F O R G E S

May 1, 2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

There ought better be a beacon
on a pacific coast cliff could be
where hope’s light works with sea horn
where a night light works without warning
It forces & forges  the blackest  fog & forests
There can be a candle
in a window with enough heat
to fire the hearth
to light one lone solitary stone room
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(from 2010)
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.”Writing is nothing more than a guided dream” -Jorge Luis Borges

 

 

If I’d insist on playing the pacifist

(I’m maybe miscast)

I’d resist being all-too-willing

to killing time.

If I would want to resist the persistent praying

For my mercy, for all our mercy,

Inarticulate verses of mercy,

Maybe I’d want to take steps,

I’d want to take things into my own hands,

Maybe I’d want to take on the task

Of yanking my mask off,

Of thinking of thanking

myself more.

Tho’  I’d  heed  less

Jesus

 

“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”

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STORM  WINDOWS IN SOUTHWEST FLORIDA

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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.

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TWO  ALARMS    ( Impatient On  All )

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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?

 

 

RIGHT OFF THE SHADOW

January 4, 2017

Unless  these  kisses

Fortuitous   but for the most part,

Stay imaginary, yet not useless,

Stay  &  not  start.

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I  will  wear  Hope’s

Clandestine  cloaks

& will not fear  openly  for the most part,

Right in defining light/ Right off the shadow

Where  cooly  I  coddle  our  heart.

 

THERE’S FOG

November 27, 2016

 

“Life is short, and Art long; the crisis fleeting; experience perilous, and decision difficult.”  -Hippocrates

.“In the fog you are sheltered against the outside world, face to face with your inner self. Nebulat ergo cogito.” (fog therefore I think) -Umberto Eco

 

 

LOST/JUST

September 15, 2016

 

 

I

For now, awhile, I won’t let you pull me from the wreckage/

But, how you hold my hand, for both of us

Until the jaws of life  arrives/

Tho’ I’m not at a lost of words, I’m lost

In thought / “I’m lost”, I thought,

“And hiding from the hidden costs.”

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         II.  Birdsong
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I’ll dare to speak of sparrows

in shrapnel-filled WW I  battlefield winds,

in sharp scarlet dawns/

They’ll sing to find their kind

if they’ve  lived,

A song will find its way back,

between the  blood & budding daybreak.

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   III.    J U S T
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it could be/ a branch of a tree

perched at a high hill

would have a new bud  just

breaking through/ it would be just for you

and in time  a blossom.  You’d just

lift yr arm up/ and pull it down/ just in time

to drink it through

with yr deepest stealing breath.///

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(from 2009)

 

It’s time again to utter

It’s just possible

I should be able

Not should,  but would

Be  able

To surrender  some.

Surely  if I needed to

I would be able

To  plea;

To tip my big head

Down so that my POV could  no would

Pan down to the gravel

I would be able to fall to

&  plea.

As shooting stars

May or may not show

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&   please  me.

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.                                                  (from 2009)

 

GETHSEMANE

March 25, 2016

 

 

 

There ought better be a beacon
on a pacific coast cliff just for us
where hope’s light works with  sea horn
where a night light works with a warning
there forces & forges  the blackest  fog & forests
There can be a candle
in a window with enough heat
to fire the hearth
to light one lone solitary stone room

 

 

S T R I V E

December 29, 2015

If you’re about bottomed out,

How may you make & design

That   O.K.  sign?

Y’know, the one where you go

Finger & thumb, real dumb, like an O,

If the three remaining members lift

Like three tea sipping members of royalty, as if

Three members’d consider an invite

Out to a bottomed out..not a bit elite…

Stride  away  of  O.K.

PRATTLE’LL

December 19, 2015

It’s eventual  I can’t leave it alone.

I won’t be in want

Of any other worship.

If even I can’t find the words  this evening

This open-thighed surrender

And I  been/  par anticipating/  the bender

That’ll happen/  with hope/  when

Prattle’ll  turn  open-ended  &

Gets to surge to liturgical litanies

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(years & years back) (& still)