matter.
- mce

The Definition Of...

A man sits
beside a dry creek
in an unmoving desert
with a fishing pole.
Every day he returns
to that bank,
drops his line
into the sand
and catches nothing.
The sun does not blink.
No water flows.
Not a cloud
disturbs the sky.
He continues to fish.
This is the definition
of hope
and
of insanity.
  - mce

I'd Just Like To Know

Where is God
at four AM?
  - mce

No Port In A Storm

The true Pirate
plots no course.
He knows:
the map
is the wind.
Hoist the sails,
let them fill;
the way
unfolds itself.
Wave crash.
Gull cry.
Always alone
at the helm,
an albatross
stitching
the swells
just ahead
to the sky above.
No destination,
only onward,
only further.
  -mce

Consumation

 - for Leonard Cohen

Sex and death
are the portals
to love and life.
They burn,
they are dangerous,
we are taught
to turn aside
and look away.
And so we do.
Only a few
have the guts
to face
these twin fires;
only a few
find the courage
to cross
these thresholds
into celebration,
ecstasy, madness,
transcendence
or come what may.
These are the lovers,
the poets, the pirates.
They long to see
the naked face
of creation,
to hold
the burning universe
in their open arms,
to penetrate
the Mystery.
They are not afraid
to be consumed.
  - mce

Buttons

How I long
to unbutton you,
Lady, to slowly
peel off the layers
of your being
and feel you,
body and soul,
naked and true,
beneath my
exploring hands,
touching the core
of who you
really are,
there where
you are hidden
beneath it all.

I think, Lady,
you have
been buttoned
against the world
too, too long.

Open the inside
to the outside.

Take a chance.

A world at bay
is no world at all.

Nothing of value
can be learned
at a distance.

Direct my fingers;
they are willing
if you are.

Bare hands,
bare hearts,
bare bodies:

to open,
always better
than close.
- mce

Gratitude

Breaking small,
fallen branches
into kindling
for my stove,
I am grateful
to the wind
that dropped
them,
the trees
that bore
them,
the sun
that nurtured
the trees,
the earth
that fed
those trees,
the rain
that watered
them,
the God
the made all
of this.
So much
magnificent effort,
that one
insignificant man
might be warmed.
  - mce

The Goal

To stand alone
before the Burning Bush.

No Jesus, no Buddha,
no Muhammad,
no intercessors.

To stand alone
before the Burning Bush,
to hear the Voice,
feel the Fire,
to be penetrated
by its Light.

Madness,
enlightenment,
realization,
revelation.

To stand alone
before the Burning Bush.

To become One
with the Am that Is.
  - mce

Sometimes

Sometimes
my heart
feels the kiss
of ecstasy.

Sometimes
my toes
brush the abyss
of madness.

Sometimes
I can't tell
the difference.
  - mce

Petition

Lord, make my mortal heart
like a berry patch,
green with new life,
blue with abundant fruit,
red in the autumn chill,
appropriate and fitting
to your time and season.
  - mce

The Blueberry Bushes Of Autumn

Why This Pirate Life?

Because
I don't want
ever again to be
a businessman
stuck at a desk,
selling shit
to morons.

I'd rather be
Han Shan,
cold and hungry,
uncertain,
but joyous,

writing poems
to the void
on cave walls,

laughing at vanity,
chuckling
at attachment,

wandering the woods
like a happy ghost
riantly doing real work,

struggling
up one mountain,
down the next.

No path; no plan,
but never lost.
  - mce

Leonid Meteor Shower

Four A.M.

Nothing, at first,
then clouds part,
and stars fall
like showers
of seed pearls:

perfect white
particles
of creation,

God's tracers,

tiny droplets
of beauty

raining
on a still,
dark world.
  - mce

Pirate Economics - for Ezra Pound

I have often
been told
I have
an unhealthy
relationship
with money.

Hmm...

America
is reduced
to money
and we now
call that
civilization.

Everything,
including souls,
for sale in the
inescapable
marketplace.

Oh mighty Ez!
You were
so wrong,
but so right.

Where
money rules,
usury follows
breeding filth,
corruption,
decadence.

How do you
have a healthy
relationship
with a disease;
why would you
even want to?

Wash your hands
often.
Keep your
distance.
Avoid infection.

Pick up
your tools.

Think with
your fingers.

Find a better
way to live.
  - mce

Embers To Fire

Beyond the edges
of the dying cities
the human
reasserts itself.
Shacks and gardens,
hermits and wisemen,
woodsmoke rising -
flickering flames
of a new dawn.
  - mce

Consolation

Jesus weeps;
Buddha laughs;
Sufis whirl.
Are we waves
or particles?
Many masters,
one Way.
Listen to
your heart.
The answer
is always
yes.
  - mce

Genesis

The Divine
resonates
at dawn;
rise early -
don't miss it.
Would you
refuse a kiss
from God?
The sun
explodes atop
the ridges:
perfect fire
of creation,
the world
made over.
Embrace
this day;
enter it
like a lover,
yours for
the taking.
  - mce

Kent Nerburn

It is the same for all men. None of us can escape this shadow of the father, even if that shadow fills us with fear, even if it has no name or face. To be worthy of that man, to prove something to that man, to exorcise the memory of that man from every corner of our life—however it affects us, the shadow of that man cannot be denied.

Decision

Three roads,
a wood,
nexus.
The son
stands on now,
behind him,
the past,
the way
to the future
blocked
by his father.
To move
forward
he must take
his father's life.
His question,
the riddle
he must
solve,
that will
forever
shape him -
what to do
with that life,
once taken?
 - mce

Night Watch From A Pirate's Deck

Three A.M.
Standing
on my deck.
No sleep.
Something calls.

Still and frigid,
waiting quietly,
I breathe in and out.

My breath rises
in misty, white
mortal plumes.

Inspiration;
expiration.

Beyond my cabin,
I feel the deer
dancing
in the deep night,
chanting the old
secret songs
of their antlered clan.

Exaltation.

I watch meteors
drop on
the ridge top
like God's tears
streaking the sky.

Clarity.

Two coyotes
howl a duet
in the darkness;
the creek whispers
and I understand.

Revelation.

I think
of your flesh
warm beneath
a thick quilt.

Expectation.

So many marvels
attend me.

Surely I am
a lucky man.
  - mce

The Fabric of Creation

Lovers know
the fabric
of creation.

Entering you,
I return to Paradise.
When your flesh
surrounds me,
the Garden
is restored.

Together
we become
much more
than each other -
one tapestry
woven
of two threads.

How many
existences
to arrive
at this life?

The particles dance,
rearrange, renew;
a universe
constantly reborn.

All of this
endless majesty
that my head
might find
the pillow
of your belly,
that my ears
might feel
the beating
of your heart.

Every breath,
divine
and precious;
each moment
a new world.
- mce

A Prelude To Silence

Pretty words
do not make
a life;
pretty words
do not
make a man.
I am good with
pretty words.
What have
they made me?
No wife,
no kids,
no home.
I have bought
a good deal
of nothing
with my
pretty words.
More;
there must be
more.
I want to sing
meaning
into creation.
I want the stars
to dance
to my songs.
I want
nightingales
to envy me.
I want God
to hear
my breath.
I want trees
to smile
at my syllables.
I want...
I want...
But all
that happens
are more
pretty words.
  - mce

String Theory

Five minutes ago
a chopper beat low
over the valley
above my head.

Thirty Five years
vanished
in an instant.

In that moment,
Serenity
became, again,
a landing zone.

