Pick My Knows  

There is a presence that we probe
on our sojourn ‘round the globe

The nucleus of all that matter
Men of science calculate
the ways of light and gravitation
with reasoned force pontificate

While without experimental care
others turn to God above
with awe that drives the leaping heart
for answer to a prayer in love

And I who seek to integrate
the laws of physics and of fate
tied up in pretty knots and bows
plant my flowers in their rows
pond’ring atoms in my toes
bless the source of all that grows.

I pick Wonder from my Knows.





Truth from the Sky  

This is a note to you that has fallen from the sky,
It brings to you a message from the forces on high.

It has no author, no penman, no poet that you know,
It comes only from a spirit, as pure as fallen snow.

Let the verse not bring you pressure or any burden to your soul,
But only guiding words of hope, to inspire and console.

As you freely flow down the river of your life,
let the current carry you through realms of joy and strife.

Know you're not alone in the world through which you roam,
So suffer not from  loneliness, and do not forsake your home.

Remember you are special and your life is not to waste,
Be cautious of temptations and the poisons you might taste.

And should illness fall upon you from mistakes made in your zeal,
Remember you shall grow and learn, over time, and you shall heal.

Try not to plan away your life in a hasty mental hurry,
Living one day at a time will help dispel that sort of worry.

As you seek and you question, you'll find there's so much more to learn,
And if true to your conviction, you'll gain all for which you yearn.

Wherever you go and whatever you see,
Let your strength and your passion be the guides to set you free.

Live by the words of this note from above,
And follow your heart, let it lead you to love.






When winter turns to spring each year and the flowers start to bloom,
Life renewed from Mother Nature flows forth from her womb
And every year my soul is bathed in the purest cleansing rains
While my spirit drowns in birthing tears and writhes from labor pains

But through the work the buds appear - it happens every year
They blossom into colors that wash away the fear
In the healing green of renewed life I saturate my soul
With a well spring of delight I spring forth towards my goal

Of breathing deep and loving well with joy along the way
I offer thanks to heaven for another living day.




How to Learn the Ways of a Tree  

Stare at the structure.
Imprint it on your brain
Imagine all the hidden roots
probing into the fertile plain.

Now fix your gaze upon the leaves
and fill your lungs through inhalation,
while asking humbly for the Tree
to grant you inspiration.

And as that branching leafy mass
finds its form and function in your chest,
the nurtured blood will travel to your brain
and grant you Wisdom in your Quest.



Sharing My Peace   

I've been troubled by a strange sort of turbulent peace
a yearning to herald this message of mine
I just pray that these words which subdue my frustration
will inspire you to love life - one day at a time.

The value you place on this gift of existence
is revealed through your conduct each day;
Is the Golden Rule your guide to subsistence
or has selfishness led you astray?

I plead that you ponder this question with care
and bear in mind that our team is the same,
for we all need each other in order to play
as we are the pawns and life is the game.

You see in this world, life is all that we know,
It's Heaven and Hell all in one
and though without evil, there can be no life,
without life, there can be no love.

So I bid you this verse to affirm the conviction
that love is the reason why life is worth living.
I'm sharing my peace by spreading the word
that love is yours for the giving.




State of the World 

Humans throughout history have struggled to survive
Locking battle horns with nature with the will to grow and thrive.

In the Modern Western World our consumption far exceeds
the water, food and shelter that comprise our basic needs
Heedless Masters of the Earth, we’re mastered by desire
for the comforts and the luxuries that sustain our souls on fire

We burn through forest, oil, and coal, as we fish the ocean bare
Winking in the mirror at our silky sexy hair
We’re boring out the ozone with our flouro-carbon breath
as we accelerate splitting atoms tempting planetary death

The awesome success of humankind has exploded sane proportion
The survival of the fittest, unsustainable distortion.

Is it our fate to consume the Earth like a terminal disease.
Bringing ruin upon the garden we engulf like deadly weeds?

