may we all be heard
words are bells
let them ring!


Thom World Poet Austin, Texas, USA
Global Radical networker and activist for promoting the live Creative Arts,
at every possible opportunity, especially in his home-city, Austin, Texas, USA


Monday, December 13, 2010

SEASONAL GIFTS

another calendar day
advancing eternities

this work is joy
paid in continuance

the gift of your presence
makes gold look cheap

grew up with slow tea
now black as coffee

these stars guided ships
long before they fell

extending life
via living fully

skeleton umbrella
windtorn  ,restless

i was thinking of you
(rather,feeling...

furniture has auras
and ghosts

drinking memories
thirsty for more

even the thought of water
makes crops rise

trees before-afterward-
ghost trees

your listening ear
hears between lines

i am not waiting for...
this is enough.

bus full of strangers
this earth

my cat strays
not far from her food bowl

used to work ships
both of us landlocked

why do we pose for cameras?
they do not care.

this wind will take some spirits away
bringing new ones in today

Christmas shopping-
Malled by bright lights

she cannot chew meat
(my godmothers false teeth)

massaging knots of fear
into harmonies of healing

strangers in a coffee shop
loving remote laptops

cigarette smokers-pariahs
of New Puritanism

censoring our past
limits our futures

humming democratic tunes
forgotten the words?

ant lines towards sweetness
micro-us

something moves us/despite us
and is thereby moved again

Fall in to Winter
can we change seasons?

by shadows ,we know
the flickering of futures

photography does not capture-
it releases!

in the naming of worlds and planets
we forget our selves

comparing what happened before
with what will not happen next

library to GOOGLE
who Illuminates these Manuscripts?

my cat  rubs up against my leg
to reassure both of us

tea leaf fortune
displaced by tea bags

orange as a traffic cone
standing to attention

barnacled boats cling to beaches
in memories of tides

antique shop price tags
no longer historic

coins in your pocket
ask for more change

in the second hand book-
inscriptions to unknown lovers

now the day /mails away
more goodwill stacked in lines

ends are beginnings
of gifts at your eyes door

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