Waiting for the white pigeon--
Suddenly you're the old man
In the corner booth
The type you looked at
When you were young
The world is tilting
You're dizzy when you punch
Fear of fear
Despairing at despair
Ensnared in the black magic
Of the mind
Shocked at seeing how deep it goes
Like the face of Michelangelo's
Doomed man
Stunned with one hand covering an eye
Betokening the abyss
Then seeing your face in the mirror
Of the corner booth
Recoiling, praying,
Alone, waiting for the bird
To descend

Night, the cover of sin
The birth of treachery and deceit
The deep space of the universe
The flavor of a lover's lies
The instigator of dreams
The womb of nightmares
The time of the bat and owl
The sleep of doves
The congregation of whores
The mystery with a hidden name
The realm of spirits
The attitude of negation
The escape into sleep
The void of nothingness

Up on Cold Mountain (after Han Shan)

The narrow road
To the snow peak
Harder with each step
The chill in the wind
Slowing you
Birds taking to the sky
At the sound of your approach
Alone, not even a monkey
To give you brief company

Time has no power in dreams
In the pool just below the surface
The past is present
You are young again
With those long gone
Though not gone
But waiting below
Ready to emerge

Something snub nosed

Intrudes itself

Like the face

Of a bat

Circling the head

Of a dreamer

It is silent, hovering

At the edge of sleep,

Fostering illusions 

Mantis Religiosa

It is hidden
Green on green
Morphed into a leaf
Concealing its alien shape
The triangular head
That can rotate
Up and down
Its attitude of praying
While preying on
The unsuspecting
Its enormous eyes
All encompassing
Even if desire
Makes it lose its head
It presses on
With the work it must do
Seizing with its rapid hooks
And claws
It's not there till you see it
If you do

A tooth fell out
And the clouds
Rolled with thunder
You dreamed of tilting streets
And old buildings
With dark windows
And saw the ancient park
Its tortuous path
Winding into night