I play the role of hypocrite in this cruel and joyous game.
For I contribute to these problems – there’s no one else to blame.
But we are more than pawns on a gaming board of life,
Through our collective efforts we can eradicate the strife.

Deterring careless self-destruction, calling revelatory intervention
from the sculptors of the field who hold the keys to our invention
Through exodus into space and the good work of our hands
Our actions will bring healing to the seas and skies and lands.

Look to tomorrow but live for today.
Try to heal the world in your own special way.
After days and nights of dreaming don't avert your eyes
Open them wide to let in the light – and never give up on the prize
Of freedom and peace, wisdom and beauty, love and good will with a dose of elation.
A sustainable harvest of humble existence will be our reward from the source of creation.

We must look to the future with hope, not despair,
We can make a difference, because as humans, we care.





The Secret of My Heart  

The secret of my heart
controls my life day by day;
It feeds my mind the message
like an ocean flows into a bay.

My mind tells my heart what to feel
this circle of faith keeps me going;
My thoughts and dreams become what is real
My hopes keep my eyes glowing.

Sometimes fear can cloud over the scene
For pain might lie on the horizon;
My heart and mind say not to worry
For the sun will never stop risin'.

Love is the key to the riddle,
Heaven and Earth exist as a pair;
I'm caught somewhere in the middle
and the unknowing can cause quite a scare.

For the secret of my heart
Remains obscure even to me,
It is the secret every soul searches
The answer is love - let it be.

But at times it's so hard to just let it be
How much control do we have of our own destiny?
Just let the love flow from your heart to your mind
And a love of yourself is the pleasure you'll find.

This love of yourself - one of the greatest of all
Enables you to stand, when others would fall
Use this strength wisely, you won't be deceived
Find the secret of your heart - love and believe.





The Muddy Bloody Trail Poem

The poem stirred in me
but I had no pen
so for ink I used the blood
streaming from my heart through my veins
in patterns of organization
like mud filling the cracks of my soul

With each unstable step
I wanted to own it
but it flowed through me
fast and free

I could not hold on
like the falling leaf
it was a poem for the wind
from my lips
the best I ever did not write





Words and Birds

Words of wonder confined in a drawer
I liken to the caged bird
Bodies of Beauty only yearning to soar
Freedom denied by a master - Absurd!






How Many?

How many days are left in the age
shadowed by ignorance, hatred and rage?

How may people will continue to fight
while their efforts seem futile to bring out the light?

How many flowers still yet to bloom
will find honor when passed to a bride from her groom?

And how many hearts in need of a mend
will be healed by the poems yet to be penned?

No matter how many days remain in our lives,
blossoms will bedeck the trees on the hill -
and the poet will continue to craft bouquets of words
in a bid to bring healing and peace from his quill.





Day By Day  

A little lost
a little scared

but Still

right here
right now

No place else should matter
no fear should call away
the tick and tock of every breath
living day by day





The Sky is Falling    

The sky is falling and the masses are bawling
The same as occurs every year
But what do I care?
and how can I share?
When my nostalgic heart too sheds a tear.

I gaze out of the window at the brittle blown leaves
as they're swept through the sky on their fall to the earth.
The spirit of death is alive in the breeze
Echoing reminders of autumnal rebirth.





My LA River

I knew no rivers as a child
just pavement bridges over concrete chutes
muddy bottomed mosquito farms
rusty shopping cart skeletons
plastic jelly-fish-bags

Sometimes we'd hop over Glenn Cho's back fence
onto the hard packed flat dirt plane
and play like army men
in a military zone
We dared not approach too closely
the grey depressed runway

Glenn reported seeing UFOs hover there at night

On rainy days walking to Madison Jr. High
we’d peer over the rail into the
torrential master gutter of the city
rushing brown like an endless freight train
and as loud

I don't remember on the news
kids getting washed away
like we see these days
I guess the river has grown more violent
over the years
I suppose back then it still remembered
its softer days
of dirt and rocks
and toads





Mind Dust

Like particles of dust trapped in a room
whirling through a window filtered sunbeam,
so the random thoughts and  images flurry through my mind
in a cerebral spectacle of seemingly chaotic senselessness.

