Couch Song Armory

We have our own song

for when the whole family

fits on the couch

a glad song

carves memory

forges mental ammunition

and bulletproof souls

to last

in the savage lands

beyond our living room

so here

among our cluttered life

we run a musical boot camp

for the woman soldiers

of tomorrow

Shadow Zen of the Misfit Drones

better to stay a secret

in our own universe

riding hobo rails

or trout fishing across time

dodging train yard cops

and Kodiak bears

being free to fail

or be devoured

in the wild

or overdose

on lollygagging poetry

and ecumenical oddity

such a better end

than succumb

to those

landlocked sharks

that chew away our time

branded

in sterile horror

we’ll show them our masks

—a wink and a nod—

and turn back to the real work

of salvaging our own souls

Song of the Hooves

Soundly uplifting

to be the workhorse,

to charge unbroken,

scarred by thorny brush.

Make earthly tremors

a calling card.

Let armchair emperors

taste blood and dust.

Let very course

be a thunderous plain,

let every harness

lay broken beneath. 

Bounce University

an upward swing

from every down-pressed time

every fracture of spirit

every dying sign

basic joy of motion

as we laugh among the screams

primal, carnal joy commotion

powers scattered tribal dreams

jumping high

and shoeless

as if making pagan prayer

smiling and remorseless

as we immolate with flair

The Sunlight Iron Flash Muses

the heat of spring

brings the office people outside

brisk walk

to hide our wandering eyes

as the city aligns

to sight the sunning flesh

such fleeting seconds

stitch together the patch-quilt

of our day,

and fuel us

through carnal night

when our real work

is done

First Bite of Spring

The first bite of Spring

is the cool chill

that doesn’t sting,

is spying the last piece

of melting snow

with a smile and a wink.

The first bite of Spring

is to smell the coming bloom,

to see that slight blur

of color that promises

to unfurl.

To drink in the Spring

is to tread that dangerous place,

and yearn to soak it all in

before it burns our face.

Winter Thrives

let it pain us to the bones

the wind like splinters

that fires the soul

solid strength

piling higher than snow

savor the chilled air

the frost breath

that finds you there

to chase the skies

to fight, to dare

the hard, the cold

is winter’s great flower

breathe it deep

to gather power

Kisses for the Whale

empty box rowboat

in the living room

sets sail

orders from the captains:

kisses for the whale

sharp-eyed daughter

in thrall with her game

a glimpse of immortality

on the strength of our name

jumping and playing

no riches can compete

blood of our blood

makes a life complete

the news comes down:

there’s trouble in the skies

no worries from the captains

the ship is doing fine

Hurricane Dreams

spinning silent

like a strange carnival scene

upturned chaos

with a center calm and free

fleshed out,

flashed before jaded eyes

that let the clumsy jumble

erase past lives

silent awe

for the power

of dark times,

wiser men

see the value

of colder climes

vow to the twisting force,

the darkening doom

and the mystery it shrouds

and be snug

with our superior dreams

within the violent clouds

Engine

the promise of future fire

in the night-ripe sky

burns its mark

on our slumber

the pull

to be that knowing passenger

feeling the alien hum

and know the power

unleashed

to throw the dice

and risk your neck,

the cusp and taste

            of death

lets you truly live

From the Hudson Line

Chatty girls

run dialogue

through the miles

—puke stories

and mistaken texts,

who is where

and Spanish wraps.

Trackside

the mounds of rubble

are overgrown,

ghosts of labor

years ago,

dreams and hard work

now unknown.

Grind of history

merciless still,

but we power through

with power and will.

Irish Women

starlight beauty

drawn to kiss lightly

over every freckle

glowing face,

smile a shining emerald

of lost lands

smooth strong arms

shaped

to carry babies and muskets

eyes alight

with the power

of sweat-drenched promises

and closed for a kiss

that can keep it all going

another thousand years

Distant Lightning

a shock-white message

flashes soundless

in the distance

beauty electric

powered abundant

sears through softness

without burning

and brands

in our mind’s eye

the promise

of enormity and legend

pigment

for soul survival,

divine jump-start for art

fused from

primal power

that binds

even the most modern

to the ways

of the caves

sit in the dark

and watch the coming storm

let it draw strength

and blaze endlessly

delight in seeing it

char off

the soft false shell

to let truth in beauty be reborn