balls 3, for ms. c. e. moore

it is in the noticing--
the catching glimpse of the world
rolling its way down oregon street
on its way into the lake of merit
of yes, of still and how and in this
moment here and now
that captured wholeness
floating by
the real of wondering
wondering why
that reel of seen
forgotten still
that thing that's not forgot
a sliding foot
unraveling ball
a looking still
without a wall
a wonder not at this be true
a seeing still
through eyes of you
and yet
and still
and round
or flat
or even that the end is that
i wonder, yet,
is this still true?
they eyes of what becomes of you
i love the shadow
pinching
out
the real imagined
here
on out
and words
so luscious
rolling by
the ball to find
and wonder
sigh

comment, balls 2

for carolyn moore


the shark in the world
glowing at the edge of the gutter
of the sidewalk
nearly not noticed
gleaming
from the bike
looking down
riding onward
noticing
the balls
to save
the one verse
the one word
the word of the one
explained
with explain nation
a tongue used to tell
a finger, ten maybe,
or only nine really,
and only one at a time
at any rate
yes-sharing
animating
shining
emanating
here.

gracias!

a song begins itself anew

one finds oneself
on an afternoon spin
spinning in
spilling again
the wind
ahhhhhhhhhhh
and the wind
through the reed
does seem to do the deed
the wind through the need
does seem to take the lead
and so the deeper part of yes and no
lead the reed upon its steed
and song, instead
is still misled
in longing wanders
through the sound
of up and down
and down
and down
and long belonging
ringing round
the flutter of some shuttered gloom
released in flight around the room
a song begins itself anew
a world is born inside the tune
and so it comes and blows its go
and off to weary worlds ago
the last of what is only sound
stays deep inside the song
a gentle note sung loud and long
a window to a dream
i know
i know a dream
i know i know
and dream a dream to one day show
the wilting yes just how to grow
a deeper yes to root and show
that seeds that sleep so deep inside
in quiet times can only hide
but once the music calls them out
they stretch, unfurl and bring the shout
oh breath be deep
and note be long
the sound is longing
on to dawn

the poetry is coming

the poetry is coming
i can hear it in my head
the poetry is coming
let me go to sleep instead
the poetry is coming
i am not in the mood for company
the poetry is coming
i am not where i need to finally be
the poetry is coming
not now, i need a job
the poetry is coming
not here, i feel a fraud
the poetry is coming
i'm not ready, not today
the poetry is coming
not to me, not this way
the poetry is coming
i'm not a poet, can't you see
the poetry is coming
no, not to me. not to me.
the poetry is coming
maybe later i will play
the poetry is coming
i'm unwilling to get out of my own way
the poetry is coming
no the poetry is not
the poetry is coming
whether you like it or not.

THIS IS THE HOME WE'VE BEEN CALLING YOU TO

(resulting from Pat Allen's extraordinary offering at the first ever HOLISTIC APPROACHES TO ARTS EDUCATION conference at JFKU)

a black form torn from
wholeness
a hand outstretched with my
little piece of yes
an active bit of movement
finally
legs running
TOWARD MY JOY!
i am she she is me coming
from my darkness
i claim her
torn joy
and
T R A N S F O R M
i raise my tentative hand
higher and higher toward
ability
toward possibility
toward peace
carved from pieces of
myself
i see her, she, *it*, and
finally me
and when i want to
i tear the stitches
from my open heart
and begin
again to
think my
yes yes yes
crowned again
with yes
begin
this knowing
of the dark parts
of my happy self
offering chalkboard
witness
to that which
i must continue
to do
be
move through
i keep showing up
with raised hand and
extended bits of
yellow yes
i bring my valentine
into being
to try
again and again
to run
to stand
to move
to see
to allow
to continue
to be

yes

with the invitation
to dialogue i see

begin again
keep showing up
try again and again
run toward
your exalted yes

it is your royalty
your legacy
your heritage
all impulses and
synapses and
histories of
herstorys
before you
sit with
you in
this classroom
YOU have been
given your
birthright

THIS IS THE
HOME WE'VE
BEEN CALLING
YOU TO

keep showing up
the chalkboard
miracles are on their way

and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
and you 2
YES!
Still
Yes.
always YES
YES
YES
YES
YES
when you want to
it's okay to
try again and
again
again
YES!

and from that thing
that is your
empty center of
connection--
the vessel and
chords through
which you
have been
nourished
and passed
know--
we will meet
you there--

we will always
call you home
(for dinner)