But with focus and imagination
a fusion of left and right
I dance the ballet with  shimmering specs      
of microscopic mind dust  ..   .... ..... . . ... ... .. .. .. .. .... . . ....





Train of Thought 

A thought train
chugs through my brain
a grating  grinding pressure strain.
I'm thrown into a whirlmind
by exploding puffs of space and time;
My engine spews these fleeting clouds of worldly rhyme
for my sole salvation and humanity;

I am colliding with my sanity.

And I say to myself,
"Re-synthesize and take a mental lull,
Don't lose your mind
Relax -  Unwind.
It's just a game inside your skull."

And to all the players with racking brains
on the contemporary stage of civilization
The whistle blows,  "All aboard my track!
There's trouble in the station."

The world is a'wailing while the people are ailing
from a global crisis of the cranium,
And we all are the passengers on this cosmic odyssey
into a new millennium.

It's a collective journey through a dying new age
in a psycho-high-technological world,
A sacrificial head trip down the Urban Wasteland Line
from which we are derailing while our progress comes unfurled.

Such hopeless, blinding, tunnel vision
shrouds the beauty of life - in a veil of black.
But the light that shines at the end of the line
holds the power to pull my train back on its track.

For the source of the light is the notion of hope,
guiding my train while I keep it alive.
It inspires me to project this animated vision
of a destination towards which humanity should strive.

On our aimless journey through space and time
We can still set our sights on the light of the dawn;
If we hope and believe we will find peace of mind,
and our train of thought will chug on.






I look back on the poems I’ve written
and I marvel at the stories I’ve dreamed in my head
I stare out past the horizon
remembering the joy on the day that I wed

The chattering bird pulls my attention
Around the green and blue orb that is breaking apart
and try as I might to seek out the light
I sigh out the fumes of a decaying heart

While the clock is ticking
and my gaze wanders left
I can’t help but to wonder
of what it is I am bereft.

Truth be told -  I’m not down on my luck
I’ve still got my health and more than a buck
My wife is doing well with our baby on the way
Can’t complain of the weather
on this perfect breeze day

‘Bout the only plaint I can muster
is the fear of waning time
and the fact that up till now
so few have known my rhyme

I suppose the only cure to my melancholic ill
is the solace that takes over when I animate the quill
and out pour the words that make my broken pieces whole
Writing poems is the antidote that heals my ailing soul.





Taking Stalk

I am no better than the rest
with that said
I am the best
That I can be in this world of awe
It is enough
to say I saw
I smelled and listened and tasted and tried
I laughed a lot
– sometimes I cried
Bur after all my time is spent
I hope they say with pride and grace,
"His name was good
He made his mark
We shall miss his smiling face."





Me Again   

Who even knows where the time goes
or why I still try for the pie in the sky?

Whatever the reason,
throughout every season
the Creation evolves
while the old earth revolves
and I rock in my chair
with less and less hair.

I try for I must
before I am dust
It is all I can do

This is me.

Who are you?





Wake Up! 

When the time is right
maybe deep in the night
you will rise from your bed
with a buzz in your head
recalling all from the world of your  dreams

and then without doubt
you will hear yourself  shout,
"The world is not all that it seems!





Angel Game

Angel game
at whose expense?
Beyond sense.
No recompense.

Destined for eternal burn?
in Love and peace to live
I yearn
for Holy life of servitude
I search for
light and cease to brood

Land of shadows
dark of night
dream of worlds to be,
Calling an internal light
to help us find the key.

