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

Wednesday, August 31, 2011


For years artists in metal used lead
they made pewter goblets and tin plates
over time,the casual ingestion of heavy metals
produced"lead poisoning"-industrialization compounded
the introduction of chemicals and toxic fluids and vapors
into our bodies that adapt until a threshold is reached
and our remains are placed in lead lined coffins
We live in toxic times-inhaling fumes@gas pumps
wondering why immune deficiencies provide opportunistic infections
Houston's chemical soup skies and refinery waters
define a city built upon a swamp,sending muck into the very air we breathe
Ozone alert days warn us.Mexican bushfires a symbol
There are no borders in air ,and water ends up inside us.
The challenge for our times is detoxification
Same as decommissioning nuclear weapons
and making sure radioactive materials are stored away from all water sources
I will not mention plastics and derivatives therefrom-
they are our modern pewter dilemma-whereby artifacts of domestic use pollute
us to the point of toxicity.We are only human-way past our USE BY date
The threshold has been passed in Fukoshima and Chenobyl
What will we do with this radiation-store it in eternal plastics?


"I am mad as hell and i am just not going to take it any more!"
so bubbled the fountain darter and the San Marcos gambusia
the Texas blind salamander and the Comal Springs riffle beetle
YES! chorused the Comal Springs dryopid beetle,the Peck's cave amphipod
along with every grain of Texas wild rice.It was not water but its lack they protested
one by one like waterholes drying up as heat took oxygen away from water
Even fat catfish bloated on the surface as funding cuts stressed teachers and librarians
All the invisible community volunteer bonds of goodwill strained by oceans of depletion/deprivation.
It was the smallest of us became most invisible-the obvious homeless lost habitat
were caged in research jails or simply gave up their lives in this interrogatory heat
Trees exhausted cried for water like prisoners.Gentle people robbed banks with written notes.
They could not afford a Tea Party ,nor a gun,nor threats -they cut their needs to the bone
yet even their bones needed to be parked somewhere.Governor Don't Care became God.
SECURITY reinforced insecurity.We are all threatened species.In the waters,we gather,muttering
One day the waters will rise up Tsunami Libya Syria Iran Palestine
Then we will see service over power,equality over cuts.
Goldfish bowl world.Who feeds you?Even the waters are crying...

Tuesday, August 30, 2011


Do you remember the Concert For Bangla Desh?
It was supposed to alleviate hunger and starvation
Even The Beatles could not stop financial corruption
Food aid to Sudan is stolen via military/children die
while Somalia is reduced to clan warfare
WE ARE THE WORLD might give Band-Aid PR
it did not get donations through to those desperately needing support
This is not to say foreign aid is a lost cause-
intervention in failed states when famine and drought combine
is as necessary as water ,irrigation and hygiene programs
The problem is military-those with guns take from those without
From Mexican cartels killing journalists to headless mariachis
how can civilians control mad military might?Even militias march to borders
in the absurd pretense of economic betterment
Bombs and guns cost billions and kill us-
fund songs and poems,art and dance and healing programs
By consent of those at risk,new Marshall Plans will thrive
Deficit economics and austerity frauds mean a few rich
and too many unemployed .Time to support peace,love and justice.
Shift military spending to necessary civilian infrastructures-
food inspectors,environmental protectors,tree planting.
Immaculate interventions require imaginative initiatives-
money is only one form of energy.Goodwill another.
Time to remember we are all in this world together.

COMING IN TO CORONA(out of the hideout!

Fridays 4-7pm 1215 Corona Drive off Cameron
Gordon The White Rapper extends his welcome
to a thin cafe where the hospitality is gypsy
(they have this family lived 4 years in an RV-
traveling this Seattle/Austin geography
There is a map on the wall showing adventures
They are all ethical individuals
This hidden gem has art on walls
all it needs is y'all-to see and hear and share your joy
with those whose spot is oasis in the barren North
no generic stripped Malls-just a thin cafe
where the coffee and company are cool and warm
the smiles real,and the desire to meet more gypsies
extends every Friday from 4 till 7pm
They promise if you come,they will extend till evening
Until Zen,Corona is an aura in your spectrum
of available measures of pleasure-Dew Drop Inn!
FRIDAYS 4-7pm Corona Cafe 1215 Corona Drive off Cameron

Monday, August 29, 2011

snow dreaming

it is not white-but it is silence
covering all .adding shapes and forms that lead to mimesis
snow people/snowballs..Stick limbs protruding/tilted hats/carrot nose
coal eyes.Slush while melting,mess and grey .Black ice dangers.
Skid through this.Stop when chains are insufficient
Like slaves,throw off restraints.Wildly mutiny!
Snow will not resist,just absorb.Soft mountains.Wait for water melt
Flow down guttering.Collapse roofs.Implacable weight.Snapped plumbing.
Mountains morph into emotional hills to reclusive blocked walks.Wait.
Time is water,running out.We become smaller under snowfall.
Winter is patience and endings.Lives of snowflakes,falling.
Merging in to one a lesson of snow.Non-negotiable instrument.
Mass over weight over time.Your life is snow.Fall...