So much
for the space-time
continuum.
 - mce

After The Fall

"God made Love; 
man made shame. 
Which do you choose?" 
- Nazid al-Quabar

In your eyes,
I see God's love;
at your touch,
I feel his Grace;
when you speak,
I hear his music.
Our bodies
are his reflection,
made in his image,
perfect as their creator.
Together, we make
a prayer.
Together, we sing
a psalm.
Together, we return
to the Garden.
Walk with me, Love.
The days are short,
but many steps remain.
Be the missing piece
that completes me;
I will complete you.
Together,
we are more,
than each other.
Together,
we return
to the One.
 - mce

Recovery

A Pirate
buried his dreams
like treasure
for thirty years.
When he
dug them up,
they had changed.
So had he.
Nothing to do,
but sail on.
  - mce

Mental Health Day Agenda

   ~ "God wants nothing of you
but the gift of a peaceful heart."
 - Meister Eckhart

Unplug the phone,
turn off the computer;
eight blissfully
disconnected hours.

Retreat.

Feed kindling
to the fire;
potter about
the cabin;
chop some wood;
read a little Rilke
and Rumi.

Grade some papers;
listen to Scarlatti;
sip a wee dram
of bourbon;
slip into violent,
fitful naps
on the porno couch.

Edgy, uncertain,
un-ease, dis-ease.

Seek the Way back.

Take a long, quiet
walk in the woods -
no noise, no people -
listen intently
to the leaf-song,
become the breeze.

Today, I am
more comfortable
with birds
than humans,
they squawk less.

Why this disturbance
in the field?

Let it go
live its own life.

I'm busy with mine.
  - mce

Potentiality

Damp wood
sizzles;
Dry wood
explodes.
Smoke or fire?
To discover
which you
contain,
you must risk
the flames.
  - mce

Zen Pirates

To capture the harbor
you must first
storm it in your mind.
Sun Tzu would approve.
Brute force fails itself.
Pirates must be
Zen Masters
with eye patches.
Patience conquers all.
Sit quietly, consider,
what will be, is.
  - mce

Reaching For The Latch

A harpsichord's
elegant
dripping notes;
oatmeal
in a simple
white bowl;
morning solitude
in a cold cabin;
chopping kindling
on the frosty deck:
where, exactly,
is here?
  - mce

Patience

Time is the only gift
I have to give.
Unwrap it
moment by moment.
You are opening
my heart.
  - mce

Zehn Aphorismus

Tending the fire
is tedious,
but necessary.

Money is very handy
when your tooth aches.

Everyone quits smoking
when they die.

Love hurts:
loneliness hurts
worse.

Whiskey may not be
warmer than her breasts,
but is usually more available.

When someone tells you
something is better than sex,
they are lying.

Every newborn
has the Buddha nature...
for about thirty seconds.

Asking if this spiritual path or that
leads to God is like asking
if a photon is a wave or particle.
The answer is always yes.

Death is the answer;
the difficult part
is figuring out the question.

There are no
Republican pirates.
  - mce

Another Dawn Patrol

Lovers live hard lives;
always in that no-man's land
between self and other.
  - mce

The Battle

I am weary
of being at war
with time;
take my hand,
lead me to
a country
without clocks.
  - mce

Reading Han Shan

When I die
my words will scatter
like fallen leaves.
All I have made
blown carelessly
to four corners.
This is both
heartbreaking
and amusing.
They are
not really mine
anyway.
Hold on to nothing,
you become free
to do anything.
  - mce

Leap Before You Look

Let me be drunk
on your beauty.
Let me be warmed
by your touch.
Let your arms
enfold my heart.
Let your grace
wash over me.
Do not withhold
yourself, Love.
Death hovers
wearing
a patient grin.
So little time
and none
to waste.
 - mce

What Is Required

Fill the cold stove,
strike a match.
Feed it small bits
of hard, dry wood,
carefully, until
the flames
leap and dance
with burning joy,
fierce ecstasy.
Life, like a fire,
must be tended.
  - mce

Bucket List

Visit Tibet
while it still exists.
Quit smoking.
Forget the war.
Complete
a pilgrimage
to Rumi's tomb.
Experience
the world
as an
Indigo Bunting.
Strike a truce
with the past.
Learn to cook.
Make
passionate love
with a nice
southern girl.
Find
the meaning
of life
and set it free.
Eat more
paw-paws.
Resolve
the mystery
of the Three.
So many things
remain
to do, to be.
 - mce

Aluminum Umbilical

Sometimes,
waking alone,
I read
my thirty-eight
year old dog tag
to remind myself
who I am,
that I am.
It is the umbilical
that connects me
to life;
all there is
that says
I was
even here.
  - mce

I'm Just Saying

 - for Judith

On a cold morning,
warm cinnamon buns
exceed enlightenment.
  - mce

Confusion

I bitched
because my path
was fraught
with obstacles;
now I see:
the obstacles
are my path.
  - mce

Waking to Reality

When you are cold,
don't whine,
build a fire;
the meaning of life,
always close at hand.
  - mce

Georg Trakl: A Translation

An Evening In Winter

When snow kisses
my window
the evening bells
seem to peal forever...

The table is set,
the house neat,
prepared to receive.

From wandering,
many follow
their dusky paths
to this portal.

The earth's cool sap
sprouts a flowering tree
dripping golden grace.

Be still, sojourner, step in:
Sorrow has worried
this threshold
to naked stone.

But  look:
wrapped in pristine,
radiant light,
there on the table,
shine bread and wine.
  - trans. mce

Celebration for a Gray Day

Outside, rain;
inside, a party.
A little bourbon
against the chill;
warm wood fire;
a few friends
visit for the day.
Neruda, Sexton,
Rilke and Rumi
read;
Mozart and Scarlatti
play;
Magritte and Dali
present
surreal rainbows -
who says
I don't know how
to entertain?
  - mce

Refuge

 - for Hector and Susie Black

Your kitchen -
cordial, like
the beating heart
of a good man.
How many lost souls
have found asylum
at this long table?
Cold day, warm hearth -
sanctuary.
  - mce

Best Advice

- for Luke

I advise
my God Son
(for whom
I am called
to be wise),
just watch
what I do
and you do
the opposite.
You'll be fine.
  - mce

A Journey of a Thousand Miles

Build a fire;
face the day.
So many roads
yet to walk.
Where do
they all lead?
Can't know;
doesn't matter:
take a step.
  - mce

Know Thyself

World says, must;
I say, won't:
pain results.
Classic definition
of a fuck-up.
  - mce

Encounter

The leaf-mottled
copperhead coiled
near my woodpile,
rendered sluggish
and harmless
by the cold,
makes no move
to strike.
Its flat eyes
simply stare,
as if to say:
welcome
to the Garden.
  - mce

Rainer Maria Rilke - Two Translations from the German

Over and Over

Over and over,
no matter how vividly
we know love's landscape
and the lost cemetery
with its sad names
and the chasm into which
the others have fallen,
once again we walk together
beneath ancient trees
and lie down entwined
among the blossoms
facing the sky.
  - trans. mce

Autumn Day

God, the time is now.
Summer was vast.
Drop your shadow
across the sundials
and loose your breath
upon the fields.

Command the last fruits
to fullness,
allow them a few warm days
to discover ripeness
and press their sweetness
into heavy wine.

No time remains
to seek refuge.

If you are now alone
you will remain so
for a long, long time.

You will stay up late,
writing letters
to no one,
restlessly wandering
the hollow streets
while the leaves
tumble aimlessly.
  - trans. mce

Original Face

Frost -
leaf crunch
golden,
underfoot.

A man is
walking
down a road
thinking
of a man
walking
down a road
thinking...

Two red-tail hawks
circle above them.

