I write for people awake.
I don’t have to yell.
Some of our herd:
I see their eyes flash;
they know they don’t know,
but are not afraid.
More is heard than said.
The thread glows and goes and grows,
enough to hold and not let go.
Contact passes, but stays alive.


(glowing plankton:

Posted in Consciousness, Humans, Poem, Writing | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Wood and Steel

I sat down this morning and wrote a long letter
to The Mother and The Father and my angel kin.
I tried not to whine, I tried not to whimper
I just need some help with the straits I’m in.

The weak in me wants to hide in the covers,
the strong in me wants to fuss and rage,
the wise in me wants neither nor the other,
I just need escape from this corporate age.

I closed my eyes and sealed up the letter,
the stamp I used was a hope and prayer.
Standing in the sun I began to feel better,
my mind took a breath and my heart did care.

The answer came in a pool of water,
a shadow ‘neath the bank where the salmon are.
An angel singin’ tells me I oughta
let the wise man go, just play the guitar.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the time, don’t worry ‘bout the money,
the instrument lives just let it feel.
The love in you will flow like honey
Give yourself up to the wood and steel.”

Give yourself up,
give yourself up,
give yourself up
to the wood and steel.

young hippie jim


Yep. This is me a long time ago. To hear Wood and Steel, click here:

Posted in Song | 2 Comments

A Dream-Threshing Tractor

I am a hiccup in some quantum
field where there may or may not
be a dream-threshing tractor.
Imagination can travel
faster than the speed of light.
When you outrun light it is very dark.
These things are obvious.

My interest follows what I cannot see.

Trying to remember where I’ve been
is endlessly entertaining and frustrating.
Perhaps humor is faster than light, as well.
When the absence of light is darkness,
I want to balance in the absence of darkness.
I have no name for that place,
but its map glows in my heart.

oregon threshing


(tractor:; dreamscape:

Posted in Dream, Poem, Time, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Haiku–Hair Reality

The skin on the back
of my head is warm and smooth.
I miss my hair there.

Mature businessman with bald head

Posted in Aging, Haiku, Poem, Slice of Life | Tagged , | 4 Comments


Gossamer threads run
from tree to leaf, leaf to ground.
Mornings are my time.



(top:; bottom:

Posted in Haiku, Morning, Poem, Wildlife | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Haiku–Sticky Feet

Social media:
a flypaper walk all day.
Such is selling books.



Posted in Addiction, Work, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Haiku–Little Junco

Little junco, take
my heart and make it lighter.
You: a gift always.




Posted in Birds, Haiku, Poem | Tagged , | Leave a comment

No Reading Tonight

Sitting on the bed is
like winning the lottery;
the pillows beckon and
the fetus I sometimes am
will curl and sigh.
The book at my bedside beckons,
also, with insight and grace.
The poet I am sighs.
Carefully, I place my glasses
on William Stafford’s name and
lie down on my side.
When the light is gone I see
that I am humble enough for this day.

way it isBooks

(book cover: Greywolf Press; stack:

Posted in Oregon, Poem, Reading, Slice of Life, Writing | Tagged , | 3 Comments

Haiku–Shuffling to Nowhere

There is nothing more
distracted than a tired
old truck driver lost.




Posted in Aging, Haiku, Poem, Sleep | Tagged , | 6 Comments

Haiku–Who dat?

Five Olympic rings;
one for each continent there?
Someone is missing.


Posted in Haiku, Poem, Sport | Tagged , | 2 Comments