Here then, now, still I see the reds,
russets and golds that once piqued Keats
to pen a tribute, from this bed
the colors flame up and repeat
the annual autumn's protest
towards summer's unfailing retreat.
I see the rising and falling
much like those in the Lake District,
And imagine Keats once walking
there and my own regal prospect
here and think us timeless beings
with our visions now intersect'd.
Beauty swells and undulates so-
a mottled colored weaving of
local vegetation that grows
and covers the mountain as though
expression of a blushing love-
All the landscape is overflowed
with Autumn's singular trove.
Asheville, NC
October 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Birthright
Such beauty produces such
a pleasurable lethargy in me.
Perhaps it is the schism
between the time I have
and the eons yet to be.
Everything in the natural world
testifies to the long history
of everything.
The natural world is every
person's birthright.
Too often squandered or
too cheaply sold.
We must break from
all the crucifying dogmas.
Every child should know the
Milky Way.
The land belongs to no one-
but is the inheritance of everyone.
I know I must leave here-
May this beauty continue
to sustain my soul.
October 2010
a pleasurable lethargy in me.
Perhaps it is the schism
between the time I have
and the eons yet to be.
Everything in the natural world
testifies to the long history
of everything.
The natural world is every
person's birthright.
Too often squandered or
too cheaply sold.
We must break from
all the crucifying dogmas.
Every child should know the
Milky Way.
The land belongs to no one-
but is the inheritance of everyone.
I know I must leave here-
May this beauty continue
to sustain my soul.
October 2010
Poem
Free me.
Pull me into forever
and always
in every direction.
Stretch me taut as the sky.
I want to peek
behind all of this
that is seen.
October 2010
Pull me into forever
and always
in every direction.
Stretch me taut as the sky.
I want to peek
behind all of this
that is seen.
October 2010
Mabel's View
What Mabel wrote is true
the land is so real that
people do seem trivial and false.
The light is everywhere--
great swaths of it over everything
but where the clouds create
shadows on the mountains.
The land rises and falls
and is dotted with junipers.
Today there is wind
and the large magpies
glide effortlessly on the currents.
Their large shadows move
across the grasses then in the room,
up the bed and then are gone.
It is marvelous to watch them soar.
My spirit sails with them.
Yes, people seem so trivial and false.
October 2010
the land is so real that
people do seem trivial and false.
The light is everywhere--
great swaths of it over everything
but where the clouds create
shadows on the mountains.
The land rises and falls
and is dotted with junipers.
Today there is wind
and the large magpies
glide effortlessly on the currents.
Their large shadows move
across the grasses then in the room,
up the bed and then are gone.
It is marvelous to watch them soar.
My spirit sails with them.
Yes, people seem so trivial and false.
October 2010
Wabi Sabi
At first the Rolls Royce
seems out of place here
particularly when in stark contrast
with the Pueblo village
of Galisteo we are touring.
But after a visit to his studio
where you see the lucid paintings
and the lush photographs
then you rightly understand
That the person who sees
and creates such beauty
deserves all the jaunts
in the Silver Cloud he wants.
For Forrest Moses
October 2010
seems out of place here
particularly when in stark contrast
with the Pueblo village
of Galisteo we are touring.
But after a visit to his studio
where you see the lucid paintings
and the lush photographs
then you rightly understand
That the person who sees
and creates such beauty
deserves all the jaunts
in the Silver Cloud he wants.
For Forrest Moses
October 2010
Taint Removal
You could imagine the natural
beauty still there underneath
all the layers of taint.
Taint removal is not such
an involved and complicated process
as he had anticipated-
Needed first was a place of Beauty
where the soul could be expansive
and remember the beginning.
Second was a great Stillness
where you could hear
your soul's secret language.
Miraculously the layers of taint
peel away, slowly and completely-
until That what always Is
is brilliantly seen and the
song of the Universe is heard
And the diamond underneath the
hard crust of Myth and Culture
appears.
October, 2010
beauty still there underneath
all the layers of taint.
Taint removal is not such
an involved and complicated process
as he had anticipated-
Needed first was a place of Beauty
where the soul could be expansive
and remember the beginning.
Second was a great Stillness
where you could hear
your soul's secret language.
