The Levee

Here is a very old and personal poem I thought was lost forever but which has in recent years resurfaced.  I originally wrote it in February 1977, at 17 years old:

Jewell says the river will bewitch you if you’re not careful
but I don’t think it’s what will have me to my knees
The levee will possess me in a while
and though I’m not a native
it will become as thought I was raised
right here on this earthen wall
Snow is so rare here
When it snows the schools close
Children slide down towards the muddy Ouachita
on cardboard and wet asses
The levee will never let them down
it watches over the town
it will see to our well-being
Jewell says I’m protected here
like a child at play
But I don’t know
insanity can occur any ‘ol where
The levee will see to it
that I don’t float away
until I’m ready
Jewell likes to walk it while the sun leaves him
He’s never walked it with me
He goes home alone and in silence
he’ll talk with his Bible
And I’ll most likely be somewhere up on the levee
following a stranger or writing poems or
singing lyrics of trials and lifetimes into the wind
Jewell loves his solitude
Uses it like his Savior
indulging in holy stories and psalms
matching each character to the roles in his mind
While I’m probably up on the levee
or hanging over the bridge
feeling this same sacred power
experiencing similar enlightenments
yet from within my own soul
Jewell says he’s a loner
He won’t let me touch him
and is afraid to touch me from a scar
that has opened and closed over and over again
Still, I know he loves me
and I know he feels more intensely than most folk
Time is the only natural fertilizer
for this collection of his, this garden
Jewell gave me a pendlem made of clay
Last night I dreamed that he hung one too, from his neck
reproduced from mine, both magical
But on awakening there was only one
it hung singular between my breasts
Perhaps he hid his under his vest
or somewhere deep inside
I went up on the levee
and sat staring at water and brush
and I found it
Jewell says when he’s on the side of the sea or
the line of the road
what he longs for at home is the river
It’s no wonder
I’ve seen his clay heart there
fully illustrated by the muddy Ouachita
Jewell says he’s crazy
He won’t listen when I tell him
we all are
I know he’s probably more sane than most folk
He pays much attention
to the sacrifices and glories of existence
Yet isolates his own from the whole
and says it’s different
and crazy
Jewell told me the river has bewitched him
Says it like I am not aware of this power
If only he could venture to the center of me
my spirit is so very close to his
and with the hands and mind of this life
I don’t think he’ll ever really know it

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The New Jerusalem

Serpents hissing and spitting around the crown
just like with our poor Sweet Jesus
in the desert and on the Mount
Raw wisdom pours from the deep inner well
Surfaces in fractured truths
in books and language, eons of stories
childhood rumors and heated speculation
It comes in words and symbols, color and form
in songs of the etheric condition
perpetual drama of the heart
reaffirming what the heart always embraced
Things make sense now
Things are more clear
Recognizing those demons’ history of antagonism
their tired story, their sad and sorry plight
somehow makes them scatter then fade
Radiant bits of knowledge from a higher Brotherhood
messages littered throughout our days so long ago not
quite yet pertinent take on full dimensions now
take on form and meaning, generating only good will
Language of the spirit and of the seasons’ passion
speaks to us through cherished emblems
of the turning of years and centuries
Now is the time of understanding
Even that of ourselves
we only lonely had glimpses

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Quarter Century Sober!

  This day marks 25 amazing years since I quit drinking, an enormous feat in my life of which I am very proud.  This time last year I posted a little story describing the circumstances surrounding my permanently giving up the bottle.  Today, to anyone who may be struggling with a drinking problem, I would just like to say this:  There is no one magic bullet to overcome this obstacle, it’s different for every single person.  You do what works for you, not anybody else.  Try not to worry about all the outside influences; let the rest of the world take care of itself, while you just keep taking it one day, hour, heartbeat at a time…

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Number Nine: The Chameleon

So now we have worked our way up the spectrum of numerology vibrations to number 9, last of the single digits and completion of the base numbers scale.   9 is definitely about completion:  of life’s cycles, chapters, accomplishments and missions; of old patterns, life lessons and karmic trends.  With this remarkable number, outmoded energy circuits are brought to a close, loose ends tied up and the ultimate plateau is reached wherein lies infinite spaces for fresh new endeavors.

