I am guided by the trees
and by the wind
No other Authors over me
Whispering consorts or thieves or fairies
not even these
Neither men nor deities
True hearts rain, reign, rein
down on me
reine queen goddess mother
soul toiling soil
heaven’s heathen
sowing, woeing, waking
Is me
should I spend my days a’ lounging
enveloped in drugs and daffodils
dreaming the quick descent of shills
A New Ager said: Follow your bliss!
A Priest said: Under our Lord in heaven abide
A Marxist said: Come join the Universal Community!
A Satanist said: Kill yourself!
A Pagan said: Oh so wild is your way!
A Martyr said: Find your life in sacrifice!
A Scientist said: Figures and facts now rule you!
Seven wise men who suck.
A chill, alone, ignites me
Hallowed is my name
My kingdom, done
My will is won
On hearth as once in heaven
Weaving words as quilts to warm
Or swords to slap some sense
forewarned
You own you!
There is no other ‘woke’
for you to which to wake
Not he, not she, not they
Not me!
It’s so easy, really
The Cat in the Hat
just 1-2-3
you crawl, you walk, you fly
Just don’t follow me!
Follow your own personal
Sovereignty
And on that journey
I vow, I bow
to bless you
Kensho Homestead 
Your a poet,
I like your stuff here…it always feels like I’m going through someone junk drawer.
When I reach their site.
Everybody has one..ya know KH
And I like junk drawers –you can tell a lot about a person from their junk drawer.
I’ve seen a lot of them — marble rolls to the front of the opened drawer.
old key chains, and torn movie tickets..
busted lead on the rolled wood top of a pencil..
odd coins, and a green Lincoln penny.
Sit beneath the motel pens
The attachment ya don’t need for that device, ya don’t have.
Christmas card from a couple years ago, and the, paid bills.
A rubber band around an old ring.
and a pepsi bottlecap from a lost era
I’ll give you one of mind..I see ya like dogs Kensho.
Here’s one about my dog. He’s a American bulldog working for a autistic child now. He has a job, and so this is about last winter, a cold place and the zen of it all. And him and me..hope ya like it
WHITE DOG
The white dog stops…
we breathe in for a minute and take in the universal breath
Its dark out here…
its black and darkly cold, out here
The wind it cuts the image from my eyes
And I watch it fall frozen and split like glass into the snow
This deep, and unwritten thing — waiting on edge
for a free life to write it
too large to see it all
deep back in there beyond my visions reach
The starry dingle…I begin, and
now I see it
I raise my head, to take in all this…
Scattered diamond dust on the top of Iron sky table
and shards and grainy rubies sapphire blue split through the black
Glitter… and, the stuttering glitter
And Betelgeuse drags Orion higher…the father bears the weight of his children
And there about it all, those sparks from all those little fires
The white dog stops, and looks back green-eyed glowy still, on me and my light
All that loud shining sound above his head
I stare back and he blinks…his closed eyes lose him in all that
The immortal knowledge fills me again
Spirit moves in peace and…I surrender to it
On and on — cold frigid and wind blows snaps out like open jaws
on the backside of this frozen northern slough
looking back distantly behind me
a town asleep in glowing embers of its progression
and echoed detachment from all the real that surrounds it
Blue box light shines in every distant window
the faithful at their prayer in a strange religion
DOG AFTER AN OWL LOOKING FOR A MOUSE Between frozen cattail
thick ice I trust beneath my boot steps and water neath that too — I hear great wealth of life down there..dozing in and out of lengthy sleep and waiting the new green
The dog calls me on and not to stop — round the edge we go, on slippery legs and further into that void
Jagged long dead willow gnarled in dark twisted sketching lines and feckly shadows cast from a tiny light– and things look back and he and I look forward
I turn my lamp off and trusting, let the night swallow me whole
black cold embrace it gently lifts
I hear the deep thrust into the trusting place of a wing, and smell of feathery memory as the hunter is headed home.
Walk on not knowing were the ground is and feel my legs lose their weight…
Roll around embraced of that eternity, and remember that I have always been
Forever
remembered and recalled from times on another place, another thing
and white dog pulls me back and reminds me we are on a mission here
to find the best spot
and I am blind to all but that above my head and the direction of a dog’s nose
White dog and the stars are my master now.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would like to ‘like’ this poem, but alas I have no wordpress, no twitter and no facebook, so I’m just going to say I really ‘like’ this poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the encoded message in your poem, you’re an amazing poet and writer.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is truly beautiful, profound, frightening, amazing, sad, simple, deep. I could go on and on and on…
love you ** miss you ** soon
LikeLiked by 1 person