Miraculously the layers of taint
peel away, slowly and completely-
until That what always Is
is brilliantly seen and the
song of the Universe is heard
And the diamond underneath the
hard crust of Myth and Culture
appears.
October, 2010
Cerillos
Here the eye is overwhelmed
by all there is to see,
something between the
vista and the light,
the rise and fall of the land
the sparse lushness of the vegetation-
Between the hummingbird
and the blue pinon jay-
the jack rabbits and the coyotes-
my soul responds harmoniously
with the connectivity of everything.
The fly traversing my thumb
and the spider in the ceiling's corner,
the rocks and bone beneath my feet-
streaking meteors--the Milky Way
And then the awareness of
all of the unseen, yet sensed.
Here, I am with everything.
October 2010
by all there is to see,
something between the
vista and the light,
the rise and fall of the land
the sparse lushness of the vegetation-
Between the hummingbird
and the blue pinon jay-
the jack rabbits and the coyotes-
my soul responds harmoniously
with the connectivity of everything.
The fly traversing my thumb
and the spider in the ceiling's corner,
the rocks and bone beneath my feet-
streaking meteors--the Milky Way
And then the awareness of
all of the unseen, yet sensed.
Here, I am with everything.
October 2010
Always
Always-
there is the emerging
and the vanishing
with the overlapping
occurring continuously.
Always-
there has been something
and so much is ephemera
and we the brief witnesses
grasp and can not hold.
Always-
the conundrums
the paradoxes
the enigmas
and the prayers.
Always-
the sate of wonder
the state of bafflement
the state of profundity
act of love.
October 7, 2010
there is the emerging
and the vanishing
with the overlapping
occurring continuously.
Always-
there has been something
and so much is ephemera
and we the brief witnesses
grasp and can not hold.
Always-
the conundrums
the paradoxes
the enigmas
and the prayers.
Always-
the sate of wonder
the state of bafflement
the state of profundity
act of love.
October 7, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A Beattitude
Bless those who persecute in the name of righteousness
and understand the nature of their blindness,
a fearful striking out in the dark,
loneliness panicking.
And fill with compassion
those chambers of your heart
that first with anger would overflow
and overwhelm,
overcome
with love
and if be,
be struck down
tall and proud
full of God.
April 1991
and understand the nature of their blindness,
a fearful striking out in the dark,
loneliness panicking.
And fill with compassion
those chambers of your heart
that first with anger would overflow
and overwhelm,
overcome
with love
and if be,
be struck down
tall and proud
full of God.
April 1991
Queer Death
I dream of a day
when "they" are the minority
and most people
unreserved accept
our inalienable right to love.
A queer,
beaten to death
April first.
nineteen ninety-one.
No joke--
by four young thugs
full of fear
and ignorance.
May all rest in peace.
April 1991
when "they" are the minority
and most people
unreserved accept
our inalienable right to love.
A queer,
beaten to death
April first.
nineteen ninety-one.
No joke--
by four young thugs
full of fear
and ignorance.
May all rest in peace.
April 1991
In Cadiz
In Cadiz
we walked the street
that the guide book
called homosexual,
but only saw
dim lit rooms
with makeshift curtains
over doors
pulled back
revealing
fat whores
splayed.
Vulvae
that shocked us
and made me
think of my birth,
bloody and viscous,
and sailors
emptying into them,
the whores
and how
possessive I was
with your cock.
Mine.
All in all
disappointing
that dark forage,
until later
when we sat
on the wall
of the old battlement
and watched
the two young men
swimming naked.
A gift--
from our gods.
Moorish domed
thick turrets,
even with you
or especially,
I was Querelled
and itched
compulsively
with mad dog foaming
and hungrily
checked out
all the
mysteries.
You went for a drink
and I went upstairs
to the top floor.
A singular bed,
small window.
Moonlight
stretched
across my
naked body.
Releasing,
I ached
for you.
In the morning
you departed
for a medieval village
and I reclaimed
my being
and later
under Orion
hunted the street
the guide book
called homosexual,
Unfulfilled,
Anxious.
August 1987
we walked the street
that the guide book
called homosexual,
but only saw
dim lit rooms
with makeshift curtains
over doors
pulled back
revealing
fat whores
splayed.
