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verses from the west edge





































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cowboy buddha
_____________

walked the sand
while mount grazed
in clouds
bootless gait
made no trace
on dune
which by the way
was empty of sign
as his old gunbelts
holsters and ammo loops

cowboy buddha
made no sound
smiled silence
to osprey wind
as they shared
a calm and shimmered mirage
images shifted

the winds played
to the four directions
nil notes lifted
slippery quiet
to new heights
of rinzai rodeo
and soto stillness

no spurs or heels
just tickles
for equine ear
breathed a mantra breeze

©2000 jim christ


________________________
cowboy buddha revisited
________________________

wild mustang reality
roams ranges gallops
bucks snorts saddleless
shakes her mane
through shimmering air
that mimics there
the slouching
silhouette shapeshift
of cowboy buddha

he smiles somewhere beneath
clouds white hat
bare feet beyond shoe leather
wiggles into sand as
it moves by
dancing with the tumbleweed
to shadows stretching
and two-stepping away

a mandala spins
from outstretched hand
carrot circles orangered
as toes dig in
remembering boots
years walked on heels
and soles
instead of land

he crooks a finger
twinkles third eye
and whistles silently
a whirlpool tune
"home, home on
the bareback ranges"

©2001 jim christ










between those shadows
______________________

you've become part of my mind,
clicking those keys at me.
you're pouring from my CRT
and into me, and I to you,
back and forth on the waves,
adrift on this tron sea of e.

the tides through this net move with minds,
from shining here to shining there,
riding in on electrons dancing,
through the spam and the scams and
the prancing of shadows that chase us.
from the cliffs of here and there
to the peaks of everywhere.

from this jagged edge of california
to where she dives into atlantic
from your ends of the earth and all the rest
to the clicking of all our fingers,
gray matters connected by screens of light,
beyond all geographics, politics and religions
beyond all divisions - between those shadows

©2000 jim christ

______________

gravity calls
______________


lands in icefall
thoughts in avalanche
when grip on slanted land is lost
surfaces tumble down
from sound or step or slip
the same result
in frozen crashes
between the thaws

there is balance
until to one side
or another
loosed grips expel
down physical
or philosophic slopes
to answer
gravitys call


©2001 jim christ

_______________

levity answers
_______________


consciousness bridges
over any abyss

the only true applause
is laughter that lifts

when gravity calls
it's the retort that rules

in the darkest dull danger
levity answers with jewels


©2001 jim christ






riparian lines (I am a river)
______________________

I never stop going by
yet I never leave.
my dancing changes with seasons
I mirror places, I weave.

I rush up to reflect you
while I slip away.
tomorrow I'm the sea,
I was raindrops yesterday.

I come to you clear emerald,
lazy summer.
I'm rushing jade and turbid,
wild wintertime.

I'm journey, I'm destination,
I'm rhythm, I'm rhyme.
once tall waterfalls of words
now the quiet bottom line.

©2000 jim christ


_____________

golf
_____________


life is a game of golf
drive and chip and putt, all swings,
bound and powered and defined by skill and fate and luck,
into movements causing movements causing movements.
each swing is as unique as any group of words
that leap or fall from any clicking keyboard,
moving mouth or racing pen.

every swing in
the game is precious.

every play is the most important
in the game of journeys through
and to and within the many journeys.
short cuts and scenic tours,
verdant hills and bare dry bunkers,
trimmed fairways stretching off
through rough and tangled edges.
hazards and greens,
alive and waiting for each and every swing.

we all walk or ride from lie to lie,
stop and stand ready to touch and
be touched by moments of truth.

we swing and it soars or rolls away,
and like all the rest,
sent best,
it falls from sight.


©1999 jim christ








































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