We are living in a world where dreams are the compass and poetry points the way. We are close to the edge and we are close to a shift favoring real change. Some will step over the edge and some will pave the way for revolutionary change. What an amazing time this is.

::::::::

Now all I seem to be able to do is write strange
Poems Even eating is like

Isn't there a better way to get nourishment
Even sleeping

It's like hauling my ass dream to dream
It's like Where is this? Who are you?

Knock knock Who's there? It's nobody again
The door is a hole under the pepper bush

How did you make it knock? See what I mean?
This is all beyond me

I live in a hole at the corner of the garden
I live way down deep in a nest of leaves

I'm like McKibben on a bad day Are we worth saving?
Figure it out for yourself Are you worth it?

The door is on the south side
Are you coming in or what?

Do you want to talk? Do you want to borrow something?
A cup of something?

A manifesto? A reason for drawing the line?
Do you have a purpose?

Do you still go by your birth name?
Or your rebirth name?

Will you do me a favor? Will you let me name you?
Do you want to compare fears?

Do you like your manifesto? Do you like where you are standing?
Would you like to sit? Lie down?

Now that you are standing there I
Can barely see you I'm being honest

What color are you? What are you wearing? What
Are you thinking? What is your next demand?

I might not be the best person for you right now
I think you want a different poet

I can't thank you enough for coming I can't
Thank you enough for leaving

I'm going to dig a little deeper now and curl up
I need to dream out loud where nobody can hear me

I'm a badger, an old goat, a burned out pipe welder
I'm a poet I'm a dowser I'm a martyr

I'm an activist A complainer I'm a lawn mower
An anxious white progressive A safety match

I'm a medicine keeper I'm a spider A misshapen book
A slingshot A liar A coward A lost kitten

A bird with a broken wing A broken record
I'm sick of being right I'm sick of being sick

Of being right or wrong but I like talking to the sun
I like making stir-fries I like my seasoning chart

(With broccoli you can add caraway and dill
With Swiss chard marjoram and parsley)

I love the smell of onion cooking
But don't get too comfortable

Find your own rabbit hole Keep going until
You see the light Change the ring tone on your phone

To outstretched hand Night-blooming cactus
Clothespins at rest Trembling eyelid

Sinking feeling Cicada rhapsody
Leave a brief message I'll get back to you

Authors Website: https://garylindorff.wordpress.com

Authors Bio:

Gary Lindorff is a poet, writer, blogger and author of five nonfiction books, three collections of poetry, "Children to the Mountain", "The Last recurrent Dream" (Two Plum Press), "Conversations with Poetry (coauthored with Tom Cowan), and a memoir, "Finding Myself in Time: Facing the Music". Lindorff calls himself an activist poet, channeling his activism through poetic voice. He also writes with other voices in other poetic styles: ecstatic, experimental and performance and a new genre, sand-blasted poems where he randomly picks sentence fragments from books drawn from his library, lists them, divides them into stanzas and looks for patterns. Sand-blasted poems are meant to be performed aloud with musical accompaniment.


He is a practicing dream worker(with a strong, Jungian background) and a shamanic practitioner. His shamanic work is continually deepening his partnership with the land. This work can assume many forms, solo and communal, among them: prayer, vision questing, ritual sweating, and sharing stories by the fire. He is a born-pacifist and attempts to walk the path of non-violence believing that no war is necessary or inevitable.