Blonde and bright in black and white movies
Poet,journalist,actress-you joined The Group
Clifford Odets used your Hollywood cache
exploited you for support/you loved
but were not loved/and when the gloss wore off
You were incarcerated/imprisoned in asylum
largely because you were ferocious
and would not submit to THE SYSTEM
Your monies disappeared/your own mother waged war
upon your only sense of identity/your autobiography 
a journey to hells far worse than Hell.This human prison
you were celled within-all that has been 
did not stop you evolving-through alcohol and television
until you found acceptance within a family
and the god you rejected at 16
returned at 45 to calm your savage seas.
You lived so fully there was no room for others' dramas
The scripts you followed were written by others
When you finally found your own,it was alone
To be @peace,you had to leave all love
Burn anger to the bone,and find your only home
upon the stage.Rage could be channeled
All you wished was to be alone
but that was someone else's line
from another lifetime

Sunday, August 28, 2011


Growing abandoned by the railway tracks-as children they seemed huge
as we grew,they shrank.Now mere tiny outbursts of stubborn beauty insubordination
Red they were-positive as blood pain.We would be nicked and pricked
but still temptation reigned-to hold them was enough/to gather more in bundles
present them as fresh gifts as wilderness-little outlaws with their heads cut off.
Blood reminds me how reticent they were-they drew blobs when sweaty palms held too close
their green unbending resistances.No romance this-just stripped bunches of red desperadoes.
Do outlaws become roses when they sweat?Are gardens just cages for the wild?
Do birds know the difference between domestic and feral?Do children?
Somehow we recognized their rebellion as our own
In solidarity,we gifted authority figures with their ransom
We were more free via their beauty.We delivered them up to our gods.
They could then add sugar and stand them in tortured vases as signs
that the wild in us could be bunched and gathered and tamed and held
by the railway tracks we learned to be wild ourselves
It was the roses led the way!

"PERCEPTUAL GEOGRAPHY"(a la Michael Barnes)

i see 1969 on the streets of Austin-young retro warriors
with torn jeans and Asian fashions-looking like hitching hippies
yet with an innocence that belies their attitudes
1930s resurrect in homeless beggars camping in the green belt
petitioning like Buddha Kerouac /@every musical intersection.
Retro shops recycle 1950s skirts and suits
with Buddy Holly glasses and rockabilly music
90s nerds play PACMAN in foyers of arcades and Malls
while 80s Gordon Geckos still stalk Congress Avenue
Starbucks in their hands and no stars in their eyes
You can fall in to a time warp easily here-
believe the cliche"Music Capital of the World !"
or (if you wish)-DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS!
Both are true in certain quarters-as is black jazz Eastside
alongside new yuppie eateries with max cool stylings
Every stage of every age awaits-preppies,yuppies,hippies,punks-
all defined by musical venues attended via choice
with magazines(or zines)to affirm their chosen timewarp
It is 2011-110 degree heat  and endless drought
Women wear less and men care less.Homeless distressed
Yet still this spectrum of available fashion options-
all available within the perceptual geography -of Austin!


Now a hurricane has hit East Coast/we stock up
evacuate or remain in dangerous houses/knowing
these winds will blow on through
New Orleans a metaphor for community
Looting and shootings by police as true
as every cat and dog and horse rescue(and people,too!
who were welcomed in Austin and who felt part of community-but tell me
why does it take a calamity to precipitate community?
Whether these are Bibical times/End Times/The Last (Armageddon) Days
why are we so fascinated with destruction and devastation?
Why do we celebrate September 11 
and not November 11(Armistice Day-the end of wars..
There seems something perverse in worshiping dead gods-
Mars,Jove,Jupiter,Jesus,Buddha,Fat Elvis,John Lennon
Joe The Plumber should not run for Congress
Real communities exist beneath headlines and bylines and faux journalism
We are bound and freed by ,with and for each other-each to each
and we have nowhere else to go
so love ,strengthen,support and encourage each other

Saturday, August 27, 2011


i have removed all the punch lines so no one gets hurt
Comedy is a corporation,censored for mass audiences
"The truth?You CAN'T HANDLE the truth!"
so news is entertainment,celebrity sandwiches
made for fast food mass consumption
and the truly offensive jokes are privately shared-
grief,horror,pain,loss and death-these are fine wines
kept in dark cellars like crazy relatives
made to be shared only with consenting adults
The best of hiphop is humorous/satire relies upon shock
in the midst of the prosaic,death interrupts a holiday
(you are going to die.the end.)You stay to read the credits
"i would like to thank the Academy,my parents,my family...
Every little death is a rehearsed joke.Some fall flat.
The best are in bad taste-Russian jokes about Siberia
Jewish jokes about gas chambers.September 11 jokes
To deal with tragedy,we use comedy.It is not,nor ever was


when you are rationed,you apportion
each breath.One for yoga,another gym,a third Pilates
Fourth meditation(though it is said every breath is 
Fifth is listening/a service necessary ,rare
Sixth is walking-to keep your body here
Seventh is sharing-to see your mirroring
Eighth is singing /playing/laughing
Ninth is giving breaths away.This way they return
This is how we arrive @the tenth commandment-
to give is to live.Every breath is...

I saw 1967 on the streets -long hair,thin girlfriend
even when we advance,we still flashback


Ferocious on behalf of her children-adopted,birth,scrappy street vixens
even when they bite the hand that feeds them(she feeds them/again
Gathers them in circles near fire and keeps them warm
Something ancestral makes her defend these weak
even when they bark @her,chide her when she speaks
She mild as milk until someone threatens her young/broken ones
then flash of eye and hand and sword/martial arts in a Martial poem

long shots

odds are stacked against our survival
to be a poet in 2011 is to be an antiquarian
now there is an app that poeticises websites
in whatever metrical construction you may choose
i do not speak well with machines
much prefer the purvey of truly human beings
as long as we can gather against the heat
we will be cool enough to be jazz
an improvised melody that sings in community
whistling as we walk down September 11 streets

The terror of kindness

it is late in this heated season
yet tomatoes are still blooming
as gifts (golden apples of the sun

when driving,we always carry food and water
for overheated Buddhists,homeless in their flesh

excess shakes to those the superflux
we give to that part of us/needing us
to rise above the terror of kindness

THE STATE OF TEXAS (Aristophanes)

Willy was a Houston musician-
cars,guitars,women and drugs
Fast life with faster folk
until middle age found him homeless
under a bridge with diabetes

When frogs disappeared,i blamed the drought
(69 days @106 degrees-world dried up
Teachers stressed/people in ill health
Perry living off public taxes
while demanding there be none!