Vulvae
that shocked us
and made me
think of my birth,
bloody and viscous,
and sailors
emptying into them,
the whores
and how
possessive I was
with your cock.
Mine.
All in all
disappointing
that dark forage,
until later
when we sat
on the wall
of the old battlement
and watched
the two young men
swimming naked.
A gift--
from our gods.
Moorish domed
thick turrets,
even with you
or especially,
I was Querelled
and itched
compulsively
with mad dog foaming
and hungrily
checked out
all the
mysteries.
You went for a drink
and I went upstairs
to the top floor.
A singular bed,
small window.
Moonlight
stretched
across my
naked body.
Releasing,
I ached
for you.
In the morning
you departed
for a medieval village
and I reclaimed
my being
and later
under Orion
hunted the street
the guide book
called homosexual,
Unfulfilled,
Anxious.
August 1987
The Fortunate
Blake's glad day older.
Is it in greater time's nature?
Recall the zest full youth
But do not praise him overmuch
else marvelous that may yet present
and eclipse glory's zenith
so that the grandest vision is enfeebled
our loudest "ah" multiplied.
This maturer appearance
seems made of less splendor
seems a less radiant shimmer,
But how solid and reliable, powerful
forces forged this figment,
this idiot's tale full of sound and fury
makes sense only to the experiencer
and so we stop reaching out
of ambition and quietly resolve
that all is as it should be
and the youthful frenetic motion
has now found full command in stillness.
More still, yet,
the wise old man hears in the silence
Creation's' triumph.
Nature applauds as he dying, smiles.
Thursday before Good Friday 1995
Is it in greater time's nature?
Recall the zest full youth
But do not praise him overmuch
else marvelous that may yet present
and eclipse glory's zenith
so that the grandest vision is enfeebled
our loudest "ah" multiplied.
This maturer appearance
seems made of less splendor
seems a less radiant shimmer,
But how solid and reliable, powerful
forces forged this figment,
this idiot's tale full of sound and fury
makes sense only to the experiencer
and so we stop reaching out
of ambition and quietly resolve
that all is as it should be
and the youthful frenetic motion
has now found full command in stillness.
More still, yet,
the wise old man hears in the silence
Creation's' triumph.
Nature applauds as he dying, smiles.
Thursday before Good Friday 1995
Faith
To want otherwise, deems the scheme flawed
and is intolerant, presumptuous pride's
(un) entertaining ignorance of the soul
that sighs and sings, "Succumb! Surrender!"
Faint unflinching energy pulsates at the
edge, while atoms jump exuberant,
sub-atomic dancers out mambos
matter, the least little bit before nothing
beyond the imagination is
out of bounds, out of the blue, out in left field
ever, in the something out of nothing or
always something mystery maker
and if intolerant, presumptuous pride,
otherwise wants the scheme's flaw and deems
the singing, sighing soul be silent
Then who hears, "Succumb! Surrender!" but
the pure, patient heart undeterred by
Eternity's modern memory design.
April 2000
and is intolerant, presumptuous pride's
(un) entertaining ignorance of the soul
that sighs and sings, "Succumb! Surrender!"
Faint unflinching energy pulsates at the
edge, while atoms jump exuberant,
sub-atomic dancers out mambos
matter, the least little bit before nothing
beyond the imagination is
out of bounds, out of the blue, out in left field
ever, in the something out of nothing or
always something mystery maker
and if intolerant, presumptuous pride,
otherwise wants the scheme's flaw and deems
the singing, sighing soul be silent
Then who hears, "Succumb! Surrender!" but
the pure, patient heart undeterred by
Eternity's modern memory design.
April 2000
PARSIFAL
i.
Before the lid was closed
I looked in and saw the child in repose.
Protecting him I held my tongue
And watched as they stood with their
Backs to the casket--one was doing laundry,
The other, in uniform, looked
about him for any criminal activity.
"Murder, Murder! Murder most foul,"
in my heart's chamber echoed,
Muffled by my urgency
And my Friar Lawrence habit.
I put the boy in the sepulcher
And burned candles,
Held secret vigils,
strewed the floor with sweet smelling flowers.
