February 24, 2017
Neruda’s “impalpable ash”
In the fray of my own tiny ruins.
“If I touch/ near the fire/
And supports the clearing away all
Makes way to take less blinding steps away
From cave to climax
I’ve come to have left out
Crucial rescue tools
From my matutinal
Lost-combination locked bag of tricks.
In touch information.
(3 yrs back)
February 16, 2017
how Art thou? Do you drink from the deep sink of inspired creations at an art museum, gallery, or maybe a street art fair on a street near you?sometimes?
Do you have something on one of your walls that only you could only fall for?
And, can’t help but stare?
It’s an important thing,dontcha think?
It has been from an early age for me.
I’m told that soon after I found my father who had killed himself (the Hemingway), while all the distraught adults who knew and loved him were off balance with emotional and practical adjustments (like selling the house and moving on)
One forgotten first son had got into several paint cans and expressed quite a colorful statement on the backside of the new house for sale.
I was perched high for me
in a pinepitchtree
and waited out what I did
as I watched our house’s back side
where I painted from all the paint cans
stacked out back. Though very new plans
made us move away from that life.
Daddy had died and left that life.
Somebody and something could only cover
a french girl with hair from the girl in Breathless
was our art teacher that visited
Miss Blue’s 3rd grade class,
and liked my painting so much
she asked if she could take it
for a contest, or a book she was working on.
The blurry greens and blacks,
browns and blues, was a ship deep in a storm.
I never saw it again but
somebody and something could only recover
still, tie me to the mast.
I must get the next good grasp
still, the next limb up
to see some.
December 7, 2016
It’s likely/ It could be
That when Leonard Bernstein,
At his piano bench…
It was very late when he,
In a creative trance,
Had opened an envelope
From a Mr. Stephen Sondheim,
And started to work on
A musical phrasing for
“There’s a place for us”,
He eyedropped a gold teardrop
Into a test tube, & heaven reacted,
& now can make me ache
20,000 late nights after
. (from 2010)
August 9, 2016
of all the lies
in the air
that this liar
is truely unaware of
(is ’truely’ the right word?)
of all the lies
casual and caressing there
the air currents n
(is ’current’ the correct word?)
the stolen ones, emboldened lies
(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)
are all born, arabesque,
of an open pen pumping onto paper,
July 23, 2016
True happiness we are told, consists getting out of oneself, but the point is not only to get out- you must stay out; and to stay out you must have some absorbing errand.”
-Henry James, from “Roderick Hudson”
Let the record show
Too wretched still/ 2 weeks sans coastal sunsets/
To wreath Night’s long door/ I long for
The right time alone & wait &
As I wait/ I’ll eliminate/ obvious suspects
Crowding my space I’ve longed for/
To my credit the thing about editing out
All the non essential/ It’s Everywhere/
A lot easy to pivot w/pen then slice there/
I thot I can stick to plans/
Mic down the music some/ work that blinds slats/
Then I’ll recede that
Loveleaking hand off a needy cat and/
Speaking of love, lean forward & force
A poem to her.
July 10, 2016
“Just be quiet and sit down/The reason is you are drunk/And this is the edge of the roof” -RUMI
“…And be prepared to bleed” -Joni Mitchell, from “I Could Drink A Case Of You”
They spin me ’round one time, two
At three, they scattered then, their laughter
Left with them, leaving me to
To something that may matter
There’s Ibis outside, on my back lawn, my rain.
And I have
To photograph them there,
Then, stage the image at DeviantArt or Flickr,
Where some drummer will steal it
(good eye & hand talent, w/the accent on eye)
Then, those Ibis will be re-staged
On their “releasable” CD cover,
Or maybe on his big bass drum.
Maybe if I was loaded or dumb
I’d upload it to Facebook
So high school “friends” (we kept it mum)
May be bored enough snoops…
They’ll see my birds,
Then back, Away. Poof
I’ll snoop myself/ Craigslist for free
“Missed Connections” is the only place
To see who’ve noticed your face
And wanted you, destinyly.
May 28, 2016
If I were to infer,
To placate all I ought,
I’d see that I’d work words to a cinder,
Hammer raw ore ’till tender,
For all I wrought.
May 16, 2016
There’s often been unfocused fire
Before the rhododendron,
Like off a roadway, on a hot day,
Sure, unfocused fire
Blurring this entire English garden.
Bumble birds and humming bees,
Warm words tumbling, tumbling on great grass.
Late last night it wouldn’t cease;
The dream is in the English sun.
I took cream in my steaming , strong tea.
Virginia, Leonard Woolf I could see
With her lot
Iris Murdoch & John I could see
With her lot
Barrie and Carroll
Knelt on all fours
Playful, cerebral somehow.
I’m thinking, As I burrow my brow
Rough for this pillow
I’ll settle, Right now, Near the shade of that willow
& succumb to cats on a lawn
& three secret facts of tea roses.