the poet drinks by moonlight

with the grey ghosts

with red eyes

until he pukes

he spits and cusses

at the birds

he pisses anywhere

he feels to leak

he kicks down doors 

seeking the face of his god

denying his existence

with venomous word

and dead thought

he shoots for the stars

anywhere he can find a vein

he wastes away

in a green haze

you seen god

he’s the flasher

on the corner

the priest who is waiting

the killer stalking prey

the deer shot in the heart

what fool would 

chase his own ass

the donkey wants 

the carrot 

not until he stops

does it swing his way

then a bus hits him

one day the poetic bum

fell down hard

laying there in the grass

a child sang a song

a flower bloomed

dogs barked

and for once 

the poet truly saw

through bloodshot eyes

and a bitchin headache

how much he hated life

how much he hated that song

when would it all stop

this is the best it gets

the way is no way

when you try to leave

you always arrive again

the poet drinks by moonlight 

and always ends up where 

he last felt his heart beat

Hummingbird Songs

Had a visitation by the Green Man. This morning I read a Taoist meditation saying nature speaks through the birds and flowers. Read this poem below as well. Big medicine. By Lauren Raine, 

The Green Man

Remember me, try to remember,
I am the laughing man with eyes like leaves.
When you think that winter will never end,
I will come.
You will feel my breath,
a vine caressing your foot.
I am the blue eye of the crocus,
opening in the snow,
a trickle of water, a calling bird,
a shaft of light among the trees.

Life Starts Clapping

Wherever
God lays His glance
Life starts
Clapping.

The
Myriad
Creatures grab their instruments
And join the
Song.

Whenever love makes itself known
Against another
Body

The
Jewel in the eye starts
To

Dance.

— From The Gift by Hafiz

Naturity

When there
Are just
Beautiful flowers
Blooming inside
What’s left to do
But be cut
And let your
Sweet fragrance
Be enjoyed
By all around
And left to the wind
Or hung to dry
No fear
You shall
Bloom again
Next Year

These are just flowers blooming inside…’tis the season. Cut them, share their fragrance, let them dry, crush them and make a salve of forgiveness. Apply it liberally in your life. You are perennial, you shall bloom forever.

Image – Maturity – OSHO Zen Tarot

Zen Moments on Mt. Tamalpais