Which man
is he?
 - mce

Other Harbors

A pirate
sails in
and then
sails away;
what a pirate
cannot do
is stay.
  - mce

The Geography of Love

I do not understand
the geography of love.
Perhaps I dozed
through that class.
Again and again,
I lose my way
in Love’s wilderness.
When I ask directions,
women answer
in languages
I can’t understand.
So many wrong turns.
So many dead ends.
Sister, if you
know the way,
show me the way.
  - mce

Permanence

Five years on,
Struggle Mountain
remains home.
The world
has fallen away -
people, possessions,
beliefs -
like autumn leaves.
Bare trees,
frosty mornings,
my own breath,
solitude;
only the same wind
speaks to me.
It whispers:
wake up,
get up,
show up,
expect nothing -
the one thing
in all creation
you can count on.
  - mce

Intoxication

Open yourself
to me
like a delicate,
fresh blossom;
I will become
a wanton,
profligate
hummingbird
getting drunk
on the nectar
of your soul.
  - mce

Carnal Knowledge 1968

Making love,
that first time,
in the cemetery
near the
Civil War statue,
our passion
disturbed
a flock of doves
feeding among
the tombstones.
White streaks
exploded
into blue sky.
One kind
of innocence
flown
forever.
  - mce

Koan

Sometimes,
I am lonely;
sometimes,
I am content;
sometimes,
both occur
at once.
Contradiction -
the face of God,
laughing.
  - mce

TANSTAAFL

If you knew
what to do
with your life,
it wouldn't be
your life.

It would be
a poem
written by
a stranger.

Uncertainty
is the price
for singing
your own song,
adventure,
authenticity,
the rewards.

Courage:

lift up
your voice,
sing
as if your
whole life
depends on it.

It does.
  - mce

ΕΛΕΥΘΕΡΙΑ

In bondage,
he knew it all;
free now,
he knows nothing.
Even a pirate's life
comes with a price.
  - mce

The Uncertainty Of Creation

Letters - tinder;
syllables - spark;
words - embers;
poems - flames;
unless the breath
of imagination fails.
Then, only cold
gray smoke.
  - mce

The Horticulture Of Joy

He planted a garden
to save his mind
and change his life.
It blossomed -
color, texture, fragrance -
plenitude of beauty,
but his soul withered
and all remained the same.
Later, far from there,
he allowed a garden
to grow inside his heart.
Everything changed,
forever.
  - mce

Debbie

Your eyes
are the color
of Tennessee
whiskey,
only smoother,
warmer,
and more
intoxicating. 
  - mce

The Futility Of Anger

When you stand
in your own shadow,
it is absurd
to curse the darkness.
  - mce

She Was Right

An old lover
called me Messy.
The detritus
of my life
sprawls upon
every available
surface.
Mind of man,
clutter;
mind of God,
order.
So much more
work to do.
  - mce

Zen Insight

If you understand, things are just as they are;
if you do not understand, things are just as they are.

Serenity Morning

Hard frost;
steaming creek;
freezing cabin.

Light a fire;
build it bigger;
make it roar.

The illusions
of past lives
draw up
the flue,
sail out
the chimney.

Expect nothing;
be on fire
from within.

One life only
and this is it.
  - mce

Dog Or Butterfly?

I awoke
from a dream
of waking
beside
your warmth:
a dream
of waking
into a dream.
  - mce

Tell Me More

Your voice, Lady,
enchants me:
I want to know
your whole story.
If only you
understood
how closely
I listen
when you speak.
How I wrap
my mind around
your words
like my arms
enfold your body.
You are
a warrior woman;
the heroine
of an old,
noble tale.
Tell me again
how a maiden
came to be trapped
in a labyrinth
she did not devise;
how she struggled
and fought
and kept moving
until she won through
and broke free.
It speaks
high adventure
and courage.
Your voice, Lady,
enchants me.
I want to know
all of you.
- mce

Old Friend

Struggle Mountain
you have noticeably
flattened out.
Peak or plateau?
Doesn't matter.
You remain
the only mountain
I will ever know.
  - mce

Lose To Gain

Losing everything
freed me to see
what really matters:
the barn burns down -
suddenly, the moon
comes into view.
- mce

Destinations

The topography
of your woman's body
speaks a map
of promised delight.

Your eyes,
deep brown oceans
to sail within;
your lips,
yielding portals
to the unknown;
your belly,
an undulating plain
of pleasures
to cross;
your breasts,
gentle, rising,
white hills of joy
to climb;
between
your soft thighs,
a ripe female valley
of desire
to enter.

Above it all
your spirit
soars
like flocks
of doves
in limpid
morning light.

Only to be worthy
to cross over
into these
promised lands.

New worlds
to explore;
new creations
to pioneer:

New places
where souls
might touch.
- mce

Plato Was Right

Last night
I dreamed of war.
The choppers buzzed
like mad whirring insects,
the napalm exploded
like hell's own fire,
the wounded screamed
like tortured babies,
the dying begged me
to tell them why
and I couldn't
because there is
no why in war,
no moral, no reason.
Waking, I dream
of dreams of peace
that will never arrive.
Only the dead
know the end of war.
 - mce

A Pirate Looks At Sixty

The broken heart
cannot sing alone,
nor the lonely hand
take up the brush.

Take my hand
and walk into
the garden.

Sing this life
with me.

Let me kiss
the world
with your lips.

Let me see
the earth
fresh
through
your eyes.

Touch me,
touching you,
touching all
of creation.

Love bends time.

There are
masterpieces
yet to paint.

Color, texture,
tint and hue...

I will be
your canvas,
you mine.

The desire
for connection
never ends.

The need
for wholeness
where soul
has been rent:

human,
oh so human,
but also
divine.
 - mce

Birthday Song

"Let us forget with generosity
those who cannot love us"- Pablo Neruda

Fifty-eight
is not a kid,
not even
middle-aged.

The end game
looms.

Time to turn off
the past
and be where
and who I am.

No more ghosts,
old lovers,
ruined life,
lost children:
no more contrition.

I have made
my apologies
too many times.

Now, I set it all free.

Time to venture
into what's left,
alone but unafraid.

Here I go.
  - mce

Flight

This morning,
walking Spring Creek,
I spooked a doe
in the meadow below.
Mist hugged the earth
tight as a glove.
All I could see
was her tawny head
bobbing in the rain
as she fled.
  - mce

Ineluctable Reality

A thirty foot
unprotected walk
through pouring rain
to the outhouse.

Looking In/Looking Out

Eyes are windows
and mirrors,
simultaneously
transparent
and specular:
look through mine
and see the heart
that calls out
your name;
look at mine
and see the image
of all I desire
reflected back
as your own face.
Don't worry.
I won't blink.
  - mce

Considering Schrödinger's Cat On A Rainy Tennessee Morning

Had I a wife
I would love her;
had I a son,
I would love him;
had I a cat,
I would love it.
Having none
of these,
I choose
to love them
anyway.
Three boxes
to open;
three choices
to make;
three worlds
to create.
- mce

"Perfection Of A Kind..."

The Gulag
was not a system;
Auschwitz
was not a camp;
Wounded Knee
was not a battle;
My Lai
was not a village.

They are all
an impulse
never far
from the thoughts
of men,
never truly absent.

The desire
to dominate
lurks in every
human heart.

Peel back
but a few layers
of civilization
(easily done):
the whole world
explodes
into  holocaust.
 - mce

Thermonuclear Love

We will bury ourselves
each into the other -
turning, exploring,
finding, knowing -
until the night
collapses upon us,
until we destroy
the darkness,
until our souls
flare incandescent,
radiant, effulgent,
until light explodes
from the touching
of our bodies.
Thermonuclear love.
 - mce

Ashes And Embers

Softly I dream
the bronze
pealing notes
of your laughter,
imagine
the subtle knowledge
of your tiny hands,
feel the warmth
in the whispering kitten
of your voice.

