Poem - Nowhere Else

i have no idea what happens next --
i'm peaceful about this

things could be one way,
or the opposite way

it doesn't really matter,
because here i am, nowhere else


------

Escondido
12.15.2011

Chung Tzu and Vacations

Chung Tzu comes in with this beautiful Nordic-looking woman with sea-grey eyes and a regal bearing. At the same time, she seems to be so eminently friendly, I find myself staring -- then I realize it is Darraðarljóð. I look away and then I look back, and she looks at me steadily.

"I admit I am absolutely terrified to meet you!"

She smiles.

"No! No! Relax!" laughs Chung Tzu, "You see, now you know: Everybody goes out of town for a vacation!"

Poem - Every Time It Happens

A flurry of rain falls,
from the dark cloud wing
of an enormous bird.
I have thought this
construction of words before.
But every time it happens,
it grabs me.

----

Escondido
12.12.11

My Favorite Proust Quote

"Quand je veux pour le train pour aller plus vite, hélas - il va plus lentement. Si ce n'est pas à la plateforme, puis il est tard. Toutes les machines distributrices ici sont horribles, la vente des marchandises pour des cannibales..."

-- Proust
"Remembrance of Things Past"

It is Very Difficult to Strip off the Man

"It is very difficult entirely to strip off the man."

...said by the Skeptic Philosopher Pyrrho, who normally received all events with acceptance & serenity, after defending himself from a vicious stray dog.

I feel what Pyrrho writes. I can't seem to have release from the most basic of selfish motivations, in all that I do. Usually I catch myself before I cause harm, and this is good. Often, I am able to guide my thinking to a new outlook.

Perhaps I will never be free of these provocations of the self. I suppose it does not matter if I have these flaws -- declared, denied, or declaimed, provided I am motivated by some power greater than myself to do the best thing for every situation.

Chung Tzu Can Tell

"Inside it looks like Paris, France, the weather outside like Palm Springs, and the yard looks like the lawn just got cut. Who cut the lawn?" I ask Chung Tzu.

"Well, I know by the way you're asking me, you certainly didn't!" remarks Chung Tzu, and he laughs.

-------

Escondido
12.05.11

Poem - I Do Not Know

alas! i don't know
i don't know

but like in 'waiting for godot'
i show up

there's something about
the decision to continue

without any concern
for being saved

Poem - Spider Weaves a Web

Spider weaves a web,
thoughtless is as trust --
an element in the space,
dodging particles of dust.

Alongside a windowpane,
it encounters the cool --
springing on the field of glass
are haystacks made of dew.

Now the spider is the thresher,
linked one to one by light --
as the man, the spider moves,
toiling till out of sight.

-------

Petaluma
at the Washoe House

Cicero and Bicycles / Cicero und Fahrräder

Cicero said, "To philosophize is to learn how to die." And I said, "And you can learn how to ride a bicycle, too!" And Cicero turned around and gave me a good long stare. Ahem.

**

Cicero sagte: "Philosophieren ist zu lernen, wie man stirbt." Und ich sagte: "Und Sie können lernen, wie man Fahrrad fährt, too!" Und Cicero drehte sich um und gab mir eine gute lange anzustarren. Ähem.

Poem - Pub Liar

pub
liar

he has
dead
fingers

he has
hay
for eyes

all he
is: smile

jukebox
smokebreak

hugging
two dogs
on a
leash

he wrestles
a face red
like in a
field

he'd fuck
a chair


------

Lower Haight
SF

As I Traveled Under Your Gaze

Here's what I've learned over the Thanksgiving Holiday between San Francisco and San Diego: Every pretty girl on that 500 mile trek gets hit up by about 9,000 times, every day. The boys try it one way, the young-men in other ways -- the old men with refined technique that could be described as consciously moneyed and boorish. It happens in cafes, department stores, boutiques, libraries, churches, bars, everywhere, and at all hours. A pretty woman learns much about the opposite sex in how they attempt, and then inevitably flame out. Well, most of them attempt and aren't up to the task. Being sober counts! Clean clothes and a nice smile, the ability listen and join into conversation helps!

Square your belt,
and keep on your boots.

If you have on a hat,
hold it when you say hello.