Number 9 has come so far to be where it is, working its way through the entire progression of creation, and so is indeed a very old and very wise vibration.  Observant and well-learned, it sees all and holds fast to its vision.  This can sometimes result in a rather obsessive state of mind, as 9 is very certain about what it perceives and will not be swayed.  But empathy isn’t lost in the knowledge here, and numeral 9 is nothing if it’s not compassionate about all that it bears witness to.

At the heart of 9 lies a high degree of wanderlust, for this vibration embraces all culture, customs, language and geographical wonders that the world has to offer.  This desire to roam and to accrue diverse experience is by no means limited to planet earth alone; 9’s mystical mode of reckoning extends out to the stars, other planets, galaxies and parallel universes, within and without.  Its wondrous byways include the journey a soul will take inside of itself as well as from one lifetime to the next.

Considering the maximum exposure to all lifestyles, its holistic attitude and beatific interest in all life forms, 9 is the most understanding vibration and feels very deeply for every creature to share its space or even its consciousness.  9 is therefore capable of resonating all things to all beings, adapting easily to many different surroundings and situations.  In this light, we are dealing with a sort of chameleon of number vibrations here, as it blends naturally with any environment while allowing all that exists there to continue in its unique and specialized manner.  This endearing function is illustrated on a mathematical plane:  place 9 next to any other number or derivative of that number, and the digits of the sum will always add up (or down) to the same original single digit.  Also, multiply any number by 9, and the product, when added down to a singular, will always be 9.  These organically occurring rules of arithmetic reflect the tolerant, resilient, open-ended character of 9, which occurs on any plane or dimension.

9’s charming ambiance is indeed magical and touches upon all facets of living, but none as much as the truest magic of forgiveness.  Being the least materialistic number–as it completely transcends material ties–being quite virtuous in its teachings and holding the highest of principles; 9’s most golden function, outside of its selfless unconditional love, is that of forgiving and letting go.  Thus, allowing for the healing transformation of absolution to take place.

9’s corresponding color is a golden hue and all pastels.  Its gemstone is opal; its soaring alchemy is also contained within the precious metal of gold.  The 9th chakra is a vibrant, glowing energy center that we may not even fathom in our dreams.

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Wild Seed (The Night Is My Friend)

The night is my friend
Gravity my alibi
Under cover of the stars
I watch my dreams fly
away out of here over some mythical horizon
where the sun always sets
and the mirrored moon rising
always fills the darkness
with what would have been
with time’s infinite treasures
like old records, the music
of our cells as they spin
(I listen to the songs over & over again)
The night is my only friend
Gravity my alibi
I’m a wild seed drifting
beneath the loyal stars
watching my dreams fly, one by one
under the constant tone of the setting sun
The night is my friend
’cause the sun, it always sets
and I can disappear into darkness
That universal melting pot of scratch
of lost fantasy and broken illusion
(The love never left my heart
even when tortured or muddled
by so many unsavory intrusions)
The love is all I recognize
My only true vow
All the rest of the drama behind me now
I had to leave it all behind
I had to, knowing full well
there is no special place for a wild seed
no home or plot of any kind
It just grows where it will
Blown away in the wind by the pull of the stars
and a massive, relentless tidal heart spill

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Look Into The Sun


Look into the sun
Feel the magnetic anomaly
Look into the moon
where all your memories are hidden
Your eyes will shine like gems
Every vibrant soul a precious gem
in this golden cosmic adornment
Every star in cold dark space
a diamond in the dusty treasure chest of time
Strung with beads of fine rare stones
Glowing with the passion of infinite hearts
Look into the sun if you dare
Our destinies orbiting around one another there
Your eyes will shine with secrets
of other worlds
Every planet’s legend
will beckon to your call

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Mirror Tricks

Have you ever looked back on some of your own past creations in awe as they speak to you now louder than ever?

