Incant for September 30

September 30, 1973  (I was 28)

   Incant for September 30

In other years

I have believed,

I have acknowledged

the magic of ritual,

the panacea of incantation,

the forceful paths of planets.

October has been

one of my good months,

the autumnal recess,

reflection and changing colors,

wind and clean air,

rain and moss in the woods.

This year,

faith was last year.

Hope is a wish

for an ironic joke of optimism,

a magical laugh

issuing from dark stars.

Expectation is a dream,

wonder is naïve.

I watch children

passing out the door

and back in again;

futile summer is on some other side.

oh light dark duality

pulse polarity

hot cold

insane humane

release me sun

carry me rain

Stanley likes to skate

September 29, 2010  (I was 65)

Stanley likes to skate

Ollie buys the tickets

Stanley watches the performer practicing

and imitates his confident stride

Ollie knows he is out of shape

and the cost of medical bills

sees another tumble and skates along the rail

Stanley rounds the curve to hook Ollie’s arm

Stanley slows Ollie gets up to speed

Stanley glides in humble pride

Ollie in arrogant fear

a competent partnering

-I began a series of pieces using Laurel and Hardy as

representations of right brain and left brain perception.

Not an original idea, I got it from Colin Wilson’s study,

Frankenstein’s Castle.  More appear in other posts.

Down at the vehicle house

September 28, 1975  (I was 30)

Down at the vehicle house

they congregate in the driveway.

Each day as I pass

I see the supplicating parishioners

bent over like ostriches into open hoods

of the car, station wagon, camper truck, tractor

and jeep.  They climb in and out

of the boat.  Mary and Joe Vehicle

watch the earth mover clearing more space

next to the triple stall garage whose doors

are always open.  Neighbors seem to drop by often

Young Jesse flies by on his un-muffled cycle

to give the boot to a few garbage cans

on his winding way up the hill.

His sister kicks the horse into third gear

riding bareback across the field.

These people are movers;

they are not about to ignore the salesman’s dogma

steaming off the showroom floor

They know that getting there is more

than half the fun.  This family is tuned

and running smooth.  Only a spark gap

separates their generations.

late night in Long Beach

September 27, 2012  (I was 67)

late night in Long Beach

reading Shunryo Suzuki’s, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind

The swinging door of the throat

the singularity of duality

To hear a dumpster diver in the alley

is to smell the dumpster into which I do not dive

To not read the book I read

the diver becomes one of my characters

working in my alley making noise

stiring up scents he does not smell

until he sees the reading light in my window

Last Night September rain

September26, 1971  (I was 26)

Last Night September rain

began to launder the trees.

They will shrink, fade and run,

lose leaves like buttons.

The cold clotheslines are bare,
we hide our bodies in thicker coats,

play ballads on the phonograph,

the tragic refrain in the air.

Motive Psychal –a theory

September 25, 1968  (I was 23)

Motive Psychal –a theory

         Teachers are perhaps some of the most insecure people on

earth, especially those of us who go right from college into the field

without an appreciable interlude in any other area of life.

         School life is secure.  It is organized, programmed, sheltered.

it is a microcosmic existence filled with tiny traumas and elfin

ecstasies which provide a suitable surrogate for reality.  In short,

the institutional environment provides a reasonable facsimile,

without the dangers of adult society.  It may be reasonable to

assume that those individuals who are attracted to life-long service

in the system,  are the same individuals who, during their own school

days, allowed themselves to become attached to the micro-facades of

school society to the extent of excluding identification with the world

outside that protective womb.

         If this is true, our educational systems may be filled with

people incapable of providing students with a suitable preparatory

program for living.  What proportion of the accepted values of school

society are those accepted in practice in a non-protective atmosphere?

Does great success depend on an ability to follow orders, to mimic a

textbook and subdue emotions, or is the truly successful individual

the maverick with a cultivated disdain for design, an aversion to

accepted truths and an outrage toward passivity?

         -this from one embarking upon a lifetime at the work   

Passing Time

September 24, 1974  (I was 29)

Passing Time

My wife’s old aunts live

across the street from their cemetery plots

Quite a view

from the window above the kitchen sink

They already live in trailer homes

Actually quite spacious they say

as one washes and the other one dries

They walk over there everyday

It’s good exercise they say

and they are nothing if not ordered and regular

It’s not sad at all barely poignant 

Rather efficient emotionally speaking

I can admire that

I’d like to be buried in a hole

convenient to the digger

I don’t like fire or cold water

but I wouldn’t complain

if they took my ashes to the ocean

and threw them in there

Older vultures know

September 23, 1998  (I was 53)

Older vultures know

the invisible adversary;

lack of will makes the mountain,

and the updraft

once so exhilarating

brings fatigue of oxygen deprivation.

Missing wing feathers

destabilize flight;

beauty now,

a struggle for efficiency,

for continuity of thought,

physical resolve

against the strength of gravity,

shoulder tugging neck burning

weakness of heart.

Ollie and Stanley at the Studio

September 22, 2010  (I was 65)

                               Ollie and Stanley at the Studio

Ollie:  in disgust, Look at us; Stanley does so.  I can not get us a contract with the studio. 

Stanley:  I think you can, emphasizing the I.

Ollie: I could not even get in the door; Stanley stares blankly at Ollie’s girth.  I was speaking figuratively, emphasizing the figuratively.  I could not get an appointment.

Stanley:  I think you could, emphasizing the you.

Ollie: I could not.  They see only agents.  We have no money for an agent.

Stanley:  You could be our agent.

Ollie:  I am not an agent.  I do not have the experience.

Stanley: What are you?

Ollie:  pauses, I am an actor, emphasizing the actor.

Stanley:  Act like an agent.

Ollie:  How does an agent act?

Stanley:  Exactly the question an actor should ask. 

            Ollie smiles intrigued, drumming