Waterholes dry up/folk get burned
Even the homeless cannot bear the heat 
when applied by the overpaid APD
When the streets are bare/no frogs there
We weep for the loss of trees

We are aging,too,and each death a notch
that chops another forest for more homes
They all rush to Austin for some fun
Like Dick Whittington,they think the party's ON!
The party has long long gone

Now they remake SLACKER origins
The CHRONICLE will not print poetry listings
What can the frogs do with no waterholes?
They will go where the Rainbow Serpent glows
Back in to the rainbow.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

this has all happened before

in fact,ruta maya open poetry mike opened
because SOMA(the upscale restaurant next door
had precipitately (without warning)closed their doors
(where one closes,another opens..
For years,RM@4th/Lavaca became the new Chicago House
until high rents forced a sale and move to 3601 south congress
which @that time was woods and bottle shops
Now,they are faced with financial exigencies
and must make monies to stay in that spot
so poetry is vulnerable(at all times)to dispossession
and the jury of our poetic peers is OUT

Come to the door of South Austin Bar and Grill(formerly VINNYS
Closed.Shut.No answer from phone or email
Our Wednesday night poetry venue for half a decade
I salvaged a chair from their trash /it stands in our front yard.Nothing else remains

LITERA in Austin Chronicle no longer lists open mikes in print
(for this,you must go to their website)-but who knows this?
HIDEOUT theater hired by improvisors-who need quiet 
Poetry is seen as noise.We are OUT.
Hot Mamas Sundays change from 5-8pm to 3-6pm 
Summer hours mean after Hoop Church no one turns up.(I do)
Kick Butt leaves notes on tables-TO SAVE SUNDAY NIGHT POETRY,COME HUNGRY
Subtlety and poetry rarely eat together

Venues close .New ones open.CORONA CAFE Fridays 4-7pm
ENGLISH TEA ROOMS Saturdays 6-9pm
All depends upon...

Wednesday, August 24, 2011


One would think in this gold rush,she would be old as gold
Her husband ill,she works for him/alone in shop
threading that which breaks/ back in to circulation
She holds the threads of so many who rely upon her
Ariadne of the fates/relates to each as healing/ when the world
is careless as flung silver.She creates in jewellery
She creates in people


i have always been a pectin addict/strawberry is my fave flav
both home grown and organic/coming out of septic
sweet tang to the taste buds/slice more on ice cream
and sugar for this diabetic/rush 
me to the nearest fruit vendor/more ,please!
There are those whose taste is chocolate
i do not mind/in fact,chocolate coated strawberries are a double delight
but just the other day,you saw my face blush
small hairs protruded-o my god!(you said)
you have become what you eat!Yes,ma'am-i am
a strawberry man!

invocation to beauty

Fill every moment of our lives so we may align
with highest harmonies of happiness/and see
visions of what is and what might be/together entwined
like twin snakes of DNA/say truth and watch as worlds change
Set bison free,and wild wolf roam.Let bear reclaim ancestral home
May birds fly free sans hunting seasons,bees no longer herbicide poisoned
May we be worthy of our borrowed visions/to spellcast living secular heavens
May spiral resurrect,and circles protect us.May square and rectangle cage disappear
May all straight lines soften in to rivers,flow round bends and corners
into depths that welcome their liquidities.May the invocation of true beauty
be as natural as our lives,in time defined by all we love,respect,admire.
May our peers affirm their inner light ,and add it to all that glows with goodness
May every dream come true,and beauty stay with you/remain in truth
and sing the new in to existence

BEAUTY BEFORE(and afterward
Pyramids -you pilgrimage to .Stone of Stonehenge
Sculptures in Museums.David.Venus De Milo.Portraits 
in oils daubed you adore,framed by security guards(valuable/unique)
I stare rather at those staring at Damien Hirst,whose diamonds and crystal skulls extort.
I stare at all the digital camera eyes,hungry for visions and wisdom
I watch those who are the hunters of Art/whose spark is collecting rather than loving
Whether temporary as teardrops or permanent as snowstorms,beauty is a gift in time
Our time is short.We can not be bought.

(for "ON BEAUTY"Tuesday 13 September 6.30@14 Tunsgate Guildford,Surrey)

"beauty is as beauty does"

the industry of human happiness selects candidates to model "beauty"
Few look like us-awkward,ungainly,overweight
We waddle on a catwalk,not slim thin knife edge anorexics
with figures reminescent of young Pan boys
They represent another alien species-
those who believe "the hat makes the man"
"you are what you wear""suit makes sweet"
Every cliche has a price.Self-scarrers ,bulimics with body issues
Suicides insecure in their body armor.Those who are made to feel less
because they are more.How many silent in the face of fashion?
Who speaks to those designers creations?Is it not your actions
will redeem you?/not the clothes you wear/nor your hair style...
Do not confuse container with contents.Core beauty this-
who we are in response to others.By ourselves,we are enough.
We are more with those who laugh at the fraud of fashion.
You do not need to buy Botox poison.You are beauty.It is within.

(for "ON BEAUTY Tuesday 13 September 6.30pm@14 Tunsgate Guildford Surrey)


i KNOW that boy is up to NO good
he ain't bin right ever since he been born
and she ain't no better
why the two of them
had better get the hell out of eden
ever since that incident
with the snake
and that apple

"nothing is as beautiful"

Nothingness has beauty,too.The lack of specific detail
destroys all fashion industries,all piled mountain disposables,
all trinket glitter and sparkle empty mirrors.Think on this-
all image will be forgotten.That face you paint is transient.
Nothingness lasts.Permanent as death.This little life barks on a lonely moon.
All the audiences with inventories of tickets cannot move
They must sit in rows in boxes in homes and houses
away from hills and mountains and their own solitary truth.
Nothing is true.It is your perfect love!Adores nothing,believes nothing-
is nothing to worry about.Spaces between us more than all your atoms.
Materialism fails to impress.Art in Egyptian Pyramids.
Gold masks on shrunken heads.The price of gold is nothing
against time.You cannot buy more.Nothing can store it.
All your clocks and watches and digital precision 
will not stop nothingness intruding in to this very last line.
Stuff and nonsense?No! -just nothingness.."nothing shall come of nothing"
"Speak again!"

