People of the EARTH

The earth has many oceans
Yet if you look closely
                           It is only one

            One big ocean
                 swimming around

One big earth

We are many people
From many different 
                        Lands

Yet the air we breathe 
is the same
              
Different perfumes excite
the same soul

Same God or no God
                     We are ONE

People of the EARTH

Samosa salvation

Oh road where which way do I go?
Oh road of Sunshine and October moons
Oh road so much traffic so many bodies moving somewhere 
Oh road lots of death and music lying on the tar
Oh road of Bodhidharma
Oh road of Ramana
Oh road of weird pilgrims
Oh road of Indian mystery
Oh road of countless prayers
Oh road of mumbling fire
Oh road of wild Gods
Oh road of samosa salvation
Oh road of naked Kali
Oh road of holy hash
One step

One step!

The caves at Ellore

I left the group and stumbled into a cave 
A perfect womb shrouded in prayer 
Eons of time had developed
This shaman’s rock

Hidden from religion

No thought here existed 100 million years ago 
No Buddha no Christ no Kali

Only the dance of darkness inside a spark

There were no morals or ethics on sin 
No Genesis
No mandala entry points to
God

I was alone


There was no world
My breath breathed Aum
My body shook disappearing
Into a porthole of new

Beginnings.

Speak

I am the psalm 139
Make sure that I am not on my way 
To ruin and guide me on the road 
To eternity

I’m a poem for my Father

I am tears for my 
Mother

This I SPEAKS-

Drunken man 
Decadent man 
Violent man 
Shadow man 
Shallow man 
Shouting man 
Speaking man 
Angry man 
Atheist man 
Monk man 
Madman

I see a
Symphony of birds 
Going somewhere

This early morning 
Drinking is good for 
My liver

For I am a

Four winds man

Seven seas man 
Cosmos being born man 
Cosmos no longer man

SPEAK-

Carve Carve Carve 
Hack that meat
Kill that Soul
Drink that blood
Sing that mood
Dream that that dream 
Rage that Rage

Because I have been a light in a body’s soul 
Because I have been a painter’s black square 
Because I have been a stain on the face of history 
Because I have been an opera of birds
On the road to Assisi- 

I SPEAK-

In my dream I am a

Sand mandala of transitory life
Wild tracks of Buddha
Animal in my soul once a bear an eagle 
A prayer travelling through time a 
Soldier on the Somme facing death

A gift returned to the giver
A leaf falling in the autumn light 
A wild wind on the hill of Calvary

I sit here poet of Helen Street 
Listening to Miles

And its late spring

With the sun setting


To the greatest sad sound

Of his most glorious Trumpet ever born.

Milk crate bed

We wore pork hats
We listened to Patti Smith rage
We made love on your old milk crate bed

My blood in your veins

I bought you a book of love poems 
By Neruda

You gave me your mouth

Bending into morning
My tongue trailed along your back 
You quivering

In the soft light

We talked about India
We talked about Rishikesh

I told her she should see the sun 
Over the Ganges

It is amazing

I wrote you a poem 
You posted it on your

Wall.

Death of Frida Kahlo

Burn it, burn it,
She cried,
I have spent too long 
Lying down’

They sang Lenin’s 
Funeral march 
For you

Before the oven they 
Stripped you

Into the furnace 
You sat upright 
Your hair on fire

A seductive smile 
On your lips

With hummingbirds
 In your mouth.

Fierce light

Gods and monsters rage inside my head like a turpentine drunk as an 
Orphaned yellow moon drinks illuminations

To my medicated night-

You were right when you told me life is a paradox 
Between saints and degenerates

These visions came out of the blue no peyote or magic mushrooms 
My mind split as if by lighting piercing my atonement rock

My soul shattered in two crying gibberish into the new dawn
Fierce light burning away my false image as the whole world screamed

Oh brief exquisite holy gone moment
Alive and dying-death and rebirth-a continual movement

A never-ending circle-whole Cosmoses born and destroyed Multiple universes exploded before my eyes-supernovas

Whole constellations of new flowering frontiers 
And I, well I had disappeared into THAT

Sweet revelation I was no longer separate and my body
Had turned into a weight of holy water with my head exploding

Into fragments of divine weirdness and my soul became an 
Uncaged bird flying high above the

Firmament of my feverish mind and as I stood there I knew I was forgiven-forgiven for every goddamn thing I ever did

Forgiven for daring to think this I even mattered
This I had no more currency than a Wall Street crash

Worthless I was free to roam, no longer was I chained

To this wheel of constant becoming and became in an instant my wounded 
Angel’s grace.