Nothing remains
to desire.

If the searing flames
of your beauty
would consume me,
my soul could
find contentment
in ashes and embers.
  - mce

Eternal Return

Everything dies,
but nothing ends.

Into the Bardo
we go,
for a moment,
and then return,
eternally.

The Wheel
of Life
never ceases
to spin:

war, death,
love, loss -
the taste
of wine,
the brush
of your lips
on mine;

this has all
happened before;
this will all
happen again.
  - mce

Contentment After Long Struggle

The simple warmth
of morning sunlight
on my face.

A few memories,
a little music,
the gentle murmur
of flowing water,
some small things
to anticipate.

Not a lot to ask,
but so much
to finally have.
  - mce

Circle Of Love

- for Carole St-Aubin

The dream
of true love:
affection
and soul
that collapse
decades
to find their
proper object.

What we all
want;
what so few
discover.

But real,
real beyond
the mundane
constraints
of time
and life.

True love,
forever
and ever.

A perfect rose
stubbornly
blooming,
warm and
scarlet,
against
the killing
frost
of eternity.

Testament
to the hope
and heart
that live
within us all.
  - mce

Poet's Lament

Too busy
to write
equals
too busy
to breathe:
lately,
I find myself
gasping.
  - mce

Yesterday's Blueberries

"À la recherche du temps perdu..."
 
Pale gray of gun-metal,
the sky lowers on the valley:
random sunbeams
rend floating mist banks.

On the ridges,
trees weep fall colors,
russet, pumpkin, fawn,
a few leaves streaked
tentative red against
fading greenness.

Scarlet rumors
mottle the patch.

Yesterday's blueberries
gone now,
picked, savored, relished:
lovely, sweet, indigo memories
facing backward
to fading summer warmth.

Yesterday's lovers, friends,
wars, deaths, children:
safe to remember
as the fire crackles
and the wood smoke rises.

Living again,
whole and complete,
pleasant to recall,
they dwell
consummate
in memory
where all things past
truly belong,
where all things past
must rest.
  - mce

The First Noble Truth

Wanting makes weary:
only the flutter
of your eyelids
saying yes
can deliver me
to the end of desire.
  - mce

"A Princess To Rescue..."

Lady, in the distance

a white tower,
pale as a dream,
looms in shrouding mist.
Enchantment and magic,
some dark,
some dangerous,
murmur within
this dripping morning.
Hold tight to me
against the chill.
We must traverse
this haunted forest
to reach our goal;
we must push on,
beset by ghosts,
by fear and doubt,
until we cross
the steaming moat
and arrive safely
before the great hall's
warming hearth,
there to rest
in each other's arms.
This journey
was never meant
to be traveled alone.
Ride out with me, Lady.
Cling to me.
We are nearly there.

 - mce

Chop Wood, Carry Water

Another day
to show up for.

Chores to do,
classes to teach,
choices to make:

nothing special.

Just what is,
just all that is,
just everything
that matters.
  - mce

Princess Poem #3

May your
broken heart
one day
be as whole
and healed
as your touch
made mine.
The world
sings sweetly:
listen.
  - mce

Suit

Let me cast
my heart
like a net
of desire
upon the body
of your soul.

Let us
struggle,
gently,
within it.

Let us
writhe
and turn
as one.

Let us
be caught
together.

Sweetest
bondage.
  -mce

Impending Birthday Considerations

October sings,
time passes;
another year,
another verse.

How many stanzas
remain in the book
of my life?

How many songs
remain unsung?

What lips remain
to be opened?

How soon before
purple nightingales
sing me
through eternity?

Nothing
can be known,
for sure,
except that
each October
another page turns
and one fewer
remains.
- mce

"I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair"

 - for Pablo Neruda

In your poems
the sun sang
yellow invitations,
eagles swam
in lilac ink,
butterflies discoursed
on desire,
the moon
whispered white
mysteries.

Your syllables said:
these are my arms, Lady,
lose that silky frock
and come into them.

My love feeds
on your love,
Love.

My lips
are for you.

You are mine;
I am yours.

We stand here,
the briefest moment;
let us stand together,
naked in eternity.

Dare to embrace this,
you murmured,
for it is all
the world can offer.

Eyelids fluttered out
ardent yeses;
sighs replied;
fingers danced;
many dresses
glided to the floor
with tiny gasps
of imagined pleasure.

Flesh and spirit
conjoined.

What woman,
could resist
the implacable sweetness
of your songs?

What woman,
having a heart
to hear,
would want to try?
 - mce

Reading Borges At The Laundromat

Every life,
a history crafted
from memory
and oblivion.

The forgotten,
misplaced,
and excluded
have a voice.

White spaces
on a printed page;
emptiness
between
notes of music;
missing children;
cold loves;
dead comrades...

Silence
speaks aloud
when we
quiet our souls
and listen.

Stories
we don't tell,
but know,
saved within
the labyrinthine,
lost libraries
of the heart.
  - mce

Warlock Song

My life is spoken
in these fragile,
dangerous words.

I am a mad poet
nearing the end game,
calling out syllables
to tame creation.

My home is
an enchanted,
hovering shack,
a magician's lair,
from which
I lure the world to me
with spells
and incantations;
its portal carved
with runes and symbols,
white magic and dark.

To enter requires
you speak aloud
the appropriate charm:
do not fear.

Say it and you are inside,
warm and welcome.

Outside, running water
sings an anthem
that might save us all
if we but listen, heed,
and dissolve into it,
unafraid.

Choose or conjoin,
but do not be still:
the world will never
welcome cowards.

Arm yourself;
accept this quest.

Inside, outside;
poems and music;
magic and love:
seek the words
that embrace them all.

An old poet
at the year's turning,
mad and waiting,
calling out,
taking in,
trying to conjure
the words
that make life whole.
  - mce

The Turning Of The Year

First real autumn morning
crisp air and fallen leaves;
sound of a harpsichord
haunting the chilly breeze;
rough flannel scratches
my shivering skin.

Build a small fire
from twigs and branches,
breathe it to life;
blow on the embers
of what remains.

How many roads
led to this moment?

Where do they lead
from here?

No answers,
just fall nuzzling
my wanderlust,
making me consider
all my possibilities,
the coming of the cold,
the passing of my days.

Be like
a Long Hunter:
break camp,
accept the journey,
move on to see
what lies beyond
the mountains
just over there,
calling.
  - mce

Surfing The Inevitable

All around me
the sound of water
falling, dripping,
running, flowing;
the surging creek
roars past my deck.

Life rises to meet us
like a stream at flood
engulfing our dreams,
drowning our hopes,
sweeping us on
to unknown sea.

Ride the current;
dance on the rivulets;
accept the cascade.

Be the waters.

No use at all
fighting the deluge.
  - mce

Spice It Up

If creation
were simple,
it would be boring.

Contradictions,
internal and  external,
the garlic
of existence:

Pass me that clove!
 - mce

Trying To Clean My Cabin

I'm no good at this
and my cabin doesn't help.

Decades of dirt and grime,
a decaying outhouse,
cobwebs and insects,
windows nearly opaque:
Serenity, you are lovely,
but you are filthy.

I am in urgent need
of a French maid
(uniform optional).

Or, maybe, I'll just continue
not to look too closely.

Ah, the bachelor's life!
  - mce

All Caught Up

Too wrapped up
in life's draining details,
days slip away
like poems
imagined in bed,
gone before
they can even be
written down.

I will not
ever again allow
the rent situation
to steal the colors
of my days.

Thirty years
in a world
drained
of tints and hues
left me
greedy
for every shade
the earth offers.

