s t I N K
.
of all the lies
in the air
that this liar
is truly unaware of
(is ’truly’ the right word?)
of all the lies
casual and caressing there
the air currents n
night blooming jasmine
(is ’current’ the correct word?)
My golden ones have come from…
(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)
emboldened lies, all born, I imagine,
from an open pen draining onto pages,
.
from nothing.
.
.
.
I’VE IVORY
.
Shiny gold pen when an old
Shade-off light bulb
(it can be a candle)
Best Klieg-lights this crèche ,
Best showcases this birthplace.
.
On my knees
To lure verities, (surely, scour our trees)
To cure maladies,
Wrest fallacies from unsound foundations,
Whisper one less lonely
Wise, recognizable incantation.
Take this shiny gold pen…!
.
It’s nearby, go forth, go further.
I clear my path,
& Go over…
& I’ve Ivory!
Simba’ s mammoth cemetery!
(they must go in deep)
Precious sunned bones poised on as symbols
Archetexture actually
I take a sacred see of symmetry

 

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S W I N G S

July 11, 2018

“What you gain on the hobby horse,
You lose on the swings”
-Van Morrison, from “Thanks For The Information”
.
.
Before me, befitting my day’s end
I can make sunrise’s spray  a sandstorm
I can take salsa splayed on something cheesy
I can carry time’s weight easy
And that’s a comfort

Before sleep, I’ve always shunned introspection
An unexamined life ain’t worth missing sleep
I can forget my regrets
I downplay the way-unsound passionate
That can sorta be a comfort

.When men & women must contend
That son of man will first extend
A hand to broken men
That’s some comfort
.
In a faraway hometown here
With a faraway feel
This dream is a theatre feature
They some seem to run off track
Reel to reel
.
I’m secure in
It’s recouring

That’s some comfort
.

Inexactly, a drinking priest,
You’d think he, at least & at last,
Classically, might be caught in
(Necessary) tight vises
Of a crisis of faith.
.
Vacuously, I’ll see it’s not
Necessarily true.
Knowing the knowing needs
the slowing some
the clogging some
of logic to help the heart sing through
.
.
.
(for Graham Greene & Tennessee Williams, & their wondrous torturous sermons)
.
.

.

 

 

 

(FROM YEARS & YEARS BACK)

AGAINST DARK

June 30, 2018

Perhaps it’s our cats
but I hear somebody sobbing
I swear
The sun hasn’t risen to rinse things
& I lock the door.
.
I’m steadily still intent on
Instilling something graceful
On all my faces
I’ll force & offer up
Some strong move
Something Nureyev

.

.

.

for Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber

Notably to nobody but me
Sea oats punch up any
Photograph, black & white, or otherwise.
There’s something about their
Well-lit grace in a breeze,
Against infinity.
.
Those sea oats punctuate oil paintings
With strong lines.
Strong lines might serve as titles,
Strong prose might suit me,
“Graceful in the yielding,
Steadfastly stands the beauty.”

.

.

.for Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber

June 21, 2018

“I see today that everyone on earth
wants the answer to the same question
but none has the language to ask it.”

– Jim Harrison

.

.

.

I’ll swear I’ll answer

To some other

Gruesome monster

Than me,

& my gal,

Higher powers,

Et  al

In fact I’ll face up

Soon as the sun’s up

P I E

June 19, 2018

 

“I’m quite tired of beating myself up to write.  I think I’ll start letting the words slip out like a tired child. “Can I have a piece of pie” he asks, and then he’s asleep back on the cusp of the moon.”                                                             ~ Jim Harrison

“It’s important  what I’m doing here”

I whispered in the corner seat

In yr Uberwaaaiting room

When I borrowed a pen

I had intentions one usually would wait on

But couldn’t just wait

.

I used to carry a backpocket pad

To  get it down

When I was a kid

I stole this bit from my 1st herowriter kid

Who I loved that he showed me sacred acts

I could write/

Caress the delicious lips of the Mystic/

And  Awe  All/

That comes of it/

.

.

.

“life is like a stage, I guess

love is stages of undress”

DELIRIUM TREMENDOUS

side effects may include

-absently staring into space (not time)

-walking into walls

-walking through walls

-delusions (the good kind)

-A cute optimism

-serious loss of scepticism, doubt, & Down.

-control issues

-Fact, being better than it seems

-a packed pocketful of dreams

-spells of snow angels

-pretty picturewindows in a bomb shelter

-There’s a bird on a word

-There’s a drunk in a midnight chord

-we all scream.. for vanishing cream

-Alas, Atlas, tonight at least…
-don’t operate heavy machinery

-Blue Skies

SDARK BEAUTY

June 18, 2018

 

“We’ll know as children again all that we are destined to know, that the water is cold and deep, and the sun penetrates only so far.”
– Jim Harrison

.

SDARK   BEAUTY

If you’re tired to talk

If it’s too late for listening

My little time to tell you

But I think I just must tell you both

My dreams were dark   no  darker

Much darker than your bedroom

I’m afraid and I need to tell you

I want to tell you to hug me

And to let me under your blankets.

One morning I saw you and they were off

I stood  and  stared

You were the very best thing I ever saw

Both of you were so good  I cried.

I don’t want to wake you

Just my little time to tell you  both

My dreams were dark  no  darker.

 

 

for mom & daddy

http---americanart.si.edu-images-1979-1979.98.121_1a.jpg

( Rockwell Kent, “The Lovers” 1928 wood engraving on paper)
.
.
.
.
.
.

You can’t write the clear biography
of the aches and pains inside your skull”

~ Harrison from Skull /  Songs of Unreason

.

.

.

Stoicism is a prison

Though I break out

Though I break down

Through the pull of a merciful act

Then I’m old and too weak to hold back

I can imagine a troubled

Panicked angel tangled double;

One cat caught in a grate

A girl unfair in a wheelchair

Nears and dares her balance, her endurance, her tolerance

Strains all of her weight

Shows the pain that she’s used to on her face

Then relief, and they’re both free

She and the cat both refuse to

Cry more,

Like those that might see

“Those bells’ve been ringing now for years, Someday I’ll give it all away,

That’s how you sing Amazing Grace”      -LOW, from “Amazing Grace”

.

.

As specified in final arrangements

The kids could only draw near enough

To temples,  & to what resembles temples,

To take big pictures, big sky country shots,

& pot shots,

For a faraway featuring of folly.

.

.

.

Go down always face  down the hall,

A dawn displays holy sun rays smoke

And on the just rightly out of tune upright bass

My at rest  in peace bare-chested Daddy

Just barely jazzin up most all  of a

New England Protestant hymnal

Ones his mother Grace

Sang through  softly  over & over

Busy with handiwork  as ever

.

.

.

.                                                          rest in peace bare-chested daddy