The one changed her hair color-
The other accepted promotions.
I forgot also.
Except in my dreams,
Except in my drinks,
Except in my drugs,
I forgot also.
ii.
Oh the men and boys I have gamboled with!
Not sweetly innocent on clover fields,
But darkly separate anywhere we could.
Hopefully out of sight,
Out of light,
Hopelessly married in the night.
"Are you my father?"
"Are you my son?"
"Is it possible that somehow we are one?"
The unasked questions behind the introductions-
"Is that his real name?"
"Is he really seeking love?"
The hastily unzipped pants,
The ravenous feedings,
Priapic vampires
Each others only mirror.
Recognized, acknowledged, tasted, spitted out or swallowed,
heated reciprocity,
Stone-cold giving, kneeling in the dark, kneeling in the dark, bleeding in my heart
Stake less, eternal pain. There are many roads to the wastelands. Many positions.
In the shrub shrouded privacy of public domain we perform our sacraments, primitive,
Fearful, make me hurt, numb this pain, quickly rezipped, a bow, and all the demons in
My head drive me tormented away, "I am unlovable."
iii.
Sisyphus lies down,
"Not again," his soul whispers.
I am tired, bruised and scarred.
I have been the width, breath, height
And find no egress.
It is dark.
There is music.
I am tired, bruised and scarred.
If I lie down to sleep
The Harpies descend.
I eat only to feel empty.
iv.
Beneath this castle,
Beneath this walled fortress
Is a sepulcher.
All the seeming world is crying out,
"Parsifal! Parsifal!"
The enchantment ironically ends the magic.
Klingsor, my brother,
Dark ruler of my impotence.
Beneath this castle,
Beneath this walled fortress
Is a sepulcher.
All the seeming world is crying out,
"Parsifal! Parsifal!"
Gurnemanz lives at Grand street
(not grandiosity place)
and patiently,
lovingly teaches Parsifal.
Gurnemanz tells him of the sepulcher.
The unasked question remains so.
The man in the uniform dies at Christmas.
Without crucifixion there is no resurrection,
the neurotic only fools himself.
The woman doing laundry rests, breathes
New April showers sweet that pierce to the
Root the drought of March.
Timely,
Synchronicity.
The male mantle falls upon the shoulders of the unbowed Parsifal."
"Conjure, Klingsor!" challenges the Grail knight,
Recalling in a vision wonder--
Breaks the depriving spell
And Klingsor defeats.
v.
Beneath this castle,
Beneath this walled fortress
is a sepulcher.
I have strewed sweet smelling flowers,
Enter the Grail knight.
He moves to the casket.
I have burned candles.
Compassion infusing his being
He turns to me.
I have kept secret vigils.
"Is the child sleeping?"
vi.
Oh resplendent moment!
Transfiguring question!
"Yes!" I joyously cry.
I take the sleeping child
And give him to the champion.
New vigor surges through the land.
The flesh knows its own glory.
The soul its finest peace.
The man in uniform spirit
Makes strong the sinews of the knight.
The woman who has rested, gardens.
Kllingsor hates himself no more.
I have stopped the bleeding.
Parsifal coos to the child.
Oh resplendent moment.
Most wondrous integration.
There is light
And there is music.
vii.
The days of Lohengrin,
The golden knight.
The son of Parsifal.
"Are you my father?"
"Are you my son?"
"Is it possible somehow we are one?"
Yes.
Comes my swan.
Comes my unicorn.
Comes the magic.
Come the singing mermaids.
The days of Lohengrin.
January 1993
Before the lid was closed
I looked in and saw the child in repose.
Protecting him I held my tongue
And watched as they stood with their
Backs to the casket--one was doing laundry,
The other, in uniform, looked
about him for any criminal activity.
"Murder, Murder! Murder most foul,"
in my heart's chamber echoed,
Muffled by my urgency
And my Friar Lawrence habit.
I put the boy in the sepulcher
And burned candles,
Held secret vigils,
strewed the floor with sweet smelling flowers.
The one changed her hair color-
The other accepted promotions.
I forgot also.
Except in my dreams,
Except in my drinks,
Except in my drugs,
I forgot also.
ii.
