Like Neutral Luck

September 15, 2012

Some souls surely cry

“..If it wasn’t for the bad luck..”

Break for a deepbreathe breathy sigh,

“..I’d have no luck at all.”

Look,  My luck is neutral.

It lies like algae

On secluded moon moody ponds.

It doesn’t flow, or creep.  I fell

FadeToBlack asleep on a chair;

My book & pen, and nearly me,  there

On to the floor.

Alone, on knee,  bent,

I’d known I  loved rehoarding

My words, and alphabets–

They’d shifted some,  and had come

To a new sense.

 

Would it likely be by odd luck?

Or meant as, also likely,

Immense?

 

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PETITIONS

September 14, 2012

PETITIONS

“The blind man loves you with his eyes, the deaf man with his music.  The hospital, the battlefield, the torture room, serve you with numberless petitions. On this most ordinary night, so bearable, so plentiful in grave distractions, touch this worthless ink, this work of shame. Inform me from the great height of your beauty.”

-Leonard Cohen, “Petitions” from Death Of A Ladies Man

AMSTERDAM

September 13, 2012

I lost a friend tonight.

The fleshSTOP forever kind of loss.

When he didn’t show up at the job

He went  on & on  about leaving

& Joining his dream;  Free  in Amsterdam.

Friends from that job

Went and found his body.

He’d lived alone in his own woods

Since his wife died.

Yet I knew him to truly enjoy his day.

(He was ahead of me that way)

His own time he’d savor.

Complex gourmet foods he’d prepare for himself.

He’d  savor

Simple fairweather, days & nights, for himself.

Goddamn, he wanted

& Waited on Amsterdam,

.

.

RIP  Dave

NORTHWEST TRILOGY

August 30, 2012

this is retrieved from years ago, it showcases a damn fine vacation, one I am about to repeat, starting tomorrow. I thought I’d reprint it to mark a “time out” sign here. See ya in a coupla weeks.

.

NORTHWEST  TRILOGY

 

I’d say Seattle’s a city that’ll likely

Set you so free that you’ll likely

Be reminded of the high flight where you might just

Find me,  plowing clouds way way above the bird play.

I see Seattle as a solution

Not too much a town to touch down to w/

Warm outstretched arms on a runway

To catch a wretched, falling runaway,

A getaway  on holiday.

.

II.     W A K E

“Guests must remain on the patio”

Insisted the sign in a winded sun.

I read it right there  in my Adirondack chair

On a cliff  so clearly steep.

I feel I might have fallen  deep

Narcoleptically Asleep again, Though surely,

The luringly named

Pacific Ocean below

Drew me here, to it’s  wake up here

This pace  maker  peace

could liven this

.

III

There’s this tree, I took three pictures there.

A tree creatively crooked

& pointing down most of the Oregon coastline.

At least three pictures.

It rather weathervaned  the ocean edge

& pointed, as a staggeringly lovely hag

might with her stick. A crow

lights in her hair, & All of it

blown forward

down the edge.

seattle09 032

 

PROMINENT

August 29, 2012

“Truth  Be  Told…”

Is an old  start to a story

You never heard from Grandpa Gallagher

As he held court

For any ear  near his

Prominent  living room chair & ottoman.

.

Oh, the  OUTSPOKEN!

It’s not been my story  to take inventory/

It’s  I can’t even fake  worry

About what I have, What I would want/

I suppose  I could pose  but I can’t/

It’s  said/

An  unexamined  life

Is  good  as  dead/

I said/

A body afloat, & solid thoughts will float too, y’know/

Lofty thoughts  not  caught  can ride

On all tides  High and low

Dreamy Rhyminder

August 7, 2012

I could close my eyes  now

I would doze off or die, no

But you’d be  surprised  how

Metaphysical  I feel

I’d bet a bicycle  I’d really

Come

To resume my alter ego

As one who wouldn’t falter, who’d use his Get-Go

&  get all his options  cleared for take off.

SOLID THINGS

August 4, 2012

 

 

 

There’s this secret I’ve kept so discreet

From lovers, & brothers, & mothers.

I’ve mis managed to become  so mum

It was only clearer to me

After  self therapy

The  other day,  or another.

.

From  this  encompassing  dream,

I   finally  wanted

All the  solid things  I was sold  to get,

When it’s important  to want one.

.

I   Get

Silk  batik ties, Italian silk shirts,

Mostly-silk  jackets,

Dry cleaned,  & all in the closet.

.

I  Wait For And Get

Too new Peter & P.J., Gabriel and Harvey,

Unheard of, they’re still in their jacket.

Too new Laurie Anderson, Richard Thompson,

Unheard of, they’re still in their jacket.

.

I  Waited  For  &  Get a

Big  Bio book   of Elliott Smith,

and the case is still closed

.

I   Get

New  Yorker’s

Drawings  &  Captions

All of them  (All these years)

Data   on   disc

unplayed  &  unsmiled  to. (sadly)

I   Got

New  Yorker’s

Drawings  & Captions

The Board Game…

.

..

Why  I  With-hold

All  that  pleasure,

I haven’t a clue.

It’s half-like  holding  love

At arm’s length,

& watching it  do

.

 

Commennuique’

August 1, 2012

While you come out and say

You might await some communique’

I might just wait some

To formulate  some take on

Raw data  streaming onto the tarmac

(Surreally As filmstrip spills off a reel)

This all filling files somewhere

There must be plenty

Taking place.

.

Night, when there might have been plenty

Taking place

I escaped unscathed, tho’ scattered

It remains to be seen & heard

If I would make  it matter

It can be  there may be  plenty

Taking place.

 

 

 

She won’t remember when

Without a word we wandered

Dark  collegetown  neighborhoods.

Where were the dogs & cops?  I wondered.

We were thrilled for the night  still.

Still,  there were all the satellites.

And very still, there was that light

In a candlelit  picture  window.

It  gave  a silhouette, a shadow   readying  a bed.

Buffing up a sheet,  she showed us,

Me and my sister Janny,

Her  heartstopping   Beauty;

A silent ballet shadow show  that

We acknowledged

Her  walkstopping   ethereal naked lines,

Then  continued on, still wordless

Then  getting stiller yet.