While recently thumbing through an old poetry journal of mine from 1997, I saw traces of a certain pattern:



To judge someone of anything
any crime so heneous or violation
down to the most basic personal level
Is simply bringing that same judgement
in amazing exact proportions against oneself
This is a truth which penetrates the veil of living
and is so far imbedded into every thread
which holds the laws of the universe and
our own little worlds together
This, a truth which could not be simply read here, or anywhere
and then absorbed down to the molecular level
The Bible
The Kabala
Keys of Enoch
Book of The Dead
The Course in Miracles…
How many mass-scale scripts?
They all have recorded this golden law, I’m sure
But you will never learn it that way
The words are empty, a mere cliche
Until you find yourself in the midst of your heart
It takes a lifetime of pure raw energy
to see to know to feel to really understand
any action or thought
brought against any being
outside of oneself
brings oneself
against the self


Forgiveness is the golden nectar
The essential rule of humanity
What actually keeps us going, keeps our souls glowing
Yet can become quite a tricky concept
when brought down into our own little modes of perception
We understand this precious rule
even activate it in our lives
Feeling the true meaning of forgiveness in our hearts
And yet there always seems to be an exemption
Always that one thing burning away at our sensibilities
that we think we could never let go
We do this without even knowing it sometimes
Keep our own little private score cards
with that which is so hard to pardon, inexcusable
But in reality there are no special cases
And this basic function of our souls will save us
because it applies like the strangest of medicines
to the tiniest scrape and the coldest, meanest blow
our heart could ever take
The true test is to forgive
that which seems impossible
to bestow forgiveness upon
The darker the deed, when undone
will bring the most satisfying peace


When I said you may not have liked what you’d seen
if you looked at me so many years ago
All I meant
is that my confidence and self-respect
were at a very low peak
Hope was running bleak
and I poured into my flesh every poison or crude medicine
every numbing agent I could get my hands on
Treated my sacred temple
like a mad scientist’s chemical lab
like a clown punching bag, beat down
and right back up in your face again
Over bearing, whiskey cheeks
and kind of mean
That’s all I’m saying:
you may not have liked me much
’cause I didn’t like myself


How can I walk with lost souls
or sit with fallen angels
without becoming the fallen angel I am?
How can the light shine from within
when I refuse to see that same light in others?


Only happy ghosts hang around today
watching through the woodwork
and the shadows which always know
but never tell
Only happy ghosts
’cause my heart is lighter and stronger
and I’m not afraid to see
I know this old house from both sides of the mirror
where these phantoms are watching
and they recognize me
from inside my dreams


Mirror tricks
Is it really so tricky?
Those two-way mirrors
how many ways do they reflect?
Defying the law of miracles
Something so good turns out so bad
Then could the darker illusions really be golden?
Will the universal laws ever function in my favor?

Mirror tricks
There’s really no trick to it at all
See the good & the fine
and you are good & fine
See the evil
and there you go

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The Golden Dusk Hour


In the golden dusk hour
silence settles over everything
like an uneasy shroud
Unearthly silence, and a haunting stillness
like the pause between heartbeats
Mother Nature holding her breath

The muted ground moans
echoing throughout the galaxy
Bones rattling in the void
as seasons disintegrate into the stars
and eternal summer, that summer of your heart

Hold on to those feelings
Recall your innocence
Hold on to your bliss
in the golden dusk hour

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Number Eight: Balance of Infinity

On the plane of numbers philosophy 8 represents the ultimate balance of all life energies and due justice for all life forms.  This universal equilibrium is not necessarily likened to the scales of courtroom and human law–although it can include those aspects–it’s rather a concept of cause & effect that exists and operates far beyond the praising or punishing hand of mankind.

It could be said that a soul’s conscience when in true rightness with itself is sustained by the same balancing force that governs the physical and karmic laws of the universe.  The point is not to necessarily be right or wrong from an ego’s perspective, yet in line with true correctness and fairness projected by the infinite loving intelligent force many have come to calling God; acknowledging the larger true purpose for every action and reaction.  Once one has in sound mind looked into their heart and has recognized the right thing to do, they are one and the same with the very essence of that boundless force.