Hummingbird
purple;
screaming sunset
pink;
deep, verdant tree
green;
floating, misty sky
gray;
the alabaster
white
of yielding
human skin:

these things
must never
be overlooked
merely
for money,
just to pay
the bills.

I want the earth
to paint me
like a canvas
with all the
tones and textures
creation exudes.

The rent
will be paid,
but I insist
on being
a poet
first.
  - mce

Nine Adaptations of Fragments By Sappho

Blogmeister's Note: I decided to combine these in one post for easier reading and less clutter. Again, these are adaptations in Ezra Pound's tradition, not translations. - mce

I

The moon is gone,
the Pleiades vanished,
my youth deserts me.
In night's darkest heart,
time streams on
and yet I sleep alone.

II

On feather beds,
we spent our desire,
dancing within
each other
until no holy place
remained untouched.

III

The Muses instructed me;
My honor is their craft.

IV

We shall enjoy
each other, Love;
let stillness and sorrow
stalk those
who disapprove.

V

No warning!
A torrent strikes
the stout oak
as love strikes
my heart.

VI

Stars hide their faces
when the moon's splendor
smiles and shines
upon the earth.

VII

Taking the lyre
into my hands,
my fingers
invited it
to speak
a lover's voice.

VII

You
have set
my heart
alight.

IX

I thirst
and
I burn.

Not Rocket Science

Poetry
is the sound
of your heart
speaking aloud.
Listen.
Ignore the voices
that say no,
and you
are already
a poet.
- mce

War/Words

Kraut, Nip,
Slope, Gook,
Towel Head:
you call them
whatever
allows you
to murder them
comfortably;
the terrible
dark side
of the power
of words.
  - mce

The Other Side Of Suffering

After three long years
of real, living Hell
replete with actual devils,
demons and pitchforks,
I find myself content
and at peace
in a lush, green haven.

On the other side of suffering
(if you survive, my friend)
there is life.

What a miraculous surprise;
what an unexpected blessing:

just to be me and to be here,
alive and breathing,
on this lovely evening.
  - mce

Blush With Me

I am thinking
of you, Lady,
and my thoughts,
while tantalizing,
energizing,
and enjoyable,
are not, exactly,
of the purest sort.

Well now,
how I wonder
what runs through
through that
pretty mind
of yours.

Would I blush
to know?

Oh, I hope so.
  - mce

Columbus Notebook

Beginning a new notebook
always makes me feel
like confused, but excited,
Christopher Columbus
stepping ashore that first time
into a fresh, new world
with no idea what lies ahead.
  - mce

Found Poem

Slipping on
one of the work shoes
I leave on my deck,
I discovered
two hickory nuts.

No doubt,
the shamelessly
bold squirrel
who struts about
out there
as if he
owns the place
left them.

He will be
disappointed
when he returns,
but I am charmed
by his tiny offering.

Who knew
that in Tennessee
even squirrels
provide take out?
  - mce

Better Than A Wife

How I love

my humble cabin
that floats
like a dream
in this lush, green
magical valley.

And she
loves me back!

When I return
and open the door
after any absence,
she whispers to me:

Honey, you're home,

(and means it).

Simple warmth.
Simple welcome.
Simple delight.
  - mce

Those Lost Noble Ladies

I love to imagine
noble ladies
of olden times,
burning on pyres
for God
or waiting
patiently
for death
in chilly castles,
like Joan of Arc
at Rouen,
like Mary,
Queen of Scots
at Fotheringay.

Their loveliness,
frozen in time,
caught like
doomed roses
kissed by frost.

Their pale,
cold arms
reach
across
centuries
and touch,
but cannot
satisfy me.

You, Lady,
are here
and warm
and now,
your arms
more fetching,
your heart
more noble,
the living blood
of you more
desirable
than any
ghostly lover.

Let us create
a new legend,
together.

The bards
may sing it
or not.

Only
to live it out
matters.
- mce

"I Have No Fear Of Time"

Autumn chill
seeps from this
damp morning.

Goldenrod,
Bull Thistle,
Calico Aster,
Bellflower:
the weeds
whisper
the year
is turning.

I hear them
and heed them,
build a small fire,
put on an old
flannel shirt,
sip hot coffee
and consider
that I
am turning
as well.

Along the way,

the journey
has become
the destination.

Nothing

to fear.

Gems

Like gold,
you find them
where you find them;
faster, the harder
you dig.
People, books,
ideas, poems
and songs,
there at the opening
of a mouth,
a door, a book,
a heart,
that change you
forever.
Keep mining,
brothers and sisters:
these pickings
be rich.
- mce

Just Another Prayer

Sometimes, Lord,
I am a creekbed
dry as death.
Water my life
with Grace
that flows.
Let your current
drive my heart.
Sweep my doubts
away.
Make me surge.
  - mce

Debris

Down pours the rain,
three days falling;
up surges the creek,
testing its banks.

Flood time.

The water carries
hay bales, tree limbs,
silt and beer cans.

Debris.

Life is a creek
strained
to overflowing,
testing our limits.

The debris
it sweeps along
the very stuff
of our being.
  - mce

Beginning With Only A Sound

Ah, the swoosh
of your dress
gliding off you,
finding the floor!

It pools black
and elegant
at my feet,
an entrancing
erotic puddle.

But I
cannot look.

Nothing between
us now but
silk and flesh,
my hands
and fingers
have become
the only eyes
I have,
the only eyes
I need.

Your soft
yielding skin
offers
all the seeing
and knowing
they crave.

Love,
let them
look closely
and discover
the delicious
details
of the world
you are.

This seeing
transforms lust
into magic,
makes
a ceremony
of desire.

It can lift us
off the earth.

Soar with me.

Touch me
like the sound
of that black dress,
falling.

What more
is necessary?
  - mce

Two Questions For The Rain

Too lazy
to take a shower
and face the day,
I sit on the deck
under the tin roof
listening to Vivaldi
and raindrops.

Staring out into the mist,
I imagine your lips,
your eyes, your arms,
your deep, sweet warmth.

Where are you love?

Don't you know
you should be here?
  - mce

Where I Live: Spring Creek Valley

The ridge line across the valley from Serenity floats in rain and mist. This from my deck along with Bach and coffee. Eat your heart out, Han Shan...

Settling In

My adopted,
native state!
Once I have
acquired
Tennessee tags,
a dog, a gun
and a pickup,
no one
will ever
again
suspect me
of being
but
a fleeing
refugee
Yankee.
Ah, home...
  - mce

Where To Find Them

A strong rain
pummels this
silent valley;
my bank account
contains $29.87;
I could really use
a new pair
of shoes;
far from here,
in Afghanistan,
brave men
fight and die
for nothing at all.
These are facts
and every fact
contains a poem,
if only we
look hard enough
and have the guts
to write it down.
 - mce

Laundry Day In An Old Man's Soul

Love, my old life,
looking at sixty,
is a laundry basket
filled to overflowing
with memories and fears
that need to be
washed, folded
and put away
that my remaining time
can be enjoyed
fresh, clean and free
of past stains (and sins).
I know, Love,
it is much to ask,
but will you go
to the laundromat
with me?
  - mce

Screams and Sighs: A Poem For Anne Sexton

I dream of writing words
that conjure screams and sighs,
that force my readers
to turn away and look back,
fascinated and repelled,
locked and paralyzed
by my serpentine stare,
by my hypnotic intensity.
Screams and sighs like those
that exploded from your pages
like verbal napalm
illuminating the naked horror
of the life that led you
to take your own.
You were a wise, wild woman
whose fierce, fearless words
sprang from a fountain
of uncertainty and chaos;
but your pen never faltered,
not until the weight of living
became too much to bear
and drove you, disconsolate,
to the locked garage,
the running engine,
suffocation and death alone,
without screams or sighs.
The critics and the madness
that plagued your soul
are vanished now.
Only your white hot
woman's words survive,
searing my brain,
the living brains of many.
I hope you have found respite,
far from screams and sighs.
Be at peace, Sister.
- mce

A List of Joys

Blogmeister's note: I was once asked to make a list of things that bring me joy. This is what I came up with. I found it again yesterday. It still holds up. I publish it here especially as a gift for those who knew and sustained me in my bleaker days. These are some of what I found on the other side of all that suffering.

