Sitemap - 2023 - book of jobe

hampered by lust, ruin, and sleep

what happens next

I am from Earth

Oxycontin & Jesus

rubies and the wetness of love

the heaviness of crows

Respect the dead and pray for peace.

the sky watches over everything

chicken pozole

The 663rd night.

knowledge is greater than fear

You and the flame.

as light as bees

roll away the stone

the name you choose for yourself

our soul is beautiful, o human

cynicism & sarcasm

a thousand xylophones

The end should have some beauty.

drawing on the patio with chalk

I love that water is life

try to be a help

these are just moans from hell

the world will keep turning

those fools and all their politics

Now the sun rises, the counting begins.

the dogs of her body bark and howl

People will go about their usual routines.

the timeless immensity of being alive

the face of the child left behind

bring life to the planet

I might fly away free.

learn how to empty your minds

Eating the rotten flesh of the earth

The place where I was born is not my native land.

Man, I love Ray Wylie Hubbard.

you are the world beneath your own feet

living in this moment

“There was this three legged frog that wanted a new hat…”

valley of trees

Time that shines and sparkles.

small poems in the air everywhere

The drummer from Toad the Wet Sprocket.

"Cold enough for you?"

really nice cheese

a wrinkle in time

in dream time

gators trippin' balls

following your own path

a room defined by light

And then the clouds faded away.

Walking On Three Legs

We can be the example ourselves.

Neruda's Grave

shrinking with age

the grace of your life

time for a journey

Nobody wins a war. (2 haibun)

tend the earth, plant the seeds

truth or fiction

the beautiful silence

stir-fried with green beans

I sometimes still feel young

in love with the blue light of the moon

the tossing of the rose

the rose is tossed

an emptiness that lasts until tomorrow

have I done anything worth doing

calling bullshit

scattering seed

humiliating our political leaders

following the absurd trail

watching the animals for clues

we are the same in the void

These beasts carry no weapons.

lapping the butter from a dish

moist and loved by the universe

the world champion of coffee drinking

finding the courage

I'll just ignore your halo and your wing

it's all random

tick-tock it's fast work

I am still just muddling through.

to be reborn in the skin of a dog

believe in nothing at all

leave everything behind

the perfect imperfection

trees whose fruit is human brains

none of us are getting any younger

there is nowhere you need to be

to roar and stomp about

based on a true story

soft rain on your face

I told you my secret name

the strength of the mountain

a breeze against the white curtains

the highway between two thoughts

long enough that my eyes melted

a poem - a haibun - a prayer

prayers from the godless

An accounting and a culling.

we open our chests to the sky

giving up all of my absurd ambitions

a tomorrow with no promise

settling into the warren

no life ever after

a wedding where the bride ran off

to protect the earth

a lion lives here

his flames were ten thousand degrees

A chalkline around me on the sidewalk.

Words carved in stone.

The face of this sleeping earth.

Your life is heavier than air.

Being Naked

the leaves will obey no one

getting deaf and going bald

dreaming with the full moon

Nothing is perfect, and isn’t that perfect?

in payment for the torment

Wounds made by men.

an old album by The BoDeans

the world was a thing of fire

this valley farmland goes on and on

roots down and branches up

no one is eternal

the ripples of lake tawakoni

as thick as pea soup

Bird sounds and a thought of you, sir.

without horses or whiskey

Digging for those bones.

Be perfectly brave and honest.

Sniffing the beard.

Screaming from hell.

A melancholy that lingers.

Blessed with small things.

In the room with all the books.

just existing, not living

Dexter Gordon’s HOMECOMING album up loud.

live with awareness and compassion

You're not dying for your country.

the darkness of our lives streaming out

“Good morning, Mr. Jobe.”

What it is I don’t understand.

Everything good and natural is interconnected.

Looking deeply into the eyes of each person.

cows without nipples

the truth of it all is in front of you

Seven sins and seven blessings.

posole and tacos

this skin that I live behind

rejecting temptation in the desert

in a dream anything is possible

called a fool by a rainbow

the moon watches over us

the picture of what I am not

​I am not tame, and I do not obey.

we are all equal souls in this world

the magick is here

I confessed your sins.

the heroes are not listening to you now

a house named death sounds perfect

expanding in all directions

I am ugly like tomorrow.

a dust mite morning in california

what we love and believe

sleep-dust in your eyes

christmas cards that mention hell

rather small poems

the five Jobes

poems, bits & pieces

vague doubts that I live with

a song I enjoyed as a boy

your life is a broken toilet seat

Midnight with the books of the dead.

wet boots caked with mud

What will I dream about tonight?

the sleep of the hermit

Now the odor is jasmine.

going through the motions

written somewhere with invisible ink

the sigh of a Delta breeze kissing the grass

A new day is upon us.

let the weight be love

something gloriously different

in between the beats of an oompah band

all of our names are written down somewhere

no calendar, no clock, no schedule

you can knock on this door

you've stood at too many graves

When will the children break into song?

Walk towards that minuscule dot of light.