And so it is less important to accumulate votes or points for reinforcing one’s opinion, and more important to elevate that opinion to the most golden level within one’s own conscience and see if it holds up there.  This ground zero means of existence is every individual’s sum piece of infinity, portal to all abundances, and is what the frequency of 8 is all about.

Even the symbol for number 8 is the sign of infinity standing on end, a twisted zero, like the mathematical Moebius strip:  one plane or surface that dips & curves and appears to divide but doesn’t, eternally feeding into itself.  This perpetual self-justified balancing act could be thought of as the entirety and the nucleus of creation.  The infinity sign–or sideways 8–surfaces in many interesting places, not the least of which being the Tarot deck:  above the heads like a halo of the people on the cards holding the Magician and Strength, the latter being card number 8 of the higher arcana in itself; bearing a woman taming a lion–the perfect balance of power.  This, at the very least, shining light on the notion that all things are indeed intricately connected.

Numeral 8 can also reflect certain elements of trade, commerce and economics but not in the sense of profit & gain, hoarding, accumulation or greed; not within that traditional “he who dies with the most toys wins”  attitude of mind.  That type of money and thing-loving would more likely thrive under the 6 vibration, the number of earthly, materialistic values.  Number 8, on the other hand, is concerned with the proper flow and distribution of goods, services, energy and just cause throughout the entire lot of the cosmos.

Because the 8 vibration understands any system of legal tender to be simply a medium for the equitable fulfillment of all needs, individuals with heavy influence of 8-ness in their personal chart may be faced up with lessons of this sort in the handling of finance.  They may also–depending upon where in their chart the 8 falls–be continually concerned or faced with or even obsessed with doing the right thing; decision-making which would, if carried out correctly, result in more than the average sense of justice.

Within the concept of numerology, the base number principles are contained within the digits 1 through 9; the last three of 7, 8 and 9 operating from frequencies “higher” than is generally accustomed to on the typical earth plane.  And of theses three more fine-tuned vibrations, 8 once again finds itself in the position of mediator while being nestled between 7 (the first number to venture away from the physical) and 9 (the completion  of the base scale and connoisseur of those higher, formless planes).  In this light, 8 may be thought of as the mechanical harmony of all the invisible things that make our worlds run.

8’s corresponding rays of color are rusty hues:  brownish-orange, crimson and pink.  Its gemstone is dark amber, blood stone or diamond.  It is generally believed that the body contains 7 chakras or energy centers which correspond with points on the astral body and keep us connected to all that is.  Of these, the 7th is at the top of the head or crown and joins our physical being with those of the heavenly realms.  But some understand there to be 9 or more chakras in all, the ones higher in count than 7 existing above the head, like halos indeed, and rooted in electromagnetic energy fields of our bodies that we do not yet fully comprehend.  From this perspective the 8th chakra would be the base core to those unexplored regions of our existence.

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Your Garden of Delight


Rose petals on spiral
Black crow in flight
An infinity of wonders
in your garden of delight

The day presses on me like a sieve
Wringing from my soul
all I ever dare to believe
Settling in around me
like shadows on the wall
like bones in the dirt
Sparing nothing, taking all

Curious hummingbirds
Translucent as light
So many wonders
in your garden of delight

The years crawl on like clockwork
of some massive cosmic dial
With every turn of the season
our souls are put on trial
It trudges on, old time
but sometimes twists and spins
And at the drop of a dime
you’re back at the beginning

Voices in the breeze
Eagle on flight
The wonders are endless
in your garden of delight

How could we know
as we pass through the ages
what awaits us on the back side
of the calender pages?
Just keep on keepin’ on
I hope I’ve got what it takes
to face up to what I’ve done
to admit to my mistakes

Invisible creatures
Crimson colored light
The wonders never cease
in your garden of delight

The day spills into darkness
Night to day, then back to eve
This is what will happen
no matter what I dare believe
Strange boo, this law of physics
and the reforming law of time
Ruthless and unyielding
Yet absolutely so sublime

Flowers from heaven
All hearts in flight
Stars fall from the shadow
Sun shines at night

Love rules in your garden
The only constant thing, alright
I am the rarest wonder
in your garden of delight

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