*****

Real work, whether of mind or body. Real work isn't a job or an occupation. It is any effort that occurs when what you know and what you do converge with who you really are.

Mammalian warmth: the touch of human bodies in all it's wonder and pleasure that reminds me of Nietzsche's saying, "First, be a healthy animal."

A cat's purr. It's existence requires no justification; it is complete in itself.

Blueberries, the plants and the fruit. A feast for every sense.

Books, movies, and works of art that are so compelling they take you on a vacation from reality by creating their own more vivid reality.

My white, 1997 Saturn with 192,000 miles on it. A gift from an angel, I call her Moby and together we sail the asphalt seas. She's a real lady.

Birds. They fill the world with color and music and desire no profit in return.

A lovely woman with bare legs in a sun dress. As Wallace Stevens said, "Beauty is momentary in the mind, the fitful tracing of a portal, but in the flesh it is immortal."

The electric charge of lips touching lips, of flesh brushing flesh.

Anything, on a woman, that is made of silk. Silk is exquisite, elegant and erotic.

Tennessee, my unexpected, verdant refuge and hope.

Weeds that flower, because their beauty is unexpected.

Evan Williams bourbon. Exquisite, distilled napalm that burns and satisfies.

Cool evenings after hot days.

Conversation that sparkles with intelligence, wit and conviviality.

Warren Zevon, Thelonious Monk and Mozart, not necessarily in that order.

True friends. When the chips are down, they are a treasure more valuable than even family.

The magical, healing sound of flowing water.

Trees, especially the deciduous. Their greenness speaks to and cools my spirit.

Writing and reading poetry, my craft and my solace.

Love. It is elusive and difficult and perhaps impossible, but the belief that it may be out there sustains even the jaded, aging life.

The fecundity of the unexpected.

Fireflies. Almost too much beauty for one world.

Sunrises, because they bring the undeserved possibility of another shot at redemption.

Garlic, the spice of the gods.

And on and on...
- mce

At The End Of Energy

Sometimes,
an evening alone
with bourbon
and Mozart
is all that
I can manage.
- mce

OK, That's Enough Now

All day,
since seven,
I have written.
My mind
is singed
and jumpy,
nervous
and edgy.
I need a nap,
but still words
pile upon words.
Bourbon
does not help;
the assault
continues.
It is good
to be a poet,
but sometimes
rest would be
better.
- mce

The Fingerprints of Words Upon My Neck

Poetry is powerful
because it is real;
it grabs our throats
and makes us feel.

Real as the dead cat
upon the road,
at noon, smashed flat.

Real as the wounded men
I have known,
who will never walk again.

Real as the broken heart
that, having stopped,
will not restart.

Real as the delight
with which your body
fills my night.

Real as your love
nestled in my heart,
soft and gentle as a dove.

Real as death
whose siren call,
forgets, in the end,
no one at all.

Poetry is powerful
and real, indeed,
it grabs our throats,
it makes us read.
- mce

Decision

At some point,
like Jeanne d'Arc
at that crucial moment,
you must trust,
and step into the fire.
- mce

''The greatest poverty is not to live / In a physical world.''

I rejoice as
this soft breeze
caresses my naked,
mammal body.
The wanton
sensuality of it,
like feeling
the touch
of a thousand
angel fingers.
I may not
be beautiful,
but, oh,
I am alive,
a living man
in a lovely world.
Ah, the joy
of being flesh
on this cool,
fall morning.
This magical
conjunction
of skin and air;
how it awakens
my heart!
- mce

Peregrination

Kiss me, Love.

Your body
is a soft,
white temple
discovered
at the end
of arduous
pilgrimage.

I stand
before you,
the pilgrim
who knocks,
waits,
and hopes.

Kiss me;
open your
secret heart
that I might
enter you
and dissolve
in your
mysteries.

Let me worship
at the altar
of your flesh,
of your spirit.

I have traveled
long and hard
seeking
the one
engendered
by two.

I tremble before
the possibility
of who you are,
who you might be.

Kiss me, Love,
please be
the end
of my journey,
the sanctuary
I have sought.
- mce

Ghosts

Rain drop drip,
mist pale
as starving
white ghosts
clings
to tree limbs,
deck railing,
undergrowth.

A world
lightly glazed
or frosted
like a wedding cake
catered by God.

What secrets
this valley
whispers
through the damp
morning chill.

Cherokees,
long hunters,
dirt farmers,
lost hippies.

Listen closely and
the land speaks
their spirit stories.

In this drifting mist
their insubstantial
shades seek
to live again.

Actions of the heart,
lives of the past:

Nothing
the world
has seen
is ever
truly,
completely
lost.
- mce

Waking to Words

Finding my voice
after long, lost silence
was a powerful joy.

Hearing, again,
my own songs,
levitates my soul
and restores
the me to me.

These humble songs
return the red, live blood
to longing veins,
to a hungry heart.

But the songs
themselves are not
what really matters.

It is the homely,
jubilant act
of simply singing
that engenders ecstasy,
that says to me:

You are still alive - live.
- mce

A Humble Gift

Love, let me pick you
a bright bouquet,
all the flowers
of the day,
now, at our start,
freshly plucked
from the garden
of my heart.
Not as much
as you deserve,
but mine to offer,
and I do:
all I have to give,
but true.
- mce

Encountering Mystery

A too damned bold squirrel
saunters across my deck railing
clutching a green hickory nut
tightly in its sharp, greedy mouth.
It stops, nonchalantly,
fluffs its absurd tail,
and peers deep into my eyes.
Silently, I stare right back.
What can we possibly be thinking?
- mce

The Universal Soldier Speaks At Last

I fought before
the painted ships
beneath the walls
of fabled Troy;
caught a bullet
in the blazing
summer heat
of Gettysburg;
drowned gurgling
in the gory mud
of the Somme;
jumped into
Normandy
and died
strung up
in the trees;
killed Charlie
again and again,
to no avail,
in a thousand
fire fights
from Saigon
to Da Nang.
I have always
done your
bloody bidding,
the red-stained
wet work
that keeps you
fat and safe.
I have always
answered
your call.
Always.
But my heart
will always
despise you
for making me
do it.
- mce

Balm

Love,
I must live
through this
too short day
in this
too hard world;
how it soothes
me to know
you are living
in it, as well.
- mce

Thanks A Lot Werner Heisenberg...

So little
can be known
for sure.

Will that
precipitously
leaning tree
fall on my cabin?

Will my money
last as long
as this month?

Will my
aging car
keep the faith?

Will my sons
ever love me
again?

Will she take
a deep breath
and a chance
on me?

