Square Knot

Used with permission. Source Wikipedia.

from opposite directions each line meets, then intersects the other
the tiny checked pattern of the mantle glistening
red-flecked on white in a sea of blue swirling down its length
softly, almost imperceptibly, the kern emits a subtle hiss in adjustment

and around again, now skyward, arching in perfect symmetry towards the others each
from opposite directions, again, each line meets, then intersects the other
the patterns challenge each other in passing and on through the loops
and to end with a quick squeak, the final tightening, wound and rewound

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Sunday Suburbia

Tonight you fell asleep in my arms.

The rhythm of your breathing
from time to time
finding its synchronicity with mine.

The images of the two entwined
develop and devolve
under the flickering light of the screen opposite
a string of words and images flashing…flooding.

And in that, you under my arm sinking into the elusive oblivion
leading the way as that last bit of gin makes its way past my gullet.

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Which Rich

sitting here waiting for the drugs to kick in
this means as much now as it always has
but the way is different, the substance of it
another sip to satisfy the simple need,

to fuel and be fueled, in ritual and ransom
forcing the darkness, as one does, behind
between the two windows, under the lamp
as the intended course of action gets

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Six Boonville Haiku

    Inspired by Ellery Twining

at six ravens ranch
the towering redwoods sway
gently in the breeze

initial contact
tentative at first but not
unwilling to please

Anderson Valley
bakes in the afternoon sun
just before the fog

and upon the end
glistening and glinting in
the fresh morning light

the road back and forth
through the mountains to the shore
blackberries ripen then burst

sparring not sparing
in the moment deeper still
promises to keep

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

April 11, 2009 – 20 Miles Off 101

this time of year you can hear clearly the rushing intent of the stream even though it can’t be seen

it cuts
every second it’s cutting, moving and cutting, zig-zagging, digging deeper as it goes, a perfect perpetuity

rippling cacophony
the sound of it becomes everything, negates everything, is as if unstoppable, its roaring way made

it swirls
instead of faltering, swells into haystacks defying its state, then calmly into eddies and calmly into pools

the canyon
it’s gnawed sits in gentle acceptance, almost embracing, always approaching but never encroaching

waiting to be washed away

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Powers of Observation

not plain to the eye as far as you or I can see
but plainly free to be seen
by eyes keen of the hawk
across the field and up the

perception has levels, we quickly conclude
and out of thin air

and upon the virtues of specialization
a tangent is unwittingly
and so forth into
the complexities
we only think we understand
but really don’t

his body bobs smoothly as the branch
of the tree waivers just so
on a breeze implied
but his gaze is fixed

we agree upon a rodent at first, then address specificity
surmising from the grass
dangling from a talon
a mouse

and that’s when, like a reflex, from the tree he dropped
a flash of wings and
his broad tail fanning

there was a moment when we were
both aware of
each other’s gasp &
the breath held as the suspense
played out

then back to the perch in a bound
settling in and smoothing feathers before
with three quick snips
consuming our

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:

Peer Review

there’s so much to look at
and I keep looking and looking
and when I see I want to see more
and the more I see the more connections are made
and those connections
beget more connections that are tangential
they are related
a cousin
they are connected
by the sinew of commonality
of which I do not question
I just keep looking and looking
knowing that one day I will not see it all
but I will get my fill just the same

Show Other Posts Also Tagged With:


this may go nowhere
the electric razor buzzes erratically in the other room
cleaning itself and
and there was this urge to do something
in the form of words launched
they just kept coming
bunched up into phrases
but under the influence of words
that just keep coming
me and the razor and the robot doing its thing
bubbling, whirring
and someone somewhere stoned as hell
thinking about it
that thing
and how it should fit in
or better yet, integrate
or forget about it all together
and take a nap

but no
like pulses
and impulses
under no one’s direction
pushing at
pushing out
a smooth ripple easily washing over
and over
and over
like pulses
and impulses
and the razor and the robot doing its thing
but not without Humphrey
in the background
ruining everything with his ideas
on the condition of reality