(for "ON BEAUTY" September13 Guildford)

"shall i compare thee?"

Comparisons odious-yet two eyes focus
upon the similarities and differences between 
that which is love and those who are beloved
If we loved trees as much as people,
forests would bloom instead of highrise skylines
If we loved water more-free flowing rivers
If we loved earth,would we chemically fertilize/poison?
If we loved air,would we carbon footprint skies?
Our love is fickle and familiar.We eat,move on.Fast food.Indigestion.
This is a slow dance of glaciers.You want instant melt.
These elders stood through storms for centuries
You want homes and fences to keep love out
You chop and criticize any love color size weight
that is not your mirror need.You feed on love,forget
it must be seeded ,fed,sheltered,nurtured,respected 
Do you love your inner child?If so,why this ?
Comparisons reflect us.

(for "ON BEAUTY" Tuesday 13 September.Guildford)

soft words

sleep ,siesta ,sweetness-
sibilance sings songlines
like lullabyes for sleepy children
we know rock world,scissor hands
but we are paper people
get wet and wonder why this falling apart?
Gentle as seduction
to wish to believe that all will be well
Bells toll the passing of cattle
Villages on Sundays/we wish to wander
wherever our feet may lead.Here is a road-
Thin streets to broad boulevards.All have signs-
At midnight,it matters little who you meet
Crossroads are for choices made and unmade
The journey is a destination
All naming is temporary /transitory
like hiding street signs when the Nazis were invading
We can obscure with projected goodwill
the domestic tragedies that would leave us
crying still

"a thing of beauty..."

i used to collect things-78rpm records,LPs,singles,comics,books..
Whole libraries i had to give away when the available weight 
became larger than the available space.Formats change,addictions remain.
I became addicted to cola and chocolate.On my wall-chocolate wrappers-
"GREAT CHOCOLATES I HAVE EATEN"(as if hunting trophies)
In my den,seven piled televisions(all on different channels(sound OFF
It was less the object than the remembrance of beauty
Crunch of caramel,splash of color television-each art in their way
Time piles art by roadways-evictions,moving sales,giveaways..
i cannot even remember the names of all my loves
Some other hands hold them each night,whispering eternities
i am now addicted to poetry,and its paper chase fills 45 boxes
unread,undigested(you will never see her faces-she hides from me
Only comes out when moon and stars are silently singing
i hear her best when silence sits,and waits for time to change
Forever is too long.We are time lapsed cameras.This is a song.

(for "ON BEAUTY"6.30 pm@14 Tunsgate Guildford Surrey Tuesday 13 September)

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

there is no cause

but life itself/the greatest and the least 
share this-breath!The rest as extra as peace
a home,security,freedom-all these
as random as a free fire zone.We are civilians
Our only enemy is a military culture
When they turn guns in to butter
weapons into food,then we will all eat
The budget for weapons can feed millions
The money for bombs can save lives
Simple as this-we turn a fist to a kiss
embrace life,and add our energies 
to the survival of our species!


Black budgets (our taxes)steal our emails 
Raid American shops allegedly selling guns to gangs
Posse Comitatus did not stop Bradley tanks @Waco
Branch Davidians died when Army killed civilians
(like National Guard @Kent State University)
Ruby Ridge.Remember please-democracy
means rights.Human rights.Not to be abused by bureaucracies
tapping telephones.They are the wolves among our sheep
Remember Bill of Rights?It is due!Pay up,please!

change 911 to 999

this mourning calendar steals our time
remember armistice day from world war one?
11.11.11-has significance-an end of wars
even when new ones begin/begun by some
who see no end to terror,nor terrorism
who are we fighting?why are we losing and withdrawing?
those Taliban we armed against occupying invading Russians?
or ghosts of blown away Bin Laden?.Trillions later/blood and treasure lost
no answer to these questions-why celebrate September 11?
Questions as to Building Seven(was that a demolition/inside job?remain
Returning soldiers share their damage and their pain
and we have neither victory nor gain
just profiteering Halliburton/broken veterans
and questions about how and who and why
are we still killing civilians/when they were the ones who died?

eye of the beholder

my 1991 frog green Suburu coughs and farts
a little messy in all aspects
survives via infusions of power
steering fluid/yet gets me to where
i am going to.I want no more !
Utility is beauty /enough for me
To meet the perceived need 
is all i ask .Excess is extra/and we
have only time to love and to release
We cannot take our Suburu to heaven when we go
so let it last our lifetime so we know
what is green may not be gold.

To see a Houston toad hop slowly away
when morning finds me handwatering weeds
a sign that all is well in Heaven(Frog Heaven -and we
are allowed to live with them/enough
to last this desert drought -and laugh

Frogs and snakes love watering holes
This is where the Rainbow Serpent goes
When water goes,frogs disappear
becoming haiku ghost frogs 
who live within

"if it does not have music

it is not poetry"said olde EZRA POUND.So singer-songwriters lyrics save us/time and again
Woman with a guitar opening venues.Her Singing calms and reassures all tigers
Striped sounds of weeping and gnashing of sharp teeth
become digestives assimilated (easier to listen and release
Gather ye rosebuds where ye can!-this world of roses has sharp thorns
Cut to the quick while sliced by sounds.She sings -a new room is found
File in one by one ,to be allowed release/healing in harmonies...
Each to each sings their world attuned to need
To give the artform that singspeaks
Poets stand in lines with page in hand
Singers know their chance to share again depends
upon repetition and release/each chorus reassures
peace means more than a cessation of endless prosaic wars

this is where we start

silence.heartbeat.rhythm.pulse.(we are not alone
(we are never alone/Next-reach out to another/brother/mother/sister/other
to affirm that we are not alone/never alone.Silence is not enough
If we would be so silent,who would sing our dreams?
Each has a bucket of tears .They spill(accidentally.We get wet/washed 
awaken to a fresh imbibe
This radio world has many channels.This multiplex vision academy
We begin before we begin.Continue habits /forming associations.
Forward and back we rock like the sea/like a story cradling chants
We sing to ourselves when no one is listening
Sing to the world when a tree grows children
You see?We have begun again..When we end,there will be silence
Then new songs will move in-the song of absence and regret
Lines of teardrops,waiting to express

