cat with herb

On the front step
Watching the orange cat
Chewing… Biting really
The herb growing by the sidewalk
Tiny blue blossoms
I don’t know… maybe it’s catnip
I thought, “this‘d make a good poem”
But it wasn’t dirty enough or something
Because honestly, in my hand,
Was a device tuned to a digital book about behavioral triggers
Orange cat out in nature staring with tail extendedBecause maybe someday I want to make something
More of my life than impulsively scribbling down
These dirty scraps of noticing…
Not even insights… Just saw a cat, big deal
But he was so mad at this herb
Maybe it wasn’t catnip
And a real poet would be reading a book on native herbs
Then of course the cat noticed me
And stared at me hard like… I really can’t say
As if it wanted me to turn into a big pizza
Or a live tuna fish
He even took a few steps towards me
And let out a miserable squawk
But I wasn’t feeling it
maybe I was being cat like
He gave up and walked away

the bar

we humans   scurry…
from commodity to place
to consume & waste
& develop             more desire
then repeat the cycle / then repeat the cycle
for the next / for the next
ice cream bar     whiskey bar
beyond the bar
to a place
of seeing

the desire arise
slowing the film
even deeper
but not
“biting the hook”



(march 2017 santa rosa)

what now?

what now? the pain
the people
have dispersed
all lights out
for the night
i run absurd
dreams through the streets
get surrounded
i disappear
confused horrified

(march 2017 sonoma county)

not important

body of man in suit taking iphone selfie in mirror

	once we were big shots
inventing the net
	were important people
		in the edge
cracks		me  up		ha ha
	ha how 	much   has changed
don’t even 	recognize myself
	on market street
but	i still have 	that suit
Old Man Looking at Painting of House

So This Is (The Future)

The door opens onto the highway
which lay there missing the moon
like a ribbon without a present
or a string without a ballon

This morning offers no schedule
coffee doesn’t mind getting cold
a bag full of nothing thinks lonely is something
and that nothing… is getting old

* So this is the future
where the past wear’s a digital mask
and all my answers don’t seem that important anymore
and my questions don’t need to be asked

The war isn’t fought in the papers
and blood doesn’t run down the wires
and the piles of limbs they don’t get to him
because our president is a liar

* So this is the future
where the past wear’s a digital mask
and all my answers don’t seem that important anymore
and my questions don’t need to be asked


D7 C7 G7
D7 C7 G7
D7 C7 G7
C7 A7

Recording Notes

Probably 2005. In Venice Beach, California. Apartment on Pacific across from the Post Office.
This might have been recorded on a Sony Mini-Disc with a Sony Stereo Mic. I don’t know what guitar I was playing in those days… Acoustic something.

Mystery Sound #108

Outside my window
I hear mysteriously
a small chirp-like sound
repetitive and device-like.
My first thought is danger!
(These are fraught times.)
Is it a gas leak? Or a tree branch cracking off?
Or an electrical transformer
on the pole across the street
about to explode?
So I open the blinds
cautiously and… nothing.
The scene outside is placid.
The tree quietly intact.
The transformer hangs, solid.
The air, clear, smells like fall.
Across the sky I see
different kinds of birds
flying in various directions,
or landing, or merely
hopping about pecking the ground.
I see bees buzz
bouncing among the blossoms…
The sound is gone.
But the mystery seems to have expanded
beyond me and even my environment,
expanded to the point
of no point.


What You Left Behind

Words and Music by Willi Brown ©2008

Some people think they know ya / or they got a film to show ya
While I pretend intelligence is bliss
But there’s blood that you’ve paid / Stone commitments that you’ve made
They cannot be stolen by an outlaw kiss

And what you’ve left behind / could be put out of your mind
Because it isn’t happening right now
What’s been put out of your mind,What’s been put out of your mind is your soul now
It’s all… you’ve left behind

And the weight of present past seems to be breaking your back
But something else has put a fire in your eyes
And the weightless little girl who once floated around the world
Is holding on to dear life as time flies

And what’s been put out of your mind / may be on the front of your mind
Even when it’s not happening anymore

What you’ve left behind / circles back around in time
Like it never ended for you anyhow
What you left behind never ended for you anyhow

Beautiful Blond Sandy Beach Sunlight Behind