Sonnettics

I stand out on the porch to smoke my pipe
I fill it up with weeds I’m sure you know
With leaves and buds as potent as they’re ripe
The way the natives smoked them long ago

For lungs, I hear that mullein is the best 
So I pick leaves and lay them out to dry
To grind it up with ganja is the test
To smoke them both at once, I often try

The mullein and the marijuana blends
At half and half their smoothness thus combines
As if the two green weeds were long lost friends 
I smoke and pay attention to the signs

I call it mullejuana, now I share
That word with all you smokers, everywhere.

To contemplate myself, I must go back
Beyond the words I thought were truth defined
The truth I found within a tiny crack
Beyond the truth that others would have mined

The deepest mine in Kimberley reveals
The depth of filthy greed possessed by men
But I am more than just some thief who steals
Enlightenment from Buddha: such is zen

I stood beside the Neva, watched it flow
I guess it flowed into the salty sea
I only guess; I’ll never really know
But what I know is I was meant to be

To be myself and contemplate my mind
I’ll pick up every kopek I can find.

The truth is more than what is not a lie

A lie is more than what is not the truth

The words of gods are trinkets you can buy

I purchased some while I was in my youth

But now I see both truth and lie defined

I’ve found that trinkets fade and turn to rust

A waste of time with ignorance combined

Belief is faith in words one shouldn’t trust

They’ll take your money, promise you reward

But first you have to live their way, then die

The price you really pay, you can’t afford

Don’t sell your life for nothing but a lie

A lie is not the truth you find nor seek

And words are more than sounds the liars speak.

Her life was more than just a Silent Spring

A life of music lived with music heard

She listened to the songs the world would sing

The songs of every season, every bird

The daughter of a brilliant mother earth

Her sisterhood reminds us all to live

In harmony with Gaia of our birth

To take, it’s true that we must learn to give

We give attention to the songs we hear

That carry us to places we would go

And with our sister Rachel ever near

We find the truth of life in all we know

We know her life was more than Silent Spring

She led us on to question everything.

America, a place where all are free

To live a life of happiness by choice

America is home to you and me

To share the things we love with freedom’s voice

The voice of freedom sounds just like a song

The song of freedom calls to all who hear

It calls us to the home where we belong

A home where life and liberty draw near

Sweet liberty and life are things we love

Two rights with which we’re born, and one more too

With these, our future peace is like a dove

Of happiness that all of us pursue

America, we love the truth you share

With everyone: a place, a song, a prayer.

The words beyond the poetry are here

Just put your hand upon my sacred heart

Let’s feel the pulse of magic we revere

Let’s listen to the sounds beyond the art

Beyond the art is more than simple noise

Beyond the art the artist begs your leave

To share the reverent hope the world destroys

To share what fills that cracks of cracked reprieve 

The words beyond the poetry are gone

Before the pulse of magic leaves to beg

Before we find the colors of the dawn

And tack them down with some semantic peg

The words may be the pegs we find to use

The words beyond the poetry we choose.