Uncertainty:
the condiment
that makes life
nerve-wracking,
but delicious.
- mce

The Value of Insomnia

Better than nightmares,
but not by much.
- mce

Anxiety

You are afraid
the other shoe
will drop;
you are afraid
the other shoe
won't drop.
Better, I think,
to choose
to go barefoot
and enjoy the day.
- mce

Ithaca Redux

Let me, Love,
but kiss away
your final fears
and we,
like Penelope
and Odysseus,
will face the world,
deep-rooted
and strong,
proof against
the waning years.
- mce

Useless Disinctions

The pure trill
of birdsong;
the perfect
harmony
of Mozart.
Sometimes,
no difference
at all.
-mce

Without Even An Alarm Clock

Above the tree line
the sun explodes
in bright wonder,
overflowing light
upon the berries,
birds and trees,
down into
the valley dawn.
This moment
of conception
whispers a memory
of that very first day:
the luminous
mind of God
spilling across
Creation.
- mce

Contradiction

Wise woman,
little girl;
two spirits,
one vessel:
how do you know
who you are?
- mce

"The Awful Daring Of A Moment's Surrender"

- for Debbie

Your humble suitor
arrives with empty pockets
blueberries, Mozart
and many questions.
He has traveled a road
he never imagined
to stand upon your steps.
Miles upon miles
are burned behind him.
Doors sometimes
open to possibilities
beyond prediction,
occasionally
to disaster.
To open is to know.
He shifts from foot to foot,
takes a deep breath,
and considers
in one long instant
the implications of his action.
Door; opening; portal.
He lifts his hand
and hopefully
knocks upon
the unknown future.
The door swings open,
the dance begins.
- mce

One Kiss

One kiss, love,
can offer up
a world unborn,
as a seed
holds the flower
not yet sprouted
but no less real
before its green
becoming.

It can murmur
many words
in languages
as yet unlearned
foretelling stories
still to be written.

In one kiss
resides
the possibility
of hope,
the danger
of hurt.

One kiss, Love,
offers a chance
we can risk
or refuse,
a portal
that opens
or closes.

Our choice.

One kiss, Love,
so little,
and, perhaps,
so much.
- mce

Evening/Interlude

Your face floats before me
in the darkening evening,
like a white, soft, exotic Lilly
gently parting the murky dusk,
growing up, reaching out
to gather the dying day's
last, sweet, mortal kiss.
Gather me to you, Love.
Let there be many evenings,
much softness, endless kisses.
- mce

The God Of War Never Sleeps

Nightmares of combat:

stunned and bleary,
coffee and nicotine
do not suffice
to clear my mind.

Dreams of war
disturb the soul,
damage the heart.

The terror of battle
leaps decades
and finds me
after thousands
of miles
and thousands
of days.

And nothing
has changed;
I am still afraid.

Depart my sleep,
Aries, I cringe
at your evil touch,
your wicked voice
sickens me.

Keep your red
running memories;
let me forget.

I paid your blood tax,
Lord of War;
I broke and bowed
to your power.

Wasn't that enough?

Now leave me in peace.
- mce

Walk With Me

Take my hand, Love.

The path narrows toward the end,
but still allows room for two.

Take my hand and walk with me.

The leaves of the trees
that arch above our heads
will sigh at our passing;
the birds that sing
among their branches
will serenade our progress.

We will make a way together.

Creation will celebrate
that we are one.

And so shall we, Love,
if only you will
take the chance
to take my hand
and walk with me.
- mce

Surrender

Broken and lost,
three years I wandered
my lonely desert
seeking the way out.

At last, I came to know
that desert was my heart.

I wept for the desolation
that I had become.

My tears fell upon
that parched waste
within me.

Like spring rain,
they dropped
upon that wasteland
in my heart.

Letting go my pride,
I was kissed by grace.

Flowers blossomed
where sand and thorns
had ruled.

The fertile magic
of surrender.

To find
the way out,
you must discover
the way in.

Life.
New life.
A life.
- mce

When I Remember You, I will Smile

A difficult task
demanding years
of work:

to gently kiss
your beloved,
but painful,
past goodbye
with honest love
and compassion;

to let go
those loved
and lost
with a smile
and a wave.

But the morning
shines brightly,
the day beckons,
tomorrow whispers,
come to me,
in your ear.

A difficult task,
but necessary:

not to forget,
but to continue,
glad for what was
living in what is.
- mce

Invitation

Love, the mist
chills this morning.

The season turns;
the cold returns.

How I miss the warmth
of your nearness.

Come to me.

Spark a fire in my arms.

We will burn together,
slowly melting
one into the other.

Consume me until,
reduced to embers
and ashes,
our flesh becomes
one mingled jumble
of spent desire.

Then, love,
we will rest
and glow,
snug against
this raw morning,
together.

Two bodies;
two hearts;
one being.
- mce

Today's Economic Outlook

Broke,
busted,
tapped out,
destitute.

Once again
I have
no money.

Once more,
I don't care.

Too bad
my stomach
and creditors
do.

Oh well,
let them wait.

Money,
like women
or luck,
shows up
in its own
good time.

Patience,
my thin
little wallet.

You will
be fed again
directly.

Meantime,
chew on
a bit of faith.
- mce

On Waking Again Alone

Love, the day dawns bleak
and still you are not come.
My wars have ended
and I have time and heart
to offer your living presence.
Peace brings no respite
without the mammal warmth
of your human flesh,
the soothing caress
of your singular spirit.
Love, do not dawdle.
The morning has broken
and my arms are empty.
Arrive. Fill them. Fill me.
- mce

Bless You, Wolfy

Funny that a
somewhat creepy
fat little Austrian,
218 years dead,
remains the only voice
in the world
that can always
restore my spirit
when the joy
has seeped out
of my life.

Somehow, he caught
the sounds
of God laughing
and weeping,
and transcribed them
into human music
that I might obtain
the vibrations
of divinity,
the melodies
of holiness,
the intensity
of nexus
centuries later,
even in this silent
Tennessee cabin
on a dismal
gray morning.

The women
who said no,
the debts,
disappointments
and dashed dreams
mean nothing now.

Your suffering
transcended it all.

One clear stream
of universal beauty
flowing down the years,
allaying doubt,
renewing hope,
caressing mortal ears.
- mce

Other Voices

Sometimes the silence
in my life
whispers, you're lucky.
Sometimes the silence
in my life
whimpers, you're lonely.
From moment to moment
I never know
which voice it will be.
- mce

"God is alive; Magic is afoot" - Leonard Cohen

Prelude

Lift your sweet eyes, Love.

I want to enjoy
the beauty of your heart
dancing within them.

Such wondrously
graceful steps
your heart takes.

If only I might dance
that dance forever.

Lift your sweet eyes, Love.

Let the dance begin.
- mce

Joy

Coffee and Mozart,
sunshine and birdsong;
grace abounds,
a new day beckons.

So many proofs
that God smiles
lie close at hand.

Delicious creation,
uncertain life:
gifts to unwrap,
blessings to enjoy.
- mce

A Personal Note

This is my little son, Richard. Not so little anymore, tomorrow he leaves for Marquette University and a very, very bright future. Although he hasn't spoken to me in three years, I love him dearly and my heart goes with him.

Go get it, Bear! Study hard, play hard, enjoy life. Even at its worst, it is a gift. I know you will knock them dead.

Love you forever, Dad.

Our Private Mystery Cult

Love, you make
me tremble.

There is marvel
in that movement.

I do not ever wish
to be merely still
in the presence
of your body, your spirit.

Stir me and wake me;
raise me to a new state
of feeling and knowing,
both scary and lovely.

Allow me the pleasure
of our souls touching,
quivering, merging,
one from two,
two in one.

When I am near you,
I want to become
a holy, knight-errant
slaying impossible dragons
only because you are
in the world
for me to please,
only because
you make me tremble.
- mce

Blueberry Autumn

The blueberry patch,
subtly altered now,
exhibits gentle variations
in hue and tone,
its character maturing.

The plants, once
sharp summer green
are softened;
the swaying tufts
hint at gold
whispering softly
of fall and beyond.

