I finally spoke her name


did the unthinkable

on this day of days

parted company with

traditional ways


it's not what I did

it's what I didn't do

insignificant 

it may seem to you 


for once didn't go

I stayed home in bed

first time in decades I

heard my pain instead


her voice silenced since

forever long time

always playing my

"I'm fine" pantomime


and I power on

mutely holding all

load-bearing lady 

always takes the fall


this sounds selfish, or

maybe just I hear

old haranguing voices

clanging in my ear


stop showing off, you

just want sympathy

you're too sensitive 

in your pity party 


pain was inconvenient

needs were always blamed

tired was verboten

sick was ignored or shamed


And so I shut down

I sucked up my pain

like a vacuum or 

a spiraling drain 


of course it spiraled

screwed itself down tight 

frozen in my core 

clamped like jaw bite 


hand over a mouth

to silence a scream 

but she was too loud 

especially in dream 


"She" is a fairy 

pain she helps me see

she's much more friend than

they ever were to me


she starts and ends day 

and punctuates night

though I keep her at bay

still she shines her light


no matter how tight 

I put on her lid 

my bottled genie 

refuses to stay hid 


she interrupts my sleep 

sounds back alarm bell 

if I don't heed she makes

other parts hurt as well


I should thank her for

waking me in pain

so I stop heeding 

shaming in my brain


it's them I should ignore

voices in my my head

they get louder too

when I go to bed


not that I'm expected

to hurt silent be

by the folks I love

who also love me

 

they aren't the problem

the shame lives in me

in harm from people 

I once called  family 


so today I did

something differently 

gagged the voices to  

hear the wise fairy 


how did it feel to 

finally speak her name

I don't know yet 

some is still the same


it'll take time and work

to gag shame for good 

we'll do it together

in our safe fairy wood 




Where words cannot go


spaces, voids and places 

with no way to name

boundless sensation

no picture to frame


dwell in my deepness

marrow of my soul 

rooted in heartwood

parts in umbilical whole


Some radiate heaven

paradise past tell

some mutely suffer 

agony like hell


ache like astronaut 

clinging by eyelash thread

to a mother ship

where the crew is dead


joy like fairy lights

that in my yard glow

beaming out a hope

where no word can go


vacuum sealed sound

concentric circles fall

collapsing on themselves

mute conical wall


formless thoughts and faces

flit in nightmares dreamed

but when I catch them

they're not what they seemed


Yet they're there and real

deep in secret well 

intangible tangent

no seer can foretell


heard but unspoken

penned in invisible ink

beyond my line of sight

I miss them when I blink 


like wee red spiders

or tiny dust mites 

you only know he's been

by his painful bites


But for all the bad

that falls on deaf ears

much voiceless delight

my spirit still hears


with bone deep reverb

sound without volume

too low for sonar 

in full body hymn


down below bottom 

more felt than heard

past hell's 7 layer 

this loudly silent word


a void that sat vacant

is filled to the brim

flooding with light 

corners that were dim


pulsing each heartbeat

the psyche's EKG

sung in living color

by astral choir in me



Amen. 









Oh Captain, my captain dear...


monarch in residence

presiding from a tree

marooned on the beach

my driftwood deity


pirate king's throne on

schist striated sands

black to tan ombre

in mica and quartz bands


crowned with flowers

woven by his queen

in woodland frolics

midsummer's daydream 


bandana flag waves

like ruby red sail

from back pocket of

blue jeaned admiral 


Adonis adorned 

master of the sea

exhales cigarette

Puff in Honalee


Ponders the great lake

horizons deep and wide

muses how far it is

to the other side


Captain, my captain

permission to board?

this one man vessel 

of the barefoot milord


I'll man the mainsail

you the rudder steer

there's cheese to share and

an icebox of beer


I think on such as these

as the years hit 44

riding each tomorrow

to reach the far shore


But it's not the start

nor the ending bells

but in-between times 

is where living dwells


we've many landings

memories yet to make 

before our final bow

and curtain call take


So rev this tramp steamer

and take 'er out to sea

I'll ride with you, luv

to infinity. 