Oh the men and boys I have gamboled with!
Not sweetly innocent on clover fields,
But darkly separate anywhere we could.
Hopefully out of sight,
Out of light,
Hopelessly married in the night.
"Are you my father?"
"Are you my son?"
"Is it possible that somehow we are one?"
The unasked questions behind the introductions-
"Is that his real name?"
"Is he really seeking love?"
The hastily unzipped pants,
The ravenous feedings,
Priapic vampires
Each others only mirror.
Recognized, acknowledged, tasted, spitted out or swallowed,
heated reciprocity,
Stone-cold giving, kneeling in the dark, kneeling in the dark, bleeding in my heart
Stake less, eternal pain. There are many roads to the wastelands. Many positions.
In the shrub shrouded privacy of public domain we perform our sacraments, primitive,
Fearful, make me hurt, numb this pain, quickly rezipped, a bow, and all the demons in
My head drive me tormented away, "I am unlovable."
iii.
Sisyphus lies down,
"Not again," his soul whispers.
I am tired, bruised and scarred.
I have been the width, breath, height
And find no egress.
It is dark.
There is music.
I am tired, bruised and scarred.
If I lie down to sleep
The Harpies descend.
I eat only to feel empty.
iv.
Beneath this castle,
Beneath this walled fortress
Is a sepulcher.
All the seeming world is crying out,
"Parsifal! Parsifal!"
The enchantment ironically ends the magic.
Klingsor, my brother,
Dark ruler of my impotence.
Beneath this castle,
Beneath this walled fortress
Is a sepulcher.
All the seeming world is crying out,
"Parsifal! Parsifal!"
Gurnemanz lives at Grand street
(not grandiosity place)
and patiently,
lovingly teaches Parsifal.
Gurnemanz tells him of the sepulcher.
The unasked question remains so.
The man in the uniform dies at Christmas.
Without crucifixion there is no resurrection,
the neurotic only fools himself.
The woman doing laundry rests, breathes
New April showers sweet that pierce to the
Root the drought of March.
Timely,
Synchronicity.
The male mantle falls upon the shoulders of the unbowed Parsifal."
"Conjure, Klingsor!" challenges the Grail knight,
Recalling in a vision wonder--
Breaks the depriving spell
And Klingsor defeats.
v.
Beneath this castle,
Beneath this walled fortress
is a sepulcher.
I have strewed sweet smelling flowers,
Enter the Grail knight.
He moves to the casket.
I have burned candles.
Compassion infusing his being
He turns to me.
I have kept secret vigils.
"Is the child sleeping?"
vi.
Oh resplendent moment!
Transfiguring question!
"Yes!" I joyously cry.
I take the sleeping child
And give him to the champion.
New vigor surges through the land.
The flesh knows its own glory.
The soul its finest peace.
The man in uniform spirit
Makes strong the sinews of the knight.
The woman who has rested, gardens.
Kllingsor hates himself no more.
I have stopped the bleeding.
Parsifal coos to the child.
Oh resplendent moment.
Most wondrous integration.
There is light
And there is music.
vii.
The days of Lohengrin,
The golden knight.
The son of Parsifal.
"Are you my father?"
"Are you my son?"
"Is it possible somehow we are one?"
Yes.
Comes my swan.
Comes my unicorn.
Comes the magic.
Come the singing mermaids.
The days of Lohengrin.
January 1993
Monday, December 6, 2010
Oberon's Anchor
In Faery it easy is
To be airborne overmuch,
Take Oberon, ruler of
the seldom seen magic realm.
Folk lore are his flights
on nights with moon boats
He sailed the cerulean sea
Seeking Love's fancy
And floating o'er the sea
He espied his own reflection,
But naught it proved to be
But another, of his perfection-
A troubadour of hopeful songs
That sought Love's fancy too
And gazing at the Elf King
He wooed his eyes of blue.
And knitting so a love knot
Tied one unto the other,
This Anchor secured for him
The tether of the Magicker.
With equal zeal they pulled until
The space between them was less
That in good measure by their will
Their lips met in a deep kiss
And ever since when told are tales
Of Oberon's high adventures
Always companioned is he now
By the Singer, his heart's new owner.