Change, irresistible
and splendid,
infuses creation and life
with new meanings
and possibilities,
rendering days to come
numinous with delights
as yet unknown.

The path leads
always onward,
but it never remains
the same path.

Love the world
in front of you.

Take joy
in your passage.

Keep moving.
- mce

The Buddha

"Work out your own salvation with diligence."

On Rough Patches - for JLB

"The only questions that really matter
are the ones you ask yourself."
- Ursula K. Le Guin

For some of us
God provides
a long list
of questions
and a short list
of answers.

Our work,
the real work,
the only work
that matters,
is filling
in those blanks.

A hard blessing,
but a blessing,
still.
- mce

Let My Eyes Discover The Beauty Of Your Heart

Tennessee Prayer

Lord:

Let me be
where I am.

Make me
like the soil
of this obscure
Tennessee valley,
known to few,
but verdant, fertile
and alive.

Let my life grow up,
like these local,
yearning plants,
into the embrace
of your patient glory.

Let me live
in the greenness
of your creation
as a simple man,
free, but found.

Let me finally be
where I finally am.
- mce

Insomniac Celebration

It is 2 AM.
I am still breathing.
Admittedly,
that's not much;
but sometimes,
it's enough.
- mce

Don't Wipe Off That Lipstick...

Flowers
are God's kisses
made visible
on the face
of creation.
- mce

An Imaginary Toad Considers A Real Garden

I do not create poems
from fancy or for fun,
but to engender reality.

Stories I tell
about stories
I have been told,
or told myself.

All the more real
for being imaginary.
- mce

Another Odd Prayer

It's Sunday morning, God.

Why don't you show
a little initiative
and put in an appearance.

There is coffee
and the deck awaits.

I can't do this
all alone, you know.
- mce

A Necklace Of Tears

Love, my loneliness
is a necklace of diamonds
wrought from the crystal
of my soul's tears.
Take it, wear it, transform it.
I long to admire
the work of my pain
remade into beauty
sparkling at your neck.
Not much of a gift,
but all I have to offer.
- mce

Day Late; Dollar Short

My extravagant heart
has pulled me
to the threshold
of heaven.
On that mountain
I stand and peer
into the green
and water
of the promised land.
But mortal body
cannot serve;
I remain, always,
one step short;
only in death
to cross over.
- mce

Febrility

Waking at 6 am
from troubled dreams
with a light fever
and odd chills.

Rarely ill,
this catches me
off guard.

Coffee doesn't help
and soon I lie
on the porno couch
caught and drifting
in a disturbed trance.

Vanished children
missed chances,
lost loves,
current fears
dancing in my
febrile brain
like hungry ghosts
distorted as in
a fun house mirror.

Where has the strength
of my youth gone?

What is this aging body
trying to tell me?

Reality, hard enough;
I have no wish
to see beyond it.

Keep your visions, God,
I don't want to know.

Just make me well;
restore me to the day.

Let me see clearly
and move on.

All I can take,
anymore.
- mce

Why Not Me?

I used to dream of true love
forever and ever.
Now I dream of one true heart
to share mine
for what time remains.
Forever and ever
reside only in this moment.
True love is just a name,
at best a portal,
the opening of a door.
Two hearts that touch and blend:
love true enough, and more.
- mce

Love The Ones You're With

Forgiving strangers
who have hurt strangers
is a cheap luxury.
Forgiving those close
who have hurt us,
an expensive necessity.
The truth reveals itself
clearest in suffering.
The hard path,
often the best path.
But oh how difficult
to take those first steps.
- mce

The Remains Of A Life

I walk in the world
with empty hands,
a man stripped bare
by madness and rage.
All that I am,
and all I can be,
is this human man,
what is left of me.
- mce

Worth The Risk...

To reject compassion,
a path of great danger:
hard hearts, in the end,
are prone to break.
- mce

Considering Another Job Interview

Job: work done for money,
to pay the mortgage,
to keep the wife and kids happy.

Vocation: what sustains you,
done for the love of it,
the pure craft of the doing.

Job: external, coercive,
necessary only for lucre,
status, accumulation, dross.

Vocation: internal, freely chosen,
necessary for your heart,
creative, affirming, alive.

The singer who sings
freely and from the soul
creates beauty
and informs the world;
the drudge who labors
for sustenance and stuff
murders time
and deadens reality.

What we do
paints the portrait
of who we are.

Real work brightens being;
useless work darkens the heart.

Choose carefully.
- mce

There Must Be Somekind Of Way Out Of Here...

Hurt is human.
Anger is human.
Hatred is human.
But, to be hurt,
to be angry,
and to hate
forever
is inhuman.
Worse, it is cowardly.
It allows you to avoid
the source of suffering.
It denies compassion
by forever removing
its possible object.
It puts you in a prison
where you become
your own jailer.
Face your fear,
return to your pain,
and be set free.
The way is never to,
it is always through.
- mce

Spring Creek Morning

Hope is the glue
that holds life together.
Everything broken
can be repaired
for a little while yet.
So wake up, get up,
paste the loose parts
back together,
and continue on.
- mce

Tennessee Via Hell

The end
of a journey:
not as important
as the journey
to that end.
- mce

Surprise!

I hated the woman
I spent my life with
so much and so long
that my anger
consumed itself
and gave birth
to compassion.
This came to me
as a great surprise.
- mce

Not That I don't Love You...

If I knew who
my readers are,
I would buy
them all a beer,
but I don't,
so I won't.
- mce

But Look Closely...

The rain falls,
the air sweetens,
the earth lies
wet and lovely.
Every humble
happening
contains a beauty
it longs to reveal.
- mce

Casual Sex

Nothing
wrong with it.

Everybody
wants it.

The young
deserve it.

Only, after a point,
you realize that
you don't need it
and that taking
what you don't need,
can interfere
with getting what
you do need.

And that, as the
old, but true
cliche points out,
makes for
a whole new
ball game.
- mce

An Odd Sort Of Prayer

So tell me God,
isn't divinity
ever boring?
Don't you tire
of being distant,
unapproachable,
and worshipped?
Isn't it lonely?
Don't you ever wish
you could have
a burger,
sip a beer,
just hang out
and bullshit?
If you ever
get the notion,
let me know.
I'd be happy
for the company.
- mce

Nothing is Free

If you could,
honestly and clearly,
see those
who have hurt you,
those you hate,
can you be certain
that your hatred
would still apply?

Or would you face
wholly new individuals,
unrecognizable,
deserving from you
another reckoning,
a second chance
at your heart's opinion?

If that be true,
what stops you
from offering them
that second chance
now?

Pride? Fear?
Uncertainty?

Clarity comes
at the price
of compassion.

Pay it now
or pay it later,
but pay it you will.
- mce

A Good Old Fashioned Country Ass-Whupping

Thinking myself invincible,
I tried to break the world.

Instead, the world broke me.

Surprise!

Sometimes, to learn humility
requires taking a beating.

The pain doesn't matter;
what you learn through it does:

be wary of pride;

you are not as strong
as you imagine;

no one is immune
to reality.

Getting my ass kicked,
the only way for me
to know these things:

the price I always pay
for being a slow learner.
- mce

A Matter of Perspective

Every step taken
contains the possibility
of an adventure,
when seen with
the heart and eyes
of an explorer.
- mce

Grace Abounds

"To be alive is to be broken;
to be broken is to stand in need of grace."
- Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel

Grace often arrives
in disguise:
work, friends,
a shared meal
or quiet drink
on a deck at dusk.

Pay attention.

Listen with your heart.

Live to learn.

Accept the gifts given
even when they hurt.

Grace abounds.

God's voice never falters,
only we do.
- mce