I listened to them and I doubted it all. I listened more and drew diagrams of constellations like Orion the Hunter at a ballpark having a beer, or doing his taxes at the computer, and they laughed. But at San Luis Obsipo, with the crescent moon and a lone star about to land in the sea, I started understanding what had been told to me! The night rose up like a ghost mansion, and at every gabled window a statuesque blue-eyed blonde watched out over the lonely abandoned mountains, and to the forested North, and they searched out over the South to my destination. Thank you, gorgeous women, as I traveled under your gaze.

Poem - Where it Snows

it snows somewhere
i wish i was at that place

to see the type of sky that snows
and feel the bite of tiny flakes

i'd be alone in a field
sloping down to a sleeping lake

and on the other side a hill
with a wall of silent trees

Pome - i reenter/ the present moment

hovering unreality
as real as the pluck
that started a
dumb string
vibrating

my opinion of you
unreal & transitory

my view of me
as laughable as
considering a plan
to lay a foundation
in thin air

i reenter
the present moment

with no tools
with no aim
with no grasp
no you
no me

i write this
and a sigh escapes

Poem - Every Secret

you can't know about others
you don't own them
they don't own you

everything is about you
even what you don't want to know
everything you didn't say

and everybody knows
what you think they don't know
about you, every secret

*

vous ne pouvez pas connaître les autres
vous ne les propres
ils ne vous possédez

tout est sur ​​vous
même ce que vous ne voulez pas savoir
tout ce que vous n'avez pas dit

et chacun sait
ce que vous pensez qu'ils ne savent pas
sur vous, tous les secrets

-----

Escondido
11.14.11

Poem - A Drive with a Breaking Heart

his heart breaks and he laughs
because there is no holding onto anything
not even the delight of the fact
a heart is meant to be broken

the moon is more and so is the ridge
that the moon ran past as he drove on interstate 5
part of a sea of bobbing headlights
counter to the glowing tail lights

faced by the dark house he entered it
faced by white comforter and sheets he lay in them
resented by sleep he dreamed
and then it was a new dawn

he had coffee
he saw friends
he listens
he was not alone

Poem - the leaves in new york city

the leaves in new york city
curl up
just getting into true red and gold
under
the sky of central park
buoying
the monumental needle

-------

In the Garden
Behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art
11.07.11

Poem - Ceaseless

i dream you are unhappy
because something is bothering you
so i wake up at 2 AM
and in the black dark i make a mental note
to call you in the morning
and ask if everything is okay
but when i awake in the morning
the light reminds me you're angry at me
and you'll never let go of the unhappiness
that i dream ceaselessly about

i make coffee i smoke a cigarette
i cough and figure it is time to quit

Poem - Fire

fire is an event
not a thing

a tree cut down
sunlight going out
in twisted flames
sparks gushing up
some see agony
others enjoy

only on earth
where there is
enough oxygen

everything can burn
here london
chicago warsaw
russia berlin
infirm people
villages cars
neighborhoods
rivers

a heap of old
newspapers could
burst into flame

or magazines

or compost heaps

or all your culture
stripped to black ash
in every nook
and cranny

fire is an event
not a thing

Lions, Tigers and Bears

He blew his brains out in Ohio, but before he pulled the trigger, he let all his exotic animals out, hoping one or two of them would harm him in the most grievous and gruesome manner. Lions, Tigers and Bears, Oh My! He presented himself ceremoniously as a target, to each, unlatching the doors. But the cougars, and other caged beasts fled from him like everyone else in his miserable life. The best he got was a hiss and a swat, and that only left a few superficial gashes through his jeans. Then he had cold comfort imagining his neighbors would be locked in their houses for miles and miles around, at the same time down here he'd be laying with his brains and bits of bone stuck all over the walls. Just like his father. Ha ha ha. Ha ha. He listened for screams, and heard none. He bent his head down, and started walking back to the trailer. He hated the sun, he hated the sunlight, he hated the morning. Then he remembered he had meant to kill himself, and looked one more time behind, at the pens. He put the gun to his head.

Off Into Space

Off into space we go, with bags of farts. The navigator is obviously insane, he collects his farts. We find this out after reaching orbit, when calculating the next leg of the historic journey. Commander Maarten squeezes a plump one, seeming empty, in the aft cabin. After the fight, and the various reactions of the crew, I now see this will be a long, arduous journey.