May 2010
To be airborne overmuch,
Take Oberon, ruler of
the seldom seen magic realm.
Folk lore are his flights
on nights with moon boats
He sailed the cerulean sea
Seeking Love's fancy
And floating o'er the sea
He espied his own reflection,
But naught it proved to be
But another, of his perfection-
A troubadour of hopeful songs
That sought Love's fancy too
And gazing at the Elf King
He wooed his eyes of blue.
And knitting so a love knot
Tied one unto the other,
This Anchor secured for him
The tether of the Magicker.
With equal zeal they pulled until
The space between them was less
That in good measure by their will
Their lips met in a deep kiss
And ever since when told are tales
Of Oberon's high adventures
Always companioned is he now
By the Singer, his heart's new owner.
May 2010
Gifts with Secrets
Today my heart enlarges
the compass of the Sky.
The irrational world is
a hale fellow well met,
even the murky fertile
Unconscious is gregarious
sharing gifts with
Secrets, like modest
kisses offered explanations.
Oh splendid word splendid is
for describing my mood,
How entire this transformation,
Magic best not questioned
or analyzed.
Submerged and rising in an
uninterrupted moment,
a caramel dipped ice cream
cone handed to me by
My newest friend.
Introductions permitted but
depths unfathomable,
So no essay is brokered-
What is not needed
is not required.
Conquistador
And why not?
Discoverer, teacher, participant
In my soaring heart
Where the refrain of
My Song of Myself
now is accompanied by
Tolling bells and new light
flashes celebratory joy.
So many gifts-
Gifts to be re-gifted
As is the way
The Masters said
for the generous open
Heart, most especially
the Gifts with Secrets.
What can I say about
These gifts with secrets?
Only all that is revealed
By the promise kept,
All of all, in time.
January 7, 2010
the compass of the Sky.
The irrational world is
a hale fellow well met,
even the murky fertile
Unconscious is gregarious
sharing gifts with
Secrets, like modest
kisses offered explanations.
Oh splendid word splendid is
for describing my mood,
How entire this transformation,
Magic best not questioned
or analyzed.
Submerged and rising in an
uninterrupted moment,
a caramel dipped ice cream
cone handed to me by
My newest friend.
Introductions permitted but
depths unfathomable,
So no essay is brokered-
What is not needed
is not required.
Conquistador
And why not?
Discoverer, teacher, participant
In my soaring heart
Where the refrain of
My Song of Myself
now is accompanied by
Tolling bells and new light
flashes celebratory joy.
So many gifts-
Gifts to be re-gifted
As is the way
The Masters said
for the generous open
Heart, most especially
the Gifts with Secrets.
What can I say about
These gifts with secrets?
Only all that is revealed
By the promise kept,
All of all, in time.
January 7, 2010
The Salvage
The highest aim of the human heart
is digraced by culture's constrictions.
Cramped, choked, swallowed whole
by the indulgers in conspicuous consuption,
exposed of the obscene, obtuse, obssessives
who unleash more lessons than learn,
pilfer from their own storehouse
until poor in spirit,
Rail against the cruelty of life,
condemn themselves to dire deprivation,
banished, bankrupt, wrecked
barren bounty.
The native hungry hearken
to emulate the madness,
multiplying insult against
cashiered compassion's gllimmer.
Their ceiling is the floor
of the examined
human heart owner-
amply nourished
Universebartering
with soul revenue
of accrued wisdom-
Love's generosity,
solvent of all
Spitritual debt-
Saved.
is digraced by culture's constrictions.
Cramped, choked, swallowed whole
by the indulgers in conspicuous consuption,
exposed of the obscene, obtuse, obssessives
who unleash more lessons than learn,
pilfer from their own storehouse
until poor in spirit,
Rail against the cruelty of life,
condemn themselves to dire deprivation,
banished, bankrupt, wrecked
barren bounty.
The native hungry hearken
to emulate the madness,
multiplying insult against
cashiered compassion's gllimmer.
Their ceiling is the floor
of the examined
human heart owner-
amply nourished
Universebartering
with soul revenue
of accrued wisdom-
Love's generosity,
solvent of all
Spitritual debt-
Saved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)