Thursday, October 28, 2010

Friday, May 1, 2009

Reflection On Dog

Do you ever wonder, as I wonder,
what can be known of a dog’s nose?

Many a scientist knows how a dog’s nose
can follow the few molecules shed by you
as you passed by days before, and you can
conceive of a nose which knows where
a minute trace of substance resides amidst
a barrage of others, and you can
see that the dog’s nose knows
by where it follows. A dog’s nose
is truly an indisputable wonder

of nature. For did you know a dog’s nose
can detect cancer cells within you? A dog’s nose
knows about you, what you, with technology, could
not know about you. If you cannot truly know
a dog’s nose, as a dog knows its nose,
do you ever wonder

what you truly know? Do you wonder,
as I wonder, when you rarely walk in life as another,
when you would not want to know
any one, of too many others, who toss life aside,
as a bomb, intending to take life
from too many others — do you wonder

if you can know, as a dog knows, what inexhaustible
categorical love is? Can you never know the alluring
appeal for the delicacy of dirty diapers, or the illimitable
zeal for the tasty coated contents of cat litter? And if not
never, what of now? Do you wonder, as I wonder,

if a dog’s perspective surely eludes, how
Buddha or you, with your psychedelic drug,
or that meditating guru you follow can step
beyond relativity and the bounds
of self to enlightenment or to universal truth?

Do you ever wonder, as I often wonder,
how if not dog, how
ever could anyone truly know God?

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Grounds For Puddles

Puddles. Stomping
grounds for rubber
boots or church-shined
shoes. Grounds
for oodles of delight

to smile in a flash
of white and a clash of flesh
off which impulses leap
and land in squeals
and a splash. Innocence
grounded in

grins and in screams
unleashed, as wiggles,
giggles, and tickles smash
and alight. Children
into puddles, like moths
to a light, ripple delicious

igniting like sparkles.
As if skyrocketing
souls up into the bright
rainbow hue of puddles,
childhood shimmers out of view.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

What Truly Is Love?

is love a feeling
moving mountains within us
slated to dwindle

is love a friendship
flamed by being together
being who we are

is love solely deeds
done for another freely
without thought of self

is love fantasy
simply fabrication
designed by our mind

is love genuine
a gift left by the roadside
without recompense

is love about me
and about you or does love
exist without us

is love in the void
between the substance of me
and you fusing us

is love just haiku
syllables strung together
lassoing the wind

Thursday, February 12, 2009