Mental Notes to Self

Raking up the leaves- Small piles of me everywhere- Stories I could tell

Autumn afternoon- Walking in the neighborhood In my well worn shoes

Rote prayers pass lips- Wanting, devoid of meaning- To feign piety

Go! Go to yourself- Give yourself to poverty- Wealth awaits you there

Son of Maryam- With God made birds out of clay- Peace be upon him

Mortal skin parade- Dragging my bent bones about- Exhale let me be

Blossoming flower- Molt primordial anew- Skip from fish to man

Cooking upon fire- Watching the coals contemplate Self immolation

A dark cloud hovers- From above God weeps for me- A simple rain falls

Sad street lamp – My artificial moon – I love you just the same

I am walking before the dawn In a raincoat and in rubber shoes. My heart beats low and heavy  to the weight of the autumn storm that has left a wash of muted reds and greens and oranges beneath my feet. My footsteps keep time  rooting out the expected order of the raindrops. Here, God…

It’s loneliness: being disconnected from your own mind It’s loneliness: a pale faced anemic space of skin losing blush of life It’s loneliness: of leaves carpeting my dark walks on legs reaching out step by step into the vast opportunities of terrifying tomorrow It’s loneliness: of children growing up and falling from the nest over…

Sitting in the car at Garrison station high on the L.S.D. we had taken an hour before waiting for the train to New York City – Must be somewhere between Beacon and Cold Spring by now Its cold so we wait while the December wind whips the windows We sit with our breath and you…

I wake to the sound of the 3:15 a.m. bells –  splash water on my face – brush my teeth and quickly run off to the chapel for morning vigils where the saints and angels make their first prayers of the new day – In the darkness I can not read the psalms in my…

I am 50. A Flaccid birthday balloon floating at eye level casually descends back to the earth to die. These poems pull me to the ground like gravity. Crude strings of syllables torn from the flesh of time.

I am a sad cloud. I have lost my confidence. I am in the wind.

A cloud hangs over me—It may just be the weight of the sky