my morning forest

my morning forest

is alive with songs

the woodrail and the morpho

blazing azure wings

and the broken clock tempo

of their syncopated melody

blue tanagers flit 

and scour to bring food

back to their baby 

in the bromelia nest 

on the gallisimo tree

their dusty blue wings

and the sonic allure 

of their tweeting

heavy in the forest air

like broken wind-chimes

kissing and piercing sky 

the mild wafting 

of faint smoke and humidity

from a slow burning pile of leaves

the sun creeps its tendrils of light

through the canopy and it 

awakens in a phosphorescent hue of 

glowing green

thriving in primal chivalry

silver threads illuminate in my window 

where the orb spider has woven

her mystical path and ornate design

a symphony of cicadas rises

like deafening flutes

in the key of “f”

i watch with coffee and human glee 

for another day to be here

and be breathing

i feel my air weaving me to the forest floor

damp mineral soils intoxicating

my heart strings becoming entangled 

to the tree roots

so that I can listen intently

to nature’s pulse

amongst the trees

thriving in her sensuous singing


if you see a man

standing alone

far out at whitepoint sand bar

cast net flung

its braiding over silvery fish

barefeet in the crystal sand –

that is my father

a focused brow

and capable hands

skin sun kissed

by the salted gulf

he’s there throwing dreams

in his net

letting nature soften

his edges by 

a southern sky

as sure as shore

he’ll get it right

on this side of the dawn

the clear waters

reveal sand-dollars

and stingrays glide

like grey discs

the dolphins

and the manatee

water moccasins 

in the black stream

sharks alligators

and flying fish

you are all those things to me

writhing scales

bursting the net

i hope your life

was what you wanted

it to be –

so if you ever see

a gleaming figure

of a man

salmon sunset

barefoot in the salted sea

throwing dreams 

and gathering things

in safe harbor

it’s the man 

he will always be to me


my father 

paper wing

what else but a decadent moon

glistening light 

off of the paper-wing butterfly

sending messages 

written by stars

on the black veined outline

of her flight

as dark as night’s destruction

like ink from god

you reach for knowing

you fail to grasp

that your ominous existence

is part of the wreckage

that your breathing 

is what is hurting

them all

far away

what if you could reach me

right where i stood

instead of longing

for the leap

instead of thirsting 

for the drink

what if i could give 

you everything you need

instead of a vessel

that always leaks

coming up short

and disappointing

what if i’m just too

far away for you 

to capture me

love feels so wide

i fear to lose

myself in its 


the light in the wound

the light in the wound

is where I must go

to find what I’m looking for

high noon sun

cast down shadows

rooted trees lift

their frame upward

to touch the warmth 

and feed their leaves

to abundant glow

to reach and yet root 


growing in two directions

i need the deep to know

the undercurrents of things

i need to reach

to obliterate my orbit

to spirit’s length 

unabashedly expansive

tumultuously wrecking

violent flight 

to unknown world’s in my mind

then coming to a place

of peaceful vetting

soft landing

colorfully minded

in brilliant findings

that only facing

my shadow 

could deliver


i closed my eyes

facing up

breathing out

the stagnancy

and block

oils on my crown

wide open vision

she covers my eyes

and i see

a magenta diamond

at the center

ripples into amaranthine

curulean wings of a morpho

black veins outlining

then the hugging flesh

shape of 2 fetuses

healthy happy

plump with pinkish skin

my unborn future

good moon

i shine on you

like a soft sea


the current’s sleep

small resentments

in the harbor

but hardly quaking

i twist like vines

to make it right

with you

my labored speech

forcing connection

your stoic blank

becomes a mask

i can’t wake

your eyes shimmer

fondness and pause

a severing tentacle

of reach

but the love is balm

and we feel fullness

laughing mysterious

as confident

as a good moon

tidal seek

the current is calling me

from underneath

rhythmic pulse of sea

and waves pulling

tidal seek


droplets of sand

the salty scape

colors of scales

fins of the faroff

a distant ancestry

souls that swim

an endless abyss

to roam the water’s song

where time is different

light slanting through

the particles

dense and dancing

yesterday’s flowers

yesterday’s flowers

resonate behind my eyes

like a flickering VHS

burning blue and red-

heat lines over the tape

barefoot and tangle-headed

from santa ana winds

a tumbleweed and a palm

transplanted like a fake sea

in barren empty riverbeds near the highway

bone white rocks bleached by the ancient sun

a mirage of water shimmering beyond

where the desert horizon melts

off the edge of the dead wasteland

that is a future earth

i run in slow motion back to the double-wide

wild poppy colored snapdragons

glistening and sharp in hyper-color

my magnetic heart drawing me

through the unlocked quiet corridor

of a daytime sleeping mother

nostalgic and exhausted like a living ghost

i reach for you like a dream

that i don’t want to wake from

my dirty little hands grasping

the cheap metal doorknob

it smells of stale smoke

stress pheromone armpits

and your slumber is peaceful

like doves are over your eyes

i squirm past the rotten

apple witch faced doll that sits

on your wicker tv stand

in fear that she might come to life

and touch me with one finger

like the legend of the man

who lived in the rocks

by the flash flood drain

behind our dusty trailer park

i stare in silence at your face

frozen in immortal beauty

doe eyes that are kind

free from usual worry in the waking

i need you to clean my wound-

a cherry stain appears

on the cream colored carpet

i reach for your arms

a gentle tap but i’m scared to wake you

my red chapped lips from desert wind

my red toe

the red snapdragon basket

outside your bedroom window

coming into view

like a mummified egyptian

perfectly painted

i can’t ask this much of you-

your lips form a small smile

but i see your body anchored

to the weight of sleep

i tip-toe softly

out of your room

and sit by the flower basket

until the blood dries

patting down the tangles

in hypnotic self-soothing

i can’t tell if maybe that moment

was a foreshadowing

of when i laid you in a casket a year later

painted like a doll

peaceful with sleeping dove eyes

but that would not wake this time

i stared for hours just to see

if maybe you would

to this day when i see

the blood bursting blooms

i think of us together

yet alone in canyon breeze

where they filmed the old star treks

in our hills

where you fashioned us

a rickety home

that is a burning memory

like yesterday’s flowers

that always surround me

too wild to contain

steam on my wineglass


warm air like balm

creatures moving

vibrations of critters

birds singing

and motorcycles on dirt roads

thick dust clouds

breaking branches

iguanas falling from the sky

thump onto the ground

and run up the tree to do it again

unusually large green leaves

growing almost before your eyes

piercing heat wave

makes your eyes heavy

monkeys roaring at sunrise

chlorine drying my skin

and making my hair a tint of green

like the algae in rio balso

across the street

or at the waterfall

where chiggers bite

and cool water quenches

to the bone

in the shade of its powerful


a beauty too wild to contain