Monday, February 20, 2017

mother cries at the gate
she holds your hand through the bars
but she is going back

it will be a long journey then
to be here
even to these bars

these bright lights
these painfully shining linoleum floors

as two separate points
you get farther away from mother
your mother gets father away from you

who knows when a journey
might bring you to her
or her to you

you stay at the gate
after mother is taken away
dots her tears on the floor

like a path
to another locked and closed door


**
hands moving in hotel rooms
drinking wine signing stationary
wish you were here glad they are not

vista outside of a perfect white beach
wind blows through the room
everything neat and paid for

from the 40th floor you see everything
everything is possible and exciting
either considering to jump or eat dinner

balanced in hotel room you know well
that one motion starts another everything
from that first perceptible accident


**
pictures of hotel rooms
of hand signals
of outfits
of cars
of restaurants
of drinking
of beaches
it never ends

there is no narrative
only assumptions
of what is gracious
of what is stylish
of what is attractive
of what is fancy
of what is desirable

the mummery continues
wants and desires
wrapped layer on layer
until the mind is paralyzed
the true self unrecognizable

but finding true self or clarity
was never the object of this

behold my beauty
and despair




**


Friday, February 17, 2017

because i was dead
i could see everywhere
i knew everything
but i thought back

to when i was alive
when i fished at night
i seemed to be pulling
fish out of a starry sky

the boat moved
over the moon
an orb that winked

the great deep
blackness of time
i easily conquered

the only break
in this

were the fish
writhing and dying
gasping to death



#






you can find me
i am in the sky
just beyond swaying leaves
i am in the fields

if you are happy
i am here too
all kinds of happiness

i am in the sky
in the fields

by the lakes
you can find me
in noon and in dusk
golden light
apple colored light

if you are happy
i especially appear
all kinds of joy

white ice
melting
tan grasses

i am in the sky
in the fields
by the lakes


*

Osseo MN


Friday, February 10, 2017

living in an age
where poetry is just a thing

like a dirty note
gas receipt or mattress tag


*


there is a picture of you
in your car

a selfie
why in the car no reason

we drive
in our cars we sit in them

you are in
your car smiling

a selfie
why are you smiling

no reason
we smile when we take selfies

sitting in
our cars showing something



*


Saturday, January 28, 2017

One day Jesus was walking with his students, and they passed by the carcass of a dog.
The students said, "How this dog stinks!"
..But Jesus said, "How white are it's teeth!"


"Revival of the Religious Sciences"
Abū Ḥāmid Muḥammad al-Ghazālī
11th Century





**





http://ghazali.org/ihya/english/ihya-vol3.htm

Friday, January 27, 2017

the devil is an innocent
marred only by a kind of pride

i am hard at work dreaming
aim to outdo even him

my fallen nature burnishes
dullness into brass

but the devil knows
all my plans will fail

and only one place
i will return to

even beyond the damned
and his plantation hell

so the devil urges me on
do your best always

doing perpetuates
more doing

the ultimate sin


*




Thursday, January 26, 2017

The man in the wilderness asked of me,
How many strawberries grow in the sea?
I answered him, as I thought was good,
As many red herrings grow in a wood.

-- From an annotation in "The Whole Duty of Man" (1733)

Saturday, January 21, 2017

don quixote
knight of the sorrowful face

el caballero de la triste figura

hero to those
who are out of their prime
but still dream
with a youthful heart

for true imagination
and inspiration
never age

they cannot

highest flights of fancy

these come from
some other place
beyond our own sky

a place with its own
stars and loves
compelling



*