Monday, August 22, 2011

hidden harbingers of harmonies

beneath deserts-oases.Dig deeper-beneath headlines-we live
whether re-or depression/freedom of expression!See!
Native American medicine flute/poems of truth
this carpet is threaded with you and we
who gather do so as speech is social
more than virtual-actual voice to real ears and eyes and heart and mind
There are hidden harbingers of harmonies who find
doors opening as options close/they know but do not know
You find them when you align /with solutions/time
stops for us to catch up.Formats advance but we remain,human as hope
and trust we have both point and purpose 
This time is dedicated to the heat/this to cool thoughts
next is rain and change and all that moistens
Soil and lips parched ask only to be replenished
We who live in deserts park in cities/ask the heat
to release us ,so we may,like gardens,grow again...

Two poems on transience

my cat may not be reassured that she is loved

enough to eschew her feral scratching habits
the same as we may not be timely enough
to reverse our occupational toxicities..
are we all programmed?is our universe also?
to be hitched to orbits like stars and planets?
to follow footsteps dictated by fate and destiny?
or is free will a cat with nine lives/who can soften
like our first cat,be reconciled to love
and settle down ,assured that relationships
enable all of us to live through fire.

our time

his answer is to hand it all to Great Spirit/Gaia
this one unique planet that we live upon/in trust that she
might assuage our wanton ways/and heal in time
Truth is,it may be mountain time-a million years of glaciers
melted in a moment.or desert time-Sahara once a rainforest
or river time in a world of dams.or tree time,when elders crack and fall
it may not be our four score years and ten.our time is gone.

Friday, August 19, 2011

a tree story

we have lived in our home a decade and a half
once,there was a giant tree shading the front of our house
it got old,and tired,fell over and split
it did not damage anyone or anything 
it took three days to chainsaw pieces to be used as firewood
i remember a trash truck helping us pull out the trunk
afterwards,a huge hole where our tree once stood
we tried to fill it in,but our ghost tree remained
we could see and remember her -windsinging birdsongs
we lost more than shade and beauty when she left
Now we replant as often as possible
(our tree canopy is aging in Austin)
and a slim thin green sprig arises in her spot
she will never be as majestic as our elder was
we count ourselves lucky to have been with her
youth can never carry the load of  older gravity
our thin sprig reminds us -of what it means to be a tree!


i can bear the heat(because there is an alternative
Friends who must deal with cold have none..
the loss @funerals is a Grand Canyon.
My sister marvels at the speed of leaving
(it is the age we are -to see our elders departing
and those too young speeding fast past all time limitings
i think of homeless under bridges
subject to the heat of APD.   i carry water like Aquarius
it is never enough for those in need
We watch the headlines in other countries-
turmoil /killing of innocents.This form of heat is oppressive
Oppression depresses those who would be sweet
Some fly for holidays away from sun-
Seattle,New Mexico.Portland,Oregon
I do not mind a little interrogation
Life always begins with an exclamation
Often ends with a question?


Whatever you are,you are rich in this-
consciousness!Prosperity is an attitude 
to be shared /with all who need
to become transformed into those who give
There is a certain brightness in aloneness
when you meditate upon the slings and arrows
pull them out (one by one)-and from solitary sadness
find equanimity worthy of devotion.
This calmness after storms is real and deep-
whether we have to sink,swim,or surf 
we are all celestial sailors in unstarmapped seas
Whatever happens next unknown(Here Be Dragons!)-
yet we still Ulysses out in search of adventures
seek the sweetness in the seeds of every magic moment
Make of the past a home to live within our futuring
and in this present island send signals back to stars
sharing our light with others makes a lighthouse shine
and keeps all travelers free from reefs and wrecks and Sirens...

Moments of rapture, moments of despair

Like shopping,when shape and form and colors call
You hand pick each ,hold close,release
Move on to the next aisle
This the gift of life-
selecting rapture,returning despair..

Wednesday, August 17, 2011


the sky is blue small cloud a refugee
suspended in blue space while bright sun waits
for air conditioning to fail.We are inside,hiding
Houses sit ,baking.Cars slip past,air on.
All we can do is avoid the obvious.
August in Austin

Tuesday, August 16, 2011


Intoxicated by the moon Muse
i was fool /full as that white globe
blob above and within me
Hanging suspended on high
Now she is morning(mourning)
eye in white sunshine
blinded by brightness
miss moon Muse via rockets
Spaced program closed down
Now in Houston/they talk about astronauts
like the moon last full night/gone

Monday, August 15, 2011

"the right to be forgotten"

privacy only one aspect-papparazzi another
are subject to censorship and scams
yet every email is tracked/computer forensics retrieves
every private data part of Akashic Records
ask CIA TSA FBI NSA why they are not open to public
In Europe,you have a "right to be forgotten"
whereby past indiscretions are elided from public records
and there is a statute of limitations on personal data storage
Hackers  anon have long probed firewalls of NASA and IRS
The ability to make scandals public needed wikileaks and open secrets
Now is the time to distinguish between public and private data
We are not and do not wish to be celebrities-Britney Spears seeks attention
Lady Ga-Ga manufactures it.We are in their audience-wishing only a quiet life
free from data theft and data mining-asking only for 
"the right to be forgotten"(like this poem...

