Law library all week; hope to file this time next week

Approaching town ready for a draw

poem

 (untitled)

What if I don’t blow up or implode,

then what?

Santa Barbara County courthouse law library

poem

 (untitled)

Divine child, fatal child,

where your  life is worldwide mythological motif,

destruction whose blood mingled with earth,

tree, or stone, is redemption.

Partly divine, part mortal,

reminder of the immortal soul

in a temporary body.

In an old European icon,

your lot

is personified

by a woman in white,

fire across her crown,

a blue globe in each hand,

also glowing.

9x12" charcoal abstraction on paper

9x12" pastel on paper

poem/fragment

 (untitled fragment)

Please don’t tell me

you don’t believe in divinity,

please don’t.

poem

 (untitled)

You know,
like humans--
like have to clip your
toenails and finger nails
humans.
The cutest thing
one might imagine.

Pulling the previous writ apart, new crucible

(untitled)

 (untitled)

Time is showing who you are,

and thinking of it makes me

sorry; fire of what might

have been glowing so bright,

still, this far away.

poem

 Poem To Future Leaders

Approach of unexpected challenge
must be met with clarity of thought—
just, in all matters logic and spirit;
unfaltering vigilance
in gathering information,
and unnoticed spy-craft;
refusing burdens
greater than any could carry, yet
bearing weights
without being crushed;
retaining magnanimity,
restraining rush of tyranny,
where speech of reasoning
cuts confusion to heart;
where conservation of reserves
the narrative continues.

Gracious in education, knowledge
and foresight comes revelation—
a mysterious kind and perhaps divine—
a treasure hidden in Earth’s nature
where fortitude and character
is power in motion to distant goals
based on trust;
honor maintained
during desperation,
the oft-times solitude
of leadership.

9x12" abstraction