Lifted Valentine

They’re laying their eggs everywhere
Just to be sure or just because
They have to follow the law
Laid out for them even some
On the orange nasturtium petals
And the ribbed hibiscus leaves
Eggs that in a mere few weeks
Will be fluttering around the yard
Like them their one idea
Of flowery flight achieved
But what’s to be done
With all this beauty
In a quiet space
If no one comes
To stand with me stunned
In a sea of wings
And be lifted off

Ascending Valentine

While the world files in
The handbasket today’s edition
Of hell my cat and I
Sneeze and lick our lips
Her sneezes and licks are lady-like
While mine are huge explosions
With unknown implications
For this Feast of the Ascension
May you ascend but not too far
I say to my love
Don’t go too far
Outside my grasp
Or we are lost
Though even then
We’ll still be one

Hopeful Valentine

I hope your day is going gladly
I hope your day is being
Given away a little madly
A little profligately
That you’re not worried about time
I hope you’re stumbling
Over it a little your day
Wondering where you left it
It must be here somewhere
Noticing a little sadly
Where it was last seen
The light along the shore-line
Finding it again before it’s over
And your night comes on naked
As a lover over the water

Worshipful Valentine

Up to a certain point in time
We are still being managed
By the gods but then a life
Of its own starts up inside
A clearly distinguishable creature
The gods are always amazed
At what they’ve made
Releasing us into the wild
And we who have lost
All clear knowledge of them
Go on our free and lonely way
Trying to replicate their instructions
The problem is a god
Can be anything it wants
And we are left to decide
Which ones we'll worship

Thinking Valentine

You don’t have to say
What you can imply
There are a hundred reasons
You can’t say why
It’s so difficult to say
If you put your feet to the fire
Mumble under torture
The names of all your sources
Or you can be silent
As the blows rain down
Thinking if there is something
More important than our lives
Then to hell with our lives
Or tell the devil what
He doesn’t want to hear
Or live in fear

Excessive Valentine

I like how my cat
Isn’t too proud
To lick my feet
Nor I too proud
To let her
Pay homage
To my greatness
In her eyes
She happily bends the knee
And knows what it is
To have ideals
While preserving the real
Affection for things
And throws herself into it
What would her life be
Without someone to emulate
Or even exceed

Voyager’s Valentine

If you are struggling now
In the caves of the underworld
Or have come upon a prairie
Where you can sit and brood
Back over our lives together
Keep going until you find
The path I made in the woods
This time it will take you
To the shore of a great sea
Where a boat with sails is stowed
A sextant and provisions
For the long crossing
With its storms and calms
Its shattering dawns
To where my heart is waiting

Climate Change Valentine

So it comes down to one dandelion
And one small giraffe
Made out of a whirling cloud
This last California day
To make it to Arizona
At the end of May this year
So the desert recovered
Flooded with color
Almost balmy with so many
Perfumes from earlier rains
In Arizona we remember California
We put down our harps
And weep for the heat
We know is coming
The oppressive extinguishing
Of all those flowers
Their seas retreating
Into summer’s fires

Her Valentine

Her last word was OK
Her first word was No
While shaking her head Yes
She wanted both options
To be absolute in the end
She spoke freely about it
To anyone who would listen
But never argued with nature
Whether it was mortal or immortal
If it made good sense
Always the aspiring scientist
Of wonder and reverence
For people and happening things
Whose refusal was final
And whose affirmation was complete

Royal Valentine

In my proud pomegranate tree
Resides a humble bumblebee
Enthroned intoning stories
Of his future glories
How did I get so hoary
Some might say horny
Despite his solemn procession
Through the air every morning
So intent on drawing
A line between plebian us
And majestic him we fall
Into a mindless state
And stand to watch him pass
Carrying our fate

Builders Valentine

All day the pounding of nails
And the hammering of concrete
It rained last night but I didn’t hear a thing
The darkness of the will
Embedded in matter
Is being broken up and reassembled
By the thoughts of the timbers
Eased into place around windows
And doors open to the future
At ten a swallowtail appeared inside
Causing the workers to stop and stare
Everything went quiet foolish
As if asking for a moment
Who could build a house
Of wings like these

More Valentine

They’re loading it up
It’s garbage day tomorrow
What can I contribute
They’re gutting the house
Where the old lady died
And adding a new garage
And slowly over the coming weeks
They’ll add new everything
Even a young couple and baby
With another on the way
The old lady was a hoarder
Every room piled high
But had the quickest smile
When I would catch her Saturdays
Heading off for more

