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)

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NIGHT SWEATS

June 3, 2018

“I feel my failure intensely
as if it were a vital organ”
– Jim Harrison

.

.

 

It’s more than coincidence how

That “pillow” rhymes with  “shadow”.

If I had to,

& the sense  to know,

I’d set dark dreams aside.

If I lied some, & thought things

As tied up,

I’d fake it some, I’d hope

For another wide enough break,

& more loose rope,

& this broken cup

I hold my spirits up.

.

.

.

ANGUISH/ RENEWAL

June 1, 2018

It’s the quicksand edge of a rain squall

It’s a sick man on the ledge of it all

It’s the shore shifting in a violent fright

In a midnight storm

In a maybe might/

A long winter before the glint and glimmer

of words onto daybreak’s birdsong,

When enough renewal’s  been suffered to,

Enough burning and churning and yearning

has been laboured through

( from 12/06)

 

“Mental anguish always results from the avoidance of legitimate suffering.”
― Stefan Molyneux

16F

May 14, 2018

A windowseat is great

In an all night diner

It was unfair the Airport

Shorted  me  enough

Stuffed me, a long-legged  man

With a long-winded rant

I stifled in my windowseat.

.

My legs were cropped up crinkled

Like the babies sitting next me

Their cries exited and were emitted freely

Some cries  deep inside  deep inside me.

.

I bet one windowseat would be great

In a darkened diner

My inner world would wander

That  eighteen  wheeler

Lots of legroom  not so tight

Roads to walk  upright

 

gone

February 14, 2018

All Paul Simon sang  he

Via new phone science  got me

 

“..half of the time  you’re gone..

but you don’t know where

you don’t know where.”

i  wept  at  work.

.

Yet i got Simic  in his lunch sack/

I got Irish for when i get home

For salve  & for saving him/

More, I have a mate giving me gladness

Across  the  states

I love indirectly  like a madness

alas

November 17, 2017

I say  “shudder to think”  is a gothic cliche’

But at times  all too accurate,

The  strictest  depiction,

When I would  shudder & shake some

As I stood  on my sidewalk  in lieless sun

With what I witness,   with what I thought

alas

 

There’s not  much white light

In the shadows I can cast

 

I SEE MY PRE-DOOM ROOM

July 24, 2017

 

 

I sweat my bed.

I do all  but dread  there,

One hundred undraped  dreamscapes.

I’d replay and replay

Heaven’s elevator tunes on tape.

Is it true  I did

Fluid-loss & exhaustion,

All that turning and tossing?

I sweat my bed.

First thing is shower head to head,

It takes cold water to weigh

This old man awake to stay down,

Away from high ground.

.

I’d  walked  hard

To find my feet,

To find a way unled

In this far town.

Winds of that farthest town

Of hers are zephyrean dread.

 

“You know  it never has been easy

Whether you do or do not resign

Whether you travel the breadth of extremities

Or stick to some straight line…

In the church  they light the candles

And the wax rolls down like tears

There  is the hope and hopelessness

I’ve witnessed all these years.”

-Joni Mitchell, from “Hejira”

.

.

.

STORM  WINDOWS IN SOUTHWEST FLORIDA

.

In this small part of the planet

Nobody  stores  storm  windows,

Though probably,  storms  away  won’t

Muster  much  more  blow

Than in  this  small part of the planet.

.

.

TWO  ALARMS    ( Impatient On  All )

.

Is  or isn’t it odd

that the gods have their own take

on what all gets  the go ahead

and all  just what must wait?

I was brought up to believe in

That  All’s  “seen through”   for some reason./

All would happen  ”as it should”/

But What when intuition warns    it’s  all gone  wrong,

and it’s all  gone wrong all day?

When two alarms should’ve gone off when rising?

When once again you wince & wait on your own way?

 

 

A P OT H E C A R Y

February 18, 2017

 

 

Eli’s call came early

Cold & way too early for a new day

I was awake   unstill I dreamed

His call was a cry

As if it was for him

Insteada the other way

It was up to him

To set that we’d meet at the dimmest

Darkest strobing streetlight

Down under, next to the trestle

When I got there, so was a girl named Angel

She held on to Eli, but could hardly protect him

We all talked abit about how doctors acted, they watched lately

Fact is they were shy to grant old faithful effective cures

But daily, took chances guessing & giving crap

What well-dressed pharmaceutical promotion reps

Offered up in the morning hours

.

“You were once prescribed ho hum valientum”,

Eli teased, “And now Say Please

& I’ll fill your order ’till soon you’ll kill your ill-at-ease”

Angel smiled free of charge, her kind habit,

& I paid all the rest

And ran off like a rabbit.

 

 

SUM RHYME

December 5, 2016

 

 

 

Summing up some/things you can’t count on

Is  dumb.

When the wind whisks debris

Away. To kingdom come

And comes back   to tease.

Where my moon rebuffs  enough

Sunlight  to shake me awake

Until daylight   spoils the spell.

When passion is a ebbed sea,

Then ennui may dwell,

Grave missteps must only step up &

Soon it’s counted. Moonlit debris.