The story starts with a woman
Who exposed far off lands to change.
As I pull the covers around my face,
I'll call to no one.
I'll send my energy back to me.
I am a gestating pupa.
You either have enough energy to sustain yourself,
or you die.
I don't talk about Buddhism anymore,
because it causes me too much pain.

An emerald parrot flew over my head,
she had a broken leg,
but her other leg was extremely strong.
It didn't appear to be a handicap.
I put my finger out and she landed on it.
Who would ever know a parrot could have
so much strength?

Lee ti ta da ro

I'm experimenting on an artistic rock,
leaving pennies on the ground
to find my way back home
without looking back.

The music of words is carried on breath.
Seeking self I speak my own language.
Breath catches fearfully from time to time
as memories rise up and choke me.

Thoughts are carried on breath.
That's the key, mi amour.
The earth is breathing,
pumping rivers into plains.
It's a song course.

A man with red hair, a suit and a tie, looks sternly at me.
Of course he has freckles.

The moon glitters in the garden,
Subtle messages are carried in the wind.
They could be anything:
a woman's face, a horse, a baby.
The voice is a flotilla of envoys
you need solitude to hear the music.

My story is just one among many,
but few have come to the end as have I,
of course the end is the beginning.

A red dragon appears,
a metaphor for my cascading, fiery thoughts,
a slow marching band of soldiers,
and a pirouetting ballerina pass by.

Couples dance in circles
Women wear large hoop skirts
Men like sticks across from them
In a waltz with no beginning and no end.

A man in a white lab coat
with a long hooked nose,
scraggly dirty hair and great big teeth
brings me a bottle of poison
and licks his lips.
"What do you think about this,
Girlie?" he says.
"I don't know," I reply.

Form struggles to take shape
Time rumples the beach
Maverick, knife, inundate
This is a cosmology.
Lasso, shoestring,
the phone always rings
in the background.

Toosel-too and tales untold

A river carries my thoughts
Honey bees and honey flowers
We are all something
even when we think we are not.

No Buddhism allowed here
Miserable purple mix-up
One-eyed Jack
Innocuous Bullwinkle
Stupid hat, studying this and that
Okay, it's all over, Santa Claus
You are marvelous, darling.

I breathe for the first time
as though just being born.
Letting things happen,
not building dams.
I am conscious and I am dreaming.
Subconscious gossip is my friend.

Solar clouds
Bubbles in foam
There is much pain in my body
The pain of aeons.
Crystal water cave breaks me apart.
The earth is shaking.

And finding leisure in the practice,
Time escapeth all.