HARE TODAY(gone tomorrow

i have never (to my knowledge )eaten rabbit
even in France,where opportunities arose
i avoid eating my pets
(that is how/i never befriend cows
avoid Wisconsin and Longhorn followers
and MacDonalds)
so i went to Victoria Markets
purchased freedom for caged rabbits
let them free range in my backyard 
digging and eating shitting where they will
until winter came,and they left me
with what to do with a dead rabbit's body
i thought their fur coats were protection
appears style over substance applies
to all those who wear furs...


Chronic Cerebrospinal Venous Insufficiency means cognitive fog,spasticicity,limited mobility and cognitive fog
Those with such symptoms are often diagnosed as having MS
To seek treatment,such patients often go to Poland,Bulgaria,Costa Rica,India etc
because effective treatment is unsupported in the United States
Almost all MS patients have CCSVI-diagnoses come via Doppler Ultrasound,MRIs and Catheter Venography
Treatment options include Venoplasty ,Angiography,and Stenting
As an outpatient procedure,stenting  only takes two hours
MS involves ALS,Dementia,Chronic Fatigue and Parkinson's Disease
Neurologists are largely negative towards procedures involving CCSI
With an aging population,such ignorance becomes dangerous
WHAT RACHEL DID(when diagnosed with MS symptoms
Tried Avonex (an interferon)injected once a week for eight years.
(After the seventh year,it had no effect)
Infused steroids in times of flare-ups
Tried a raw food diet,including raw meat
For two years,practiced ayurveda
Utilized Feldenkrais(movement education)
Tried a gluten and diary free diet
Injected Copaxone(interferon)for two years
Tried Tysabri injections once a month
Ingested many supplements
Tried biofeedback
Took LDN for two years
Saw ten different interventional radiologists
With the first,tried angioplasty of her left jugular vein
With the second ,tried a venogram(to check for IIH(Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension)
With the third,tried a spinal tap
With the fourth,tried angioplasty of her right jugular vein
The fifth used angioplasty to open her right jugular vein
After some improvement,regression via restenosis
Tried valvoplasty as well as angioplasty
Tried Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy-effective but for Optic Neutitis
All of these responses are a continuing journey towards liberation from MS symptoms
Education as essential as solutions for those experiencing any of these symptoms..

Saturday, August 13, 2011

INSIDE THE MUSE! and other shorts

Architect me this-speak spell sounds we can live within(House of Dreams
Foundations smiling/singing/we can be in rapture
Wrap this cocoon round us thrice
So we can spin sweet Sufis/as flowers Lotus in a Lake
downstream/Lights within/the stream...

"I am going to miss Jeff when he's gone..
he cleans up after himself/he does the dishes
he smiles and is a positive presence
"Yes(she says)I know-
Everything Is Devotion.."

There is no mountain.

Medicine Man/soothsayer
to spin spells @fool moon
Night stars constellations
Plot my path to find yours
We are where you are.

So he played in six band sets
So he sweated all dimensions
Everything is improvisation.Raga!

BASS BEAT(never beaten!
Spine of Muse.Lead instrument(Jazz)
Thumbprint in the dirt/lines on the way out...

Effects pedal.Hendrix reincarnates
Jammin with Jimi!

I am reminded of Robert Hunter
Poet lyricist for Grateful Dead
Bernie Taupin for Elton John
Robert Hunter for late Bob Dylan
Who for Kangaroo Moon?

Friday, August 12, 2011

WHY RELIGION(from above)IS HISTORY, and other small pieces

All deserts are empty
From below=a road in/goes out
from the past(every thing is a future)
From the future(everything is past
In this moment.Deserts..

Everyone has different dreams(need they be?
The paths to futures often leads ot repeated pasts
Paths to Light often goes through Dark
The path of transmission often needs a spark.Ark.
This is the role of Art.

working with workers in clay
attracting a worker in metal.When asked why?/she replied-
"i love the beauty of the shapes and forms that bend to my will"
I left these words in air(not clay,nor metal)
noting this temporary impertinence..

The only optimist in town has left
a diary full of moon globes/star bananas/a water bottle
and a Universal Cleaning Kit.I do not know
when she will return.(i trust,soon...

THESE UNNAMED TREES/these tamed cut lawns
Garden accomplices/all rectangular .Utilitarians still need art
Art needs patrons.Gardens need us.

My friend is leaving.All my emotions/belong to her end
They are as true as blood.When she goes/we will both be @a loss
This is the way it is=Leaving leaves Less(loss..


I will sip this sun until the afternoon shades
I will absorb gold rays/until i turn pink
I will write to you/with this ink tongue
I will seek your reply(Respond!
This is the only question=What Is True?


Orpheus in his Underworld(a Myth
up close,these notes are sweated,printed,imperfect
little waves that amplify a need to be heard
full throat bull roarer,frog croak,hand held howls
pulse beat coursing through all three-both hands,one mouth
Add lungs ,head ,heart,heat-this world is more
when all are employed.Each note and chord fresh stacked,sharp pitched,forked lightning
A wall of sounds from sand,volcanoes,torment,fire,torture ,torment,tumult
more employing curves of surfing emotions/continuous as breathing 
in a sine wave formation.Curling endless waves,whirls,whorling
Signals sent out into space(between us/both Light and Shape and Form-awakened sculptures
to add to every orchestra of stars/another Illumination.Hand held.Like a child
Another Bethlehem.Another Golgotha.Another Resurrection..

for the love of Muse

who was your first love?remember?
soothing sound of another/lap of sound waves upon your shores
all that is has harmonies within/aligned and loving
to attune ,anneal,heal the savage beast within
Were you first six strings?or twelve?
acoustic?or electric?Did you jam with friends?
are they still around?or has life taken them?
immersed them in things more urgent and demanding-
other loves/health/family/needs that call like a child in the night
distracting from that new improvisation you are dreaming of?
Say you arrive at BLISSNINNIES-what took you to OLD DEAD BUG?
GRANDPA'S CHILI-or any circle of jam bands like SOUP?
Whence this idea of shared musical destinies?of improv as a way of life?
of creating temporary autonomous zones as gypsy homes?
of living a musical lifestyle?What Festivals called you-
Who do you listen to now when the soundboard recordings
spill the truth of those oh-so-urgent notes?
Worlds change in the blink of an arpeggio/those lost chords
may never be heard by any but you again-is this why
you sing within the winds?as every Muse knows-
all it takes -is one solitary witness-and a band follows...


(exactly as they see them
They grow up with you and know the differences
between the public you and their private view
The gap in years naked.When families get together/sometimes civil war
Sometimes healing/annealing/affirming.(all hurts get healed/all hearts spark smiles
Undo all troubles.All one can do is agree
There is no more hanging jury /than one's own family.

i know you know this already

i am for is specific.continuing.affirming.real.tangible.true
i am for those aspects of your being that affirm others-
your generosity of spirit/your sense of adventure
your constancy,friendship,loyalty.You are example to me
Your intelligent altruisms/your vocabularies of goodwill
Your ways of silent service that weave communities with ease
Wisdom that you reveal when being bold defeats all limits and fears
Sufis know this dance.It is as circular breathing Your life a poem dreaming new lines/lives
Life extends itself/stretches like a cat,feels secure when you are near
Stories weave for Penelopes.Sirens sing.Cassandras warn and wail
You are a dream making real visions into true.I am for you!

nose following gardens, and other short short pieces

i could smell the flowers before i saw them
arranged in colorful formations/hands of the gardener
apparent in harmonic patterns.Without such care,none of this would appear
Never met the gardener.Only the aroma of her handiwork.

They keep a seat between them /for CATCHER IN THE RYE
he reads/she pays with credit card
They smile as they argue.He shares his snacks with her
They are middle age(Managers)

Withdrawing from all age -inappropriate endeavors
Depositing golden moments(memories)
With high rates of interest!

We cannot afford to withdraw.We do not know who we are fighting
or what we are fighting for.

eyes.smiles.torchlight conversations.animate.illuminate
guide our body ships away from pirate reefs and rocks
Shadows speak of Light-they say the brighter it becomes
the more they grow,So it is with us.Lights ON!

Looking,like Ronald Reagan
"for things to like in this world"
This is how we meet!

each day recovery siesta ....Day-dreaming my way back-into Light

Wednesday, August 10, 2011


Mark Rubben shot by London police
sparked off riots after peaceful demonstrations
were texted together ,threading communities in defiance
of police harassment and racial unrest
Next,young opportunists sensed a weakness
in the social net,and used their Blackberries
to message unauthorized shopping/looting
Disgusted with this,London residents
tweeted together to clean up debris-to show community
to distinguish civic duty as distinct from anarchy
BBC ,using film crews,were set upon by those
whose instant messaging was as direct as smashed glass
Is this the future of social media?
To Tweet,IM,message,peer to peer
while mass media is as impotent as police to clear the streets
Issues unresolved include these conflicts between
tools of social violence/and those that weave communities..

economy model

paper money worthless.less and less.
so folk look to longer lasting metals
gold teeth.braces.grills.bling.hanging jewelry god
to show they are as valued and as valuable
yet there is fool's gold-futures/stocks
in worthless mining companies/imaginary Kruggerands
stacked in vaults in Fort Knox-heavy as water
sinking in debt.Yet there are those who digest value-
they eat gold flakes on rice,make gold clothes/art
smith like Salvador Dali in silver/to make more out of less
I will not sing for silver nor for gold.I hold metal as Vulcan
Molten moments more valued than ownership,domination,possession
All these metals will live long after we are gone
Each golden bird of morning knows-life is a song!


much prefer a dolphin to a plastic fishing net
adore whales more than sonar nuclear submarines
water more than coca-killer/pepsi-killer
freeflow waterfalls more than dams.
prefer a bicycle to a motorbike
dreaming /gliding more than powered carbon footprint flight
tipis,to stacked highrise.freedom over prisons.
much prefer kinetic to potential.rainbows to flags.spectra to religions.
imagination over rules.gypsy over cage.
i like to walk as well as ride,talk as well as listen
engage in spirited conversations.perambulate around the perfectly obvious
until it becomes clear to everyone else/they can do better than this
by enlarging the real in to virtual/projecting dreams into hyperspace
making art part of life /example shining bright enough
so every one of us prefers difference and divergence
mindmaps,treasure maps,projections,emergence
prosperity ,positivity-all perfectly obvious
i vote for us!


At first,i saw them unloading/noisy in the mornings
Four men with tools for digging.They dug.holes.Then poles were placed within
Day by day,i watched as that open yard became self-enclosed.Thought-Palestinian!
Only they do not want walls enclosing them.Nor to be in prison
Yet here they cage themselves and pay for privilege.
A wooden fence now shuts in another Garden of Eden
It did not need a snake,nor apple,nor temptation
Not even a burglar could get in.
I thought of my firewall on this com


odark thirty -Central Texas morning-Lansing South Austin-
i am walking /meeting subterraneans/as they cycle/jog/waddle/walk
solitary seekers of slimness and thin hips
One such with a red light blinking
(for the SUVs speed fast past our dreamy morning joggers)
she points up in the sky above me-SEE! BATS!(and i do!
Small black flip wing creatures snapping up morning mosquitoes
circling in orbits that D H Lawrence would envy
Very geo-specific to these trees in Lansing
to this pre-dawn time of morning
to the eyes of those pointing -LOOK! UP!
They do not care if we see them
They are busy eating breakfast in the sky(take-away!
We stop for a miracle moment-then resume our separate waddles
By now,those bats have gone to sleep.Enjoy this lullabye!

on the streets

on the streets of Syria-military shootings and bombings
on the streets of Libya-civil wars
on the streets of Lebanon-demonstrations of solidarity
on the streets of China-government crackdowns
on the streets of Egypt-counter-reactions to protests
on the streets of Iran-gangs prevent gatherings
on the streets of London-16,000 drafted police
on the streets of Washington-peaceful protests
on the streets of Austin-heat and coffee shops
Governor talks to god.Runs as one for President.

if it is not one thing

if it is not the shooting of a London lad
and the baton beatings of an innocent  girl
and the corruption of bribed police 
and the lack of integrity of journalists
then it is the opportunism of youth
who see smashed glass and dive through to loot
video captured with stereos in view
and jails bulge with hundreds rounded up
when crime is always only for a few
talking heads back from holidays in suits
focus upon property and insurance
while battered poor in Birmingham and Manchester
join with Liverpool in wondering the issue-
is it really property burning /smashed?
or the heads of protestors /dashed
by any hope of integrity/in public authorities 
which they see as occupation forces
Civil war?or uncivil conduct?Your car
plundered makes for indignation righteous 
while the nation is asking other questions
Will it be police state/business as usual
while watching the economy fall?
Relying upon fearful tourist income
Olympic Games on the streets of Tottenham?
or will the cut fund young find fun in looting and burning
while police and thieves re-run Thatcherism?

JPs Texas

Tall bald thin storyman laughing
His cap belonged to the drummer of Little Feat
(and that is a story in itself)-his women all praise
his usefulness(but not his cooking-he burns water
and cannot heat frozen meat out of ecoli /salmonella 
He laughs when he asks how long we have been in Austin
whether we like the "changes"-for we know his response
is-"so if you don't like heaven and high taxes-
get the hell out of Texas!"His South Austin friend paid $8000 property taxes
and was told when appealing"the GOOD news is-they only go up 
ten percent each year!"He laughs again when he shares his musical friends
who play in the CAN'T HARDLY PLAYBOYS"@that dance hall
(genuine,with a sprung wood floor-made for real Texas dancing-all ages!)
near Granger(called the COTTON CLUB DANCE HALL)
He plays fiddle-or was that guitar?-never mind-he is a jack of all trades
a genuine cowboy multitasker-his chaps and spurs on the walls of this garage
sale.Today he is clearing out a past.We embrace his laughter ,stories,good cheer,mustache.
Tomorrow all this will be gone.Tomorrow he may be forgotten..

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

letter to sam

you want to know why you attract aggression so
when all you want is to be at peace in your world
we did not stray far from the cave, and spear and fire mean war
drawings on the walls are of a hunt....someone dies ....ends are certain
stick figures ancient wisdom cartoon our angry times
when floating emotions seek a lightning rod to earth upon
you are it,tall attract attention.if you were hobbit small and humbled
you would be as unseen as we anonymous ones
learn from the willow-bend in the wind-
you can(with yogic flexibility)stretch and rise again
sometimes it is best not to face a bull head on
learn from the toreador and matador/to slant from horns
every rodeo clown knows best how to avoid death
and still make a damn good living..


Start with a port and access to water
Build upon groups that make things for profit
Trade these with those who want to live there
Quote benign climate and easy lifestyles

Every city is Golden when it comes to promotion
Cycles and seasons see cyclic decay
Ghost towns on prairies when the train did not come through
Cabals of self -serving political crews

Climate may change to ozone alerts
Ports may clog up with regulations
There must be something more than service
economies to attract new investments

Power is coal,oil,water,sunshine
Power is control of Corporations
Power alone will not get things done
unless translated to community expectations

Here is where Rome fell,and Troy,and London
All great cities are niche marks in time
Cities survive when they serve their citizens
Assuming continuance is the only thought crime

We will always gather together in cities
as they fall,we move on to new markets more pristine.

"what is to be done?"

Riots on the streets of Tottenham and Birmingham
Shootings in Syria,demonstrations in Egypt,civil war in Libya
Chaos in Yemen,starvation in Somalia-
we see yet cannot change.Witness and participate
One world getting smaller .Old theories crack,break,destroy.
Corruption in Russia and China allows destruction of civil rights.
In England,they arrested anarchists BEFORE the last Royal Wedding started.
Wars in Iraq,Afghanistan can no longer be afforded.Yet they continue.
Core question is -what do we (in common)value?
Answers vary according to wealth ,status ,expectations-
basic food,shelter,work as our foundations.Half our world lack these.
The rest worry about protecting theirs.There is no bubble  of safety.
No gated community that can resist hacking  or data theft.
What do we have in common now that old values-banks,property,wealth-
stock markets crash overnight?.This means more than recession-
it challenges the core values of our comm/unity.If wealth creation is corrupt
with access limited to a tiny few-what will the rest do?Riot?Overthrow governments?
It does not change the unanswered question-what do we have in common?
And how will we ensure that all of us survive these changes?

Saturday, August 6, 2011


Electoral fraud is real.  Hacking is real
Diebold has political affiliations and loyalties
Hanging chads lost President Gore
Have we forgotten Florida?
Supreme Court is convinced
no harm is done when our vote is lost
We beg to differ-paper is no guarantee
(think of all those treaties stealing Native Title)
yet in this world where data theft is evident
it would be wise to have safeguards
We treasure democracy-the right to vote ,equality
Why deny our right to choose paper ballots?
When  Government does not trust the people
it gets harder for people to place blind faith in Governments.

Friday, August 5, 2011


First World War had to have a Second!
Outbreaks of peace and prosperity
followed by Recession then Regression
I am waiting for outbreaks of peace again!


You will not start /yr art of peace/with/out me?
O K-in this line.You are free.Release me! goodwill is passed on
better than passing on goodwill!

Before us(and afterwards)-there is no choice
While we are -hear? Your voice!

Eye think/we are unique-
just like snowflakes,DNA/fingerprints...peace..

Doves are wimps.Hawks are in.
Who follows pigeons?

You say no songs on battlefields?Wrong!
Bagpipes,marching bands,funeral chants...

Arms race? Hugs and cuddles!

Where you are is liberated territory
All your pieces agree.Peace starts within.