Just Now

Be here now, Ram Das said.

My license plate holder reads:  “I’d Rather Be Here Now.”

John Muir said to saunter.

Sometimes when I am so in that moment, in the now-ness of it all, that there is only a slash of sunshine and deep woods, I forget to take pictures, photo potential in my pocket, the convenience of a cell phone and not the heavy long lens that hung around my neck for years.

Thus today, a stellar day, a collection of now, as I walked a kinko through Whatcom Falls Park as part of the Haiku Society of America Northwest Regional gathering.  The joy of seeing old friends, of being with poets with nutmeg cookies in the sky words, leaving me wordless and smiling.  I am so blessed by those I know.

Thank you all.



Resister or Resistor?

Words and spelling catch my eye.  What am I?  What words do I use to express current feelings and explorations?  I see the word “resistor” on social media and it looks wrong.  I went to several dictionaries.


noun, Electricity.
1.  a device designed to introduce resistance into an electric circuit.


listed as the noun for “resist.”
1. to strive to fend off or offset the actions, effects or force of
2.  to remain firm against the actions, effects of for of; withstand
3.  to keep keep from giving in to or enjoying; to offer resistance.  synonym:  oppose


What are you?

Soul of the Northwest

BigLeaf maple


Big leaf maple,  Acer macrophyllum,

leaves shine sugar coated.

Alive in a hundred shades of green,

I am the Northwest, soul of the planet.

Catch a raindrop.

Tip your chin up.

Drink sky water.

Splash into the lake.

Mystery lies in downward clouds.

Wait for the midnight owl.

C.J. Prince

Copyright 2016


Postcard to Unknown Friend



Dear Stranger Poet,

Or is it Poet Stranger?

How goes it?  Stuck

on words?  I am

leaf green

and sometimes blue.

I need sleep,

not nightmares.

I spend my time

trying to write to you.

Hope you are roaming

the alphabet.

Don’t  forget my address.

Things are fragmented.

This place is summer,

rock hot and moon cool.

Hope to see you

in the dictionary.

Yours till you catch peace

and call me.

C.J. Prince


Snowden’s Lament





When the laptop sleeps,

deep as Loch Ness,

rainbows, truth and corruption

hum beneath the surface

like an ocean.  Does it grab

my meridians through

that cyclops eye?

Dilemma of being known, exposed

or hiding in a non-digital forest

speaking poetry to owls.

C.J. Prince