Poem - i can see my son/ watching the show

i only hear the tv
when it is one room away

i can see my son
watching the show

bathed in blue light
he laughs when it laughs

and jumps
to the explosions

Poem - i have a pond in my hand

i have a pond in my hand
fish live they look happy
with no worries in the world

my other palm is over the water
and makes nice shade with such
smooth water how could we be unhappy

Poem - the strokes/ of a silent bell

night was clear
like a noiseless bell

it tolled again and
again the hours

but unlike last time
i wasn't counting

nor was i not
counting

the strokes
of a silent bell

Poem - the wonder i see

big jet off to japan or chicago
look at that plane pull for the sky

catching the morning light
through the mist -- go go go

so straight so shiny
it can't exist or be made

the wonder i see
senses i previously was blind to

now shows me of what i lost
and what i have

Poem - Untrampled

we are not right
we think our needs will heal us
we think our wants will give us happiness

contentment is not chained
nor can it be gathered like any gathered thing
that is why it is contentment uncontainable

and we know this
we were born knowing this
and this is why we are what we are

yet we resist and we burn
to take daylight to a war or the moon
from a starry ocean night to a tomb

words thoughts ideals plans
brief as they are pretty as they are
saw the wide world & said they owned it

our mental defects
are so much lesser and poorer
than any deficiency we ever thought up

.

so the imperishable
comes back after much ruin and denial
untrampled by beginning middle and ending

----

9/12/2010
for Anicius Manlius Severinus Boëthius

Boethius - Song VI. -- All Things Have Their Needful Order

For to each thing God hath given
 Its appointed time;
No perplexing change permits He
 In His plan sublime.
So who quits the order due
Shall a luckless issue rue.

---

From "The Consolation of Philosophy"
This is the seed of the AA Serenity Prayer

Poem - but it is here

moving out of my dead time
i understand a little of what you taught

there was no way to impart
this comprehension & you knew it

all that could be done was to suggest
over and over and give out clues

hopefully or not hopefully there'd be
some kind of impression

but still learning does not stand of anything
and impressions are voids to be filled

when we look fondly at what we have learned
and see there are no gaps at all

everything is naturally complete to create
uncreated completion

now i have strayed out of words and thoughts
but it is here

words and thoughts cannot describe anything

those who do not understand will say it is secret
or impossible to know

but like love it is here

----

for LTR

Poem - what comes to your mind

in the middle of the night
what comes to your mind

when i am naked and
unguarded i see clearly

all these things
i have had before

you cannot keep them
but they come again

i awake and i know
if i abide

they too will be here in our
short time

the new song is not
freinds are gathering

the house arises
there are no new places

nothing has been lost
but there is the fear of time

like a jewel that can be broken
in a clock that can stop

you who fear like this
a spot of rain just fell

is it on your left of me
or the right?

Poem - of the river & the sea

do you keep doing
the things you've always been doing?
so am i
as summer is almost over and fall
begins the fall

being in a new place old cartoons
sound charming
and there is no mist or overcast
until 7 am

full blown day

the barge has
moved it's black bar down the bay
i feel soon
when fall is in full swing
it will be at the mouth

of the river & the sea

----

Back Bay
Newport, CA

Places With or Without My Love

I've never been to Kornsjø.

Or Stolipinovo.

Never visited Nagaland, or gone to the banks of the Rivière Soliette.

If I could listen to the Seufzer-Galopp, while driving on the Arbuthnot Road, while talking to a blonde about the 1911 Tour de France -- specifically about the close battle between Octave Lapize and François Faber -- would I be satisfied? I'm sure someone has had this conversation in such company, and they were happy.

Or I could figure out which Richard Doyle had come close to listening to the Seufzer-Galopp, while driving on the Arbuthnot Road, while talking to a blonde.

Or I could guess from Kornsjø, Stolipinovo has had a few people who have been back and home again on the way to the Rivière Soliette.

The moon is the same here, and in Nagaland. And whatever version of the Seufzer-Galopp you listen to, I'm sure it sounds the same.

With or without my love.

Poem - even if you want/ or even if you don't want them

what have i forgotten
many things wiped away by this day

but money lives in the past present
and future

a deadly responsibility
this business of having things

even if you want
or even if you don't want them

but don't be fooled and say
it is money's fault

Poem - all is before 1st light

mist hanging low & blue over the back bay, lights twinkled from a far off barge over silver water

all is before 1st light: the barge was black and questions died away,
thoughts caught off guard were annihilated

----

Back Bay
September 1