238,900 miles away, the moon shines down

I am not the one to save the day.

a garden for herons and waterbirds

an armada of the poor

The crooked political parties do not need to disagree.

Just be the moonlight. Be the shadows.

the moon and stars cooled your eyes

if you’re reading this then you’re still alive

that ache in the small of your back

faith and fire the drumbeat of the earth

the hard, cold, Baltimore accent of my youngest boyhood

Life has something lovely for us again.

rock music, marijuana, mushrooms, and LSD

bafflement and puzzlement

Let the beasts come and let the earth quiver.

Here, the bees serve an evil queen.

the permission of the coyotes

the message board of the sky

the birthday of the sun

a mouse in soft slippers

the roof of silver clouds

the priests whose god is money

compassion in one hand & kindness in the other

every morning brings another chance

we die because we were born

ripples on a pond

another day in the world

a new trail in old forest

Eternity wears a rain slicker

Strong books and stronger coffee

all the kindness that you can gather

the final eight peaches

the singing of the bees

let me sleep in the rain that falls on the trees

One river is birth and the other river is death

We should bury them together, two to a grave.

the love of a good dog

the rocks & tall grass of your body

take your sad little money and bury it

To tend with care and reverence.

"Faith." "Random." "Coincidence."

stand tall in the face of the blatant lies

The thoughts of the mouse that squints up at us.

Walk on the path that has no end.

a brand new box of your favorite cereal

That goddamned bellowing bull seal.

a thousand years of waiting

I have come so far from Baltimore

sitting in silence

I don’t need to understand the universe

the universe spreads out and I am alone

in the quiet may our healing begin

a wise cat who ignores you

When did I open the door?

a brief time without soldiers

So many haunted lives.

write for a little while, old school, with a pencil

Satori? What's that?

Is the bardo as empty as earth?

Birth is as random as anything else.

the men are here to set up my tombstone

squirrels rabbits raccoon sparrows

like the sky at dawn, silent

in the eyes of the Buddha

Monday is breathless and feeling tired

four sycamores standing in a row like soldiers

Roots below, sun above

the game doesn't end until dawn

they are in love with their phones

learning to surf

measuring things that are random

the wind that whispers to you

legs now too weak from atrophy

bathing in a river of fire

Those screams? Ignore them; everyone else does.

a pearl afloat in the heavens

visiting in their dreams

a sort of contentment

embracing the silence

Me and Trane and Miles

as loyal as a dog

a wisp of light and a stamping of hooves

The power of being human.

in this spell we are stars from different galaxies

it’s the road that matters, not the destination

a frayed flag smoking with blood

become the light, become the air

let go of everything

If you are truly a damn fool, then follow me.

you lob-lollies, you whisperers in the dawn

fields of corn and sunflowers

I am nothing. I am no one.

even the birds have gone silent.

the trees drink your most kind thoughts

Jesus playing goalie for Toronto

the cracks in time

for the people who have no names

the wheel-barrow full of pointless regrets

the sun loved the moon

adam & eve leaving the garden

failure is beautiful - failure is freedom

whispers and Ginsberg

moonlight through the open window

The one-eyed woman wants to sell me a chicken

something sticky on your shoe

a memory blowing in from the east

between the glass and the silver backing

how nice it is to fall asleep

handsome days, gentle nights

driving cars in dreams

we all die graveyard dead

the rivers of birth & death

you will always be young

the only option: keep going

stop making mean people famous

bits and pieces

This is why we should share it all.

the black olives of her eyes

fill thy mouth with laughing

why we created basketball

Arm me with compassion & empathy.

the gift of mercy

morning - time to milk the goats

a world full of dirt

Macbeth, gone fishing

a brand new box of your favorite cereal

My heart is tired; isn’t yours?

falling into the dark water

it's pointless to try to reason with a fish

the dog that walked 2000 miles

In starvation the heart hides in shadow

the sound of birds, the sound of trees moved by wind

a little money like death

a zen dog moon

morning coffee, fruit, and fried pies

birds & the weight of death

damn all naysayers

The universe itself is a part of the moment.

your final sight before closing your eyes

mindful of that which grows and blooms

loud polka music on the radio

the church of nouns and verbs

the death of the chicken

Should you be cold, I will light the fire.

midnight, mountains and ada limón in space

The court of life is now adjourned.

The only visitor is death. No one else.

eggs, bees and the big spoon

pulling a fire behind yourself

a thousand pianos in the valley

the taste of your river

what we hid from the world

translations & ghost stories

the seed I scatter

all you have to do is go

flies on the faces of the poor

naked and brave

the wolves are tracking you

a clean face and smooth moves

poetry, blues, and a llama

To make up for the food we lacked

shaping a river

Flies and mosquitoes. And Howlin' Wolf

the tears of blood

Somewhere Over The Rainbow??

cousin eddie and the president

thanks that is joyful

thanks for my fruit trees

the dance of the redwood trees

eat your oatmeal

the blueberries of the sun

finding courage, wisdom, and kindness

the patient fly

reading by candlelight

the taste of darkness

Why not go out with a smile?

the fish with a door on his back