Freedom Cafe


Two AM

It was just me and Tony, a couple of fools,

having a good time-

night time summer time, New York time,



between the flowers and the Big Plan

heading for the Freedom Cafe.


Then there's Tony, jumping up on the bridge 



above the abyss.

Just another game

before we go

                to play the band.


His flesh is shining in the

soft bruised heat and

when he turns grinning, and loses footing, 

His eyes give up a piece of light 

to mine before

he leaps out of the ocean of his brain.

His shadow like a dark fish, floating 


past the neon sign, past the neuropathways

flashing " Freedom Cafe.


He is let go


Cut away 

from the old man

He had been waiting 

to become.


He sinks fast, time rewinding in the pit of

His belly.

Lowers himself into

some other realm,

where there is 

      no river

      no sidewalk still holding the sun

      no heartbeat in its warm cage

      no sound no summer

      no people passing by, laughing,

      no garbage or city dogs sniffing the decay


 No music from the Freedom Cafe.


I scream Tony Tony

flying like an angel

towards the waters


past the dumb dark pines

whose scaley cones are

blown out like

dead Christmas lights.


And he is a planet

careening between the dark and the light .


And I am a ghost on fire, screaming 

Tony Tony as he falls

        into the mud

beside the luminous stream.


Two AM

In her sleep, his woman

 whimpers Tony



Deeper into the dream

Her sex aching like a swollen river

She turns away from him




And into her old womb, the sleeping Mother

gathers back again the bones

of her broken son.

Buries him into her mud.



Holy little drum

Precious ventricles of truth
Radiant rainbow of ever 
pounding meat
Teach me well your way
of knowing soul.
Speak of sorrow too,
of blood spent
and of love.
At the last beat of your drum
The ancestors will pause in that silence
And then wait.

I'm Leavin' as the Crow Flies

I'm leavin'  as the crow flies
If only in my brain
Tired of my old lies
Just tryin to keep me sane.

Well the sun is hot
and the wind is cool
underneath my wings

And I wont feel alone 
for leavin' home
as long as I can sing.


Singin' fly away old crow
You know somethin' I dont know.
Bring me back some shiny thing
An old beer can or a diamond ring
Something bright to make me sing
And liberate my soul.

( caw caw 
old crow)



Women of Creation

In the beginning
out of the silence
we stepped down, carrying in our feet
the dances of the stars
hair aflame with a 
thousand suns.

On the first day
in green stockings 
I wade through the long wet grasses
of riverbottoms.
I gather
night dreams 
into the moons reflected bowl
My black body makes 
the earth move
the heart beat
the trees breathe. I leave colours
in my foot prints as I dance.
My golden feet unbound at last, 
 in dreams-
 I am
the lunar moth
dance wild my hearts true name
around and round the flame.
I dance in leather feet
- dance in the way of women
- firm upon the earth 
I leave my path 
fresh, unbruised
for those that follow.

Mothers of Creation
Down through time
we have carried our dream- bowls
filled with light.



A bright patch kneeling 
on yellow sand
-the skys blue skirt flung across the day-
she paints with pieces of the desert
a religion of red, of blue and gold.
Shapes for praying,
Patterns to surprise passing crows.
Dignity of simple shapes repeated over time.


23rd Psalm - a derivation

Come down, angels, Divinity
Let me drown in your alien seas
If drown I must, to be with thee.

Upon thy shores then broken tossed
to rest my green heart 
Upon my Mothers earthen breast
Until the storms of this life pass
- become a distant hum,

And into your great AUM
                  broken come
and in your stilĺ waters
Am restored.

Down alleyways I've stumbled
where false lights glare
And men stare.
Anoint my body
Mother Divine
And lift me out of shame
And with Thy will
My strengthened spine, proud chin to thy
Compassionate Visage lift.

Then Brother Death 
My old familiar friend
Can take my hand 
And from this field of flowers
Down through that lonesome valley
My life end.


Poem to a Spirit Being Born into Flesh 

Little Spirit
Do you remember when you first
came into this world 
Through my dark bloody waters?
How long did you wait before you
 stepped inside this shrieking living meat?

While we waited for you did you breathe with
the winds through the trees green lungs?

Was it you who, in a dream
sang for me your true name
While the world awakened into dawn?

We love you 
And have been waiting for you
looking for news from Home.