Come Morning Valentine

Come morning I invite the visitation
Of my out-of-body friends
And other spirits who drop by
Tidying up the mayhem
Of last night’s dreams
While I just sit here sipping coffee
They tell me how they worked all night
Excavating my ruined soul
Every so often scraping off
Some still-intact antiquity
Or should I say iniquity
Neither excited nor amused
Together we survey the progress
Of my several bodies
The mountain cities of my brain
My heart’s defenseless plain

Things Never To Be Forgotten

And my daughter’s smile
Like a fine trout breaching
When any old smile won’t do
Her at six and me on the sofa
Holding hands listening to snow
Falling for days it seemed
And that spring morning I drove
The curving greening woods
From Florence to Ravenna
But that was with another woman
I couldn’t love enough
But once you start down that road
Of memory there’s no end
It goes on and on trying
To measure up to the future
And just there at the center
The little hinge on which we swing

Always With You Valentine

The aristocracy still heartily laughs
In the faces of democracy’s youth
When all things are hierarchical
It’s one of the proofs of God
But I’m a sanguine man
My melancholia is too phlegmatic
For me to be choleric long
It comes in bursts of self-defense
When I have nothing to defend
But go on singing
My denials of your being
I was always rich and poor
And seldom wanted for less or more
But I fear for the rich souls
As much as those who have nothing
Among the traps we set for ourselves
I feel these are the worst by far

For Her New Birthday

I suppose what we loved most about her
And will continue to admire and enjoy
When we think of her as we will
Is how much she loved the real
Physical world of people and faces
Almost equally with the bodies of trees
Or the intimate geography of a shore-line
A particular cast of light in the sky
Which you hadn’t noticed
She had a hawk’s eye
For little things especially
Children and small carved objects
Turtles and pelicans and going
On adventures to find horses
Or the sheer joy of hitting a ball
She knew how to pay attention
To the moment when she found
Something important happening in you
Whether it was laughter or pain
How she loved to be busy but
Would watch tennis for hours on TV
How she stood for womanhood
In a manly way without shame
How she wanted everyone
To gather around a camp-fire
She was so happy to tend and sing

Walking Valentine

Sunday morning high on earth
The smell of incense and donuts
Repentance and celebration
Imagine Emerson at the feast
Sitting next to Plotinus
Or better a picnic with loaves
And fishes to be so satisfied
Nourished and released
From the body for while
The acceptance of so many things
That won’t be done in heaven
Until they’re done on earth
Long walks through fields
Of rosemary and mint
Still hungry as bears

Promised Valentine

The butterfly lands on the prayer-flag
Slowly blowing back and forth
Catching its breath
With a few days left to live
What else does it have to do
It's a Saturday and I too
Am having my second coffee
And I admit it
My second cigarette
Blowing smoke
In the eyes of mortality
Which wouldn't be happening at all
If you were here
If you had kept your promise
Not to die

Rescued Valentine

Things like this can't happen
to seeds and not to us
To birds and not to us
Though part of them is not natural
At all or part of this world
Flowers among rocks
As though they were separate things
That weren't supposed to happen
The surprise of beauty
Tossed in as an afterthought
Like whales breaching
Beside our tiny boat
On the lost sea that day
And night my hand
Trembles as I write
How could a rescue come
And not to us

Last Valentine

Though you are in glory now
I still visit your grave
Among the graves above the bay
The flowering sculpture garden
Where it’s always spring about
To happen and the stones lean out
As if taking their first steps
After all it was death
That inspired architecture
The stones rolled away
Revealing a little room
And the idea of a dome
Was born in the ravaged body
I come to guard above the waves
And though I feel you everywhere
This was the last place you were seen

Something Valentine

Or maybe it’s just something
That makes me want to remember
I am a made-up thing
Of uncertain origin
And questionable sources
That I just keep appearing
In one place or another
Pacing back and forth
Between this world and the next
Working to placate my confusion
With alternating sorrow and joy
That I am someone’s gift
For loneliness and love
The highest treasure
Of some god above

Walpurgis Nacht Valentine

Staring is much encouraged
In the darkened theatre but
Discourteous in the street
Yet our eyes meet and hold
Audience and actor
One basking in the stare
Of the other retreating in respect
Of valorous conduct
On the field of battle
Or some such plot
Does the actor have a moment
When he also understands he can’t
Go back on his amazement
At having lost his soul
Which brings the audience to its feet