And I implored the Lord
Sitting all alone
upon the heavenly throne

Be not lonely any more
Come down to Earth like years before
Bring the Garden to the Land
through your blessed, forgiving hand.
Redeem the low and high the same
So all will praise your loving name
In form through light or man or dove
call all beings to your love
So on that day of witness borne
all shall live to pray and mourn
For time and lives lived out in vain
devoid of rhyme or reason
The time has dawned, the fertile rain
ushers in a change of season

Stemming from the heart and mind
Self reflection - One as Source
Respect and honor life of soul
Dance with the eternal force.





Lost and Found 

Wishes of my soul.
Falling in a hole

floating with a special friend
and dreaming of the end

falling towards the giving light
getting lost deep in the night
losing ground for fear of fright
I'm falling falling out of sight

You were there right by my side
and I was cold and scared
the evil evil murdered us
we cried - nobody cared.

The angel sang a garden song
and told us of the world to come
the other mother yelled at him
and said, "Where are you from?"
He only forced a dreadful smile
and spoke thinly through his lips,
"I am from a world of light
not this hell of guns and whips.
These children need to hear my song
for their souls will soon depart
this living nightmare of our minds
shall not outlive the human heart.
And the day will come when pure souls of youth
robbed of the suns loving rays
will return in force to guide the course
of life at the end of days."

So it seems we've drawn a special lot
and the choice is ours to make
will we live our lives in vain
or project to the wide eyed what's at stake

If you find yourself lost in these words of soul
and wondering if you're really here
Believe that you are because I am here too
and I know we have nothing to fear.

It's all about the world to come
and it seems that the dawn has now broken the night.
Wake up! wake up! wake up! reborn friends
Remember the covenant, the train, and the light.





Seeping Walls

I ask
and the answers seep
like moisture through a wall
from a cracked pipe
deep in the guts
of my Home

I cup my lips over the wounded plane
My mouth
dry as a cat’s tongue

I pray that wisdom will evaporate
and enter my heart
through osmosis
but damp drywall
doesn’t yield much in the way of nourishment

Oh if I could just tap into that holy artery
flowing from behind the facade
buried in God guts
and suck at the grail
until full
of wet light
bathing my soul
in Knowing
and love.





Human Tallow

What was that sticky burned batter of civilization
that I saw in my pre-dawn dream?
Was it the tallow of human-kind boiling down into paste
the first stage of our petroleumification?
the meltdown of organic material into oil
that will power the evolution of the insect people
as they burn out their lungs
in the breath of us?





Crumbling Hearts  

- 3/15/11 - after the Japan earthquake and Tsunami

Every once in a while, I carelessly step on half a beetle or a snail
and cringe at the suffering
and stomp it out of its misery
grieve for half a moment
and on my way

If I were God who loved creation
how much longer could my crumbling heart keep beating
until I let my foot slam

And here it came down across the sea
and now waves of grief are heavy in the world

but we are too clever and too many
and before God can put us out of his misery
we offer a humble prayer
a gesture of humanity
a sacrifice of soul
a song
a tear
a poem

We hold the pieces of God's crumbling heart in our hands
shards break off
and fall between our fingers
and away
but God's heart beats on
and God's hands hold our hearts
as they crumble away.





Tribute to the End of Days  

Anticipation of the end
yearning for a soul to mend.

Disturbing visions on the tube
sucking earth for oil and lube

Typing, working, traffic noise
Where are all the girls and boys?

Treading up and down the streets
Scraping skies and distant views
slowing into nighttime blues

Voice off stage says nearing end
somber chords and notes of haze
Tribute to the end of days.





Memory Candles

We kindle Memory candles
to bring light
into a world
often dark

This act of creation
mimics life

Burning pride
In glory stance
In Mind on Matter
Shadows dance


To be snuffed out by the wind
of breath
Or burn potential
and flicker to a smoky end?

Slow fuses
towards extinction
We and Candles





All poems © Roger Blonder 1988-2011