catch a spate of flying dreams,   hold them for a feathered rest, tell the moon to send its beams,   call the sunbirds to their nest, give no thought to fears arising, nor to conscience terrorizing,             just stay             a day and dream … Continue reading "dream-catching"

Marketplace (II)

Whatever else may swell the human race, A marketplace remains a marketplace, As one who needs or wants finds one who’ll send, And all of it’s just tradeoffs in The end

beauty is its own excuse

in jeweled patterns, colors all, a stopping place for druther — for beauty is its own excuse, it really needs no other

The Bargain Pile

The unread books In the bargain pile,   People passing by, Their eyes ahead, Onto other things   Bound to satisfy. The unread tales Of the bargain pile,   Stacked and priced to go: The life of waiting Just for a glance,   That is one   I know

Dill Weed

What should we use for License and permission? The capital’s now shut to Our ambition — The powder reeks Of avarice and spice; An aftershock Of smoothly-covered vice — A smothering of Cabinets and lust, A bit of happiness Ground into dust, A spatter and a slather And a skein Of words of populism Turned … Continue reading "Dill Weed"

hanging lamp

memoriesare made of lampsthat once hung in the living rooma little lightand shadows castin ways to break and ease the glooma shopping tripa purchase madea choice decor that's bought and staysa memoryan aging lampa thing we love but seldomthink to praise


In songs of spice and hue In markets fair to view In camera and shield In stall, and bush, and field Where magic traces shine Where eyes can drink and dine Where majesty makes haste In color Spice And taste

Empty, Full, and In-Between

The marketplace Is waiting for its Lover; The crowd It welcomes into its Embrace — The emptiness, The fullness, and The in-between: The cycles of our hearts, Our stores, Our race   (… as in “human race”… – Owen)