the never-ending rainbow

one candle
creates the light
this never-ending
rainbow holds all the answers

each life is framed by the stories
we tell to ourselves

the split focus
the daily calendar
it’s the rooms you dream of
and the dreams you have
of places you have never been
and adventures you will choose

the clock tells more than time
and so does the ship of fools
sailing just past that garden gate
scenes from your past

you have to figure out your focus
and sometimes not getting
what you want is a
wonderful stroke of luck
all of this life is played on a
tic-tac-toe board

you can see out past
the open window
past the sky
to that place where
dreams are floating clouds
past the vase of flowers
and memories float
into the whole of your life
figuring out your individual
spirit codex

travel in real time
in your mind where
your imagination
can take you so you
can plan your future
even if there is some darkness
there is also night
and stars waiting to unfold
right before your eyes
step into the spinning now

the world is a 3-d hologram
a total illusion
everything is a metaphor
how do you
perceive the horizon
is it all vanishing points
and infinite space

everything is invented
its all unseen or does what exist
exist only in your mind
the echos are leaps and
flings you into reality
how we long to shape the silence

the dream is infinite
with many possibilities
everything touches your soul
life is a painting
and you finally figure out how
saints depart

you walk through your history
with today’s glass of wine
you are watching it all
in the rear-view mirror
sometimes life crosses over
to the abstract where you
discover even more

these happy discoveries
the daily in’s and and out’s
you live in the surreal
or the sentimental
or the harsh light of reality

can you walk out of
the pages of your book
the clear vision of your movie
where sometimes the edges blur blend and whirl

but what is thinking ?
can you ever have a vision
of your whole life
life is finding the edge and holding it
was it Braque that said

“One cannot have it in one’s head
and before one’s eyes”

it is not a reality you can take
like a journey for when you return
you cannot be in two places at once

or just maybe it’s a riddle
and yes you can

that is what life is

a dada walking poem

Visionary Portraits

Created at twilight
darkness inspired
retreat from the visible world

Sound poems
poems without words
largely unintelligible

All accident is excluded
from the cult of the genius
change as an antidote
to real life
change collage

real life with its technical
virtuosity of abstract hearts
and abstract living in houses

Art can neither prevent nor end war
so we turn to philosophy
and formulate an ethical principle
for the equality of all persons
and things everywhere
in principle against all principles

What of the artist studio
and the classical aesthetic tradition
this preoccupation of materialism
with time measurements
and money?

Republicans autotomtons
Uncle Rummey had all these
crazy ideas and what came of it
Nothing but war his
advertisement for self

This dada milky way
and just when you think
the moon is setting
we have a proverb to live by

And always more time and
no indication of time
pages torn from books
and journals
lead memories & methods
fermenting insanity
easy to use for everyone the message
just keep on the righteous path

Criticism of criticism
this leaf landscape that
makes love to measure
or jokes about their relationship
to the unconscious
all this repressed desire

Freud said do you ask
what is obscene in your world?
typical vertical mess or
the vulgarness of warfare

At what crossroads are their
a new means for seeing
an alternate reality
submerged by the waters and
the historical references with
ordinary things

If we choose to live in this funnel of solitude
in this thoughtless chapel of now
to express the mystery of that which
cannot be seen or that which cannot be touched
We must decide for ourselves do we have
A reverence for life and art

Parallel Narratives

Transforming Time

In this cathedral of the future everyone remembers
where they were when time sped up

True freedom with no compulsion
for just one single way
the good and the bad work together never the utopian
But a shift in thinking

Is how we learned to transform time

A Metaphysical Still Life

like most metaphysical speculations
[it] has very little reference at all to
the abstract facts of life, as we know them.

Oscar Wilde

and while there is no story
it is what you imagine and feel
and believe about everyday life

it is tv with the sound turned off
or a dream that fades in and out
speeds up and stops in mid-thought

and you free fall to the water

no splash and enveloped by darkness
or light in a stream of colors
maybe life should help to interpret dreams

silence does not mean you are alone
anymore than dancing means
you know about music –

you have to know how to forget and
learn about remembering

for life holds a story written down
and written over

the surface is nothing more than
a map is constantly changing
charting unknown waters
while a clock constantly ticks

and silence becomes more accurate –
each dreamer can change the dream
do not get lost in a past you do not
really remember or scattered wishes
of yourself as a mystic

sometimes you do not have
to leave the room to travel
to a foreign country

you can hear the echo of a violin
and see speeds shadow
take pictures with your heart

and never want to believe
more than you actually want to know
years ago you believed this
was a happy ending
now you know there is more

so get lost in the pictures
make up your own story
dig up the garden of your dreams

every poet sheds tears
and sees a language that does not exist

the visionary the future is held in
your hand just like a book reads life.

Swing Man

The appetite remains
But what are the expectations
for the future

Our new man should be
so very different than the old

He more free and loving
as he spirals to his interior
his equilibrium double reason

The cosmic intuitive
of the every man in change

One Foot in Reality

She is lead into the realm of tomorrow
Past superficial emotions
into a heightened consciousness
Towards a radical change

Her own inner reality
not restricted by logic
Into deeper forms of experience

Through matter into the spirit
She sees the cosmic forces of change
travel in real time
in your mind where
your imagination
can take you so you
can plan your future
even if there is some darkness
there is also night
and stars waiting to unfold
right before your eyes
step into the spinning now

In the Beginning

What if we have this beginning
story totally wrong

She held the molten world hot
She knew all the dreams and nightmares

And yet She let the world become

Each of us are our own Adam and Eve
Every story of love and lust

Is always emerging
As their world floated in space

Ancient Portals

Long ago mirrors and reflected doors
The nymph arranged flowers
and erased centuries

Passion was a dream
an elegant style of realism

She could be amorous or petulant
She held your calm impassive gaze

Yet you always knew
once you went thru that door

You were lost to love


The lovers and landscape
Were patterned on her skin

Each touch of
This tattooed map of longing

Where she had traveled
unidentified clouds
rivers of philosophical differences
all spread out before her

Staircase of stone and wonder and
She emerged into her garden
free to walk that dream

Former Knowledge

Todays living room
He was van gogh
She was a blue goddess
They sat and talked

The wine flowed
sweet and clear and sharp

The world was suddenly
more interesting

She was all curiosity and
He became a human soul

We could see how
the poem of this love story
would be written.

Elements of Time

Nakedness is the answer
to the first question

She spun through the
centuries of time

wandering through a
landscape it was tuscany
or paris london plain trees

She resonated with her
own reality knowing
when to go with tradition
and when to toss
that old cloak off

Sweet as wine
tender as the skin of a peach

Her heart was the clock
she knew from the beginning

Childish Judgment

From that deafening language
of never or maybe

The season of childhood
and all its temptations
were laid at her feet

And she only has to pick
from the pears or those
secret and powerful

Tiny wings emerged as
our butterfly became the
young woman she was


Never be afraid
Go toward your own


This is the journey of life

Some people believe that when we are asleep, we are awake
and when we are awake, we are in dreamtime.

Dreams are a subconscious reality
capable of putting in motion what you
want in the story you tell yourself

Darkness written down in a dream journal
in invisible ink, under cover of night
someday you will bring back souvenirs

Believing in fate, you see people
that you do not know yet, these
dreams are disoriented inventions

A journey of self, touring in the night
gods transfering their powers like magic or
like waves in an ocean through spirit or wind,

Is there a moon god that walks with the sun
continuous change in these mysterious rituals
but, you see that you never grow up

You delight in wonder because it’s so fleeting
a pause in time, falling into space, it is infinity
reality and poetry as pictograms for the soul

When you are in dreamtime you ask questions
so the answer can appears when you awaken
mirroring the morning sky

Dreaming is a slow motion altered state
traveling to other realms, dreams so real
you crave foreign food when you awaken

Can a dream be a religious experience
when arriving at spirit lake you must consult
the map for exact latitude and longitude

Go there

More questions than answers when
starting to understand wakefulness
flashes of these echo into the day.