(reflections upon a random snapshot taken by me of my boy, circa, 1983-ish)




When the Wind's in the Wendigo



the wind's in the wendigo

at my achy breaky lake

vision found and lost

in a sick headache 


upside wrong way up

right side upside down 

here we go again

round the Mary-go-round 


feel a spiral coming 

migraine black and blue

brain cacophony 

no idea what to do


Make the bad man stop

try to stem the tide

with a goldfish net

with holes way too wide


all my hard work ruined

painting washed away

shushed imagination

where antelope did play


Chilkoot befuddled

muddy rainbow puddled

Tlingit blanket frayed

Seed beads all muddled


The wind's in the wendigo

my lovely fine pine time 

Dissolved by acid rain 

One more nightmare, mine


The end of the beginning...

Milo's tree fort






my grandson Milo and I

found a tree fort made of pine

near a school playground 

we thought it mighty fine


carefully he inspected 

another's house design

in ice-cream drip shorts

explored evergreen shrine 


Tipi-d tripod branches 

leaning companionably 

like friends on each other

just like Milo and me


we admired the needles

arranged upon the trees

prepping for the winter

to weather wind and freeze


He found moss growing

softly wild in the wood

upholstered a log chair

as great-great grampa would


Then he kindly invited

Omi to take a seat 

all pillowed in moss green

so I could rest my feet


we imagined a bedroom

"quite small" judged he

perhaps it was a closet

where the broom would be


The smell of the woods

lives in a fir cone

from forest by the beach

which he is taking home


a gestalt wonder feast

painted thistle and lime

marram trails to wander 

in a dune old as time


I shall dream tonight

of our cozy timber home

I know he treasures too

our shared lakeland roam. 


with love from Omi to Milo. 7.21.2026


Wear the Bay City Roller trousers and the damn tam-o-shanter too!



As the moons spiral by

and wrinkles in time, add

elder Omi repents some

missed chances I had


mummified by fear

wrapped tight in gotta bes

hampered by conventions

and will they judge me's?


their demands included

lots of work from me

yet excluded from perks

nor any reciprocity 


two sets of double standard

hats I didn't choose to wear

expectations handed down 

Burdens I never agreed to bear


Shrink-wrapped universe 

bespoke sizes too small

foreshortened horizon 

artificial fences too tall 


Too many vested interests

in the style cramped scapegoat

in muddy wedding dress

and tattered overcoat


I recant land-locked dreams

staying safe on the floor

shoulda punched the box out

and kicked down the door


too scared to smash ceilings 

for fear of falling glass

can't never did nothing 

by sitting on her ass


so locked doors remain

woodland trails untraipsed

too many effs given

so many not tasted grapes


Here's my advice to you

unsolicited though it be

you don't have to cower

learn a lesson from me


eat plums from the icebox

seize the ring of brass

fly your freak flag loud

don't let the parade pass


wear Bay City Roller trousers 

in Stewart tartan Blue

if dad says you look a fool

wear the tam-o-shanter too! 


in this game called being

you only get one shot

so take aim and make it

give it all you've got


play your cards to win

even if ya got a shitty hand

make your entrance with flair

strike up the kitchen band


The tilt-a-whirl will end

it's not that long a ride

you do the choosing of 

the direction of your stride


when the band's played out

when it's time to bid adieu

I hope you went with neon

and danced to your own kazoo


when Charron arrives

in ferry of tie-dyed hue

I wish blessed journeys

and Elysian fields for you


May you be met by

eternal arms open wide

may we all gather on 

Loch Lomand's bonny side







May all your by and bys be sweet


those were the days, in

Russian Dorogoj dlinnoju

around Formica table

mem'ry muted gray- blue


a doll-sized dwelling 

cramped trailer home

tiny shtetel paradise

micro, but all our own 


blowing kisses at the wind

making love and holy vow

promises to the future

benediction on the now


enough was a bounty

no room to store much

got by well on basics

lots of laughter and such


sad times there were, plus

mad with some bad

but boisterous joy was

mostly what we had


like the Lady of Shallot

the doom came only

when gloom was allowed 

to squat there rent-free


in a time when excess

was something to strive for

we enjoyed much muchness

behind our torn screen door


our abundance was us

such riches to behold

what larks, Pip, had we

a king's ransom untold 


I won't end on cant

Nor judgey sermon preach

but I will say joy

is well within reach


it lives in little things

nestles with the smalls

it's about priceless moments 

not what hangs on walls


May you find as we

deep gestalt bliss 

May you revel in

pure and kindly reminisce


May by and by's be sweet

May you take as you find

may the road greet you 

blest be the ties that bind










 

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