I feel that I know you, have we met before?

You seem so familiar, I must know for sure

if in a past lifetime we knew the other

as sister or brother, parent or lover.

We cordially meet, keep properly distant,

Yet, once in a while I sense, for an instant

our souls pulse in union, in singular time;

so I search for an answer and hope for a sign.

How could I speak clearly?

My words would evade the frustration I feel from fantasies

(played out long ago in a vague situation)

that can never know their full restoration.

But the warmth of you face, that eternal smile

can calm me and make me content for a while.

Because if you’ve come back to me, though only as friend,

then surely we share in a love without end.

 

Reincarnation? Infatuation? Dejavu?

Child of violence

Woman of love

Soul in torment

Beauty and pain

Searching for peace

A place to belong

Acceptance, respect,

Just one moment of pleasure

Both feet set firmly

Weak and frail

Grasping for someone

Shy to the touch

Eyes full of questions

Hold back the tears

Eternal youth

Hours filled with years

Endlessly hoping

Lacking the faith

Unconquerable victim

Few understand

 

When the layers of the onion are peeled

away, sometimes a tear comes to the eye.

I bring you a stone

in the palm of my hand.

I bring you the water

that flows from my soul.

I bring you the breath of life

that surrounds you.

I bring you the fire

that burns within my mind.

I bring you God

Who is there within you.

 

The result of Taoist thought, combined with occult elemental concepts.

 

For You, Too

I travel around, from town to town

With just the clothes upon my back;

A pair of old shoes, a walking stick,

And my world stuffed inside my pack.

My world consists of various things

Most people would consider junk.

But deep within is a treasure store

That could not be contained in a trunk.

It appears to be no more than this:

A flute of tarnished silver.

Yet when it’s played, whatever your need

The flute will surely deliver.

What would you have it give unto you?

Prestige or riches or pleasure?

Or a song to tell your deepest thoughts

And your soul’s true weight and measure?

"Just that," you say, "a song about me,"

"Tell me of secrets I’ve buried,"

"Of hopes and desires, fears and pain,"

"Play now, I beg you, don’t tarry!"

So I bring the flute up to my lips

And I breathe in with just a whisper.

But try as I might to bring forth sound;

No song for my anxious listener.

I search for the words that will explain

Why my magic powers have failed me:

"Nothing could define one such as you,"

"You must remain my mystery".

 

The sequel to For You with images

borrowed from Jethro Tull.

I once met a man who lived by the square;

How long he had lodged there, naught did I care,

But as he passed by, he hailed me by name.

Then he mentioned my brothers;

To their legacy laid claim.

He swore he was truly an adopted son

That my poor widowed mother had

Once acknowledged as her own.

Surely adopted; for anyone could see

By his features and manner

He was nothing like me.

Yet he gripped my right hand,

Put his arm to my back

And whispered in low breath

No love did he lack.

And if only I’d welcome him into my hall

He would assemble a multitude of princes

To join in the labor begun in the Fall.

The Winter had come with a bitter west wind

That threatened to weaken the strongest of men.

With the aid of these princes

And our combined resources

We might build a great city

That could resist the forces

Seeking to divide all who would join

With our father

(though we share not one mother,

through him are we brothers)

To be raised as one family

That the whole world encompasses.

 

A message to my Masonic brothers, prior

their reconciliation with our Prince Hall

brethren. May 20,1983

Praise God, from whom

All fleshlings blow.

 

Who knows where these things come from?

Maybe divine inspiration.

 

. . . . . . .

It has been said that God

Does not play dice with the universe.

That is because God plays dice

With dice.

 

Move over Isaiah!

I neither Love, nor do I Hate . . .

Yet, to all things do I surely relate.

 

You too, Plato.

. . . . . . .

The breath and depth of the mind

Is so vast,

The potential combinations of relationships between its parts

Are so complex,

The experiences and influences it is subject to

Are so unlimited,

How could understanding in the empirical sense

Ever be realized?

 

I Kant get enough of this stuff.

Riding home from work in early autumn

on a City Transit bus sitting in the window

seat. This was what had me mesmerized all the way home.

Autumn’s air is alive with an energy

That fills the world with electricity.

The flaming colors ‘neath turquoise skies

Strike me with wonder as they flash in my eyes.

Is there a special kind of magic

That generates at summer’s end

That causes the crackling leaves under my feet

To recharge my soul again?

 

A week or so later, while raking leaves in

the front yard. October, 1983

We were talking

About the pain

So common to us all;

The insignificant events

That never seem to come

To their conclusions.

We spoke of childhood,

So beautiful,

So frightening,

So unfinished.

The subject turned

To those years

Of becoming aware:

Of ourselves,

Of the future,

Of the truth and

Of the lies.

We shared experiences

(compared notes)

Of first loves,

First heartbreak,

First time.

Then, my thoughts turned to you

And I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

(to say that i love you

would say nothing at all.

the term has little meaning any more.

it seems to me to be a scheming way

to confuse or impress you.

but to say i’m your friend

seems so shallow, so small.

i need to express how

i feel for you now

and clear up what is false

from what is true

i would reach out to touch you

but i fear it’s too much

to expect you to know how i mean it.

and the reason is, you see,

it’s unclear to me

why i want to be close to you

or why you stay on my mind.)

When love is no longer infatuation and has

ceased to be a process. What is to follow

may be a greater, unexpected condition or

it may be complete disintegration. And

there are no guarantees regardless of what

had preceded.