MYSTERIOUS VISIONS
“Stonehenge”

Two souls now face
in a lunar embrace
under the shooting star.
When time shifts out of place,
a sacred circle sigh
pierces the silent sky;
an angel, a vision from afar.
“Ancient Wood”

As I wander through inner rooms,
this floor creaks like old bones in tombs.
Someone said that this house and I came to be
alive in the year of nineteen hundred and sixty;
but the pine walls are tongue and groove,
and they speak softly that other spirits move
regarding quilter’s hooks on the ceiling above
that wove a secret tapestry of long lost love.

Rough hewn beams hold out their arms to me,
and seem to plead lest I should fail to see
that the ghosts of cypress still reside
under the places that new carpets hide.
Whispers travel to my ears alone
every time I hear the wood floors moan:
Please remember us and do not forget
that we have lessons to teach you yet.
“dangerous waters”

on a day of storm warnings
when my heart drifts
into dangerous waters,
the moment the tide shifts,
i become trapped in a net of words
and my thoughts have no anchor

lost again with no compass,
no sun, moon or stars to guide me
only a whirlpool of memories
where the currents drag time under
coral reefs of grief, swept out to sea
when my hand missed yours
“Broken Doll”

You never would say my name;
whenever I read the clock upon the wall
both hands pointed to your game
of you are big and I am small.
It froze me in time and space
so that I only speak in the lower case.
Now, I wear a mask of words
that covers my heart like the feathers of birds.

I did not want to come to a place
where a smile cuts into my face
like too tight jeans I cannot wear at all
except when I empty everything from the inside,
and I lie down flat like a broken doll
with no eyes, no name, and nothing to hide,
that no longer cries when you pull her string.
Over and over she can only repeat one thing,
that is her name, her name, her name.
"Crescent Moon"

On the misty waters of the night
my secret heart took wing,
rising above the star strewn sky,
borne aloft by a dew drenched sprite,
tales told by dark wolf's cry.
What omen did the falling star bring
on the flaming tail of its kite?
New Orleans Soul Style
"Dark Wolf's Cry" 2002
Adoration
"Adoration" 2005
“Many Voices”

When the ancestors speak:
My hair is Zapatista;
Rebel, nothing restrains the wave of the revolution.

When the ancestors remain silent:
This Cherokee mouth does not smile at you,
And the moon signs are bad.

When the ancestors smiled:
Nike of Samothrace kindly gave me spectacular Aegean arms;
Now, I fling them wide with joy!
Sadly, I lost my own head along with hers.

When the ancestors do battle:
Maya holds my heart,
Cut out with an obsidian blade at Chichén Itzá,
Where Quetzalcoatl’s shadow unwinds on pyramid steps.

When the ancestors stir the waters:
These gypsy feet of mine wander along the Mississippi River,
Meanwhile, my spirit dances 
Somewhere in the Villa of the Mysteries,
And my Buddha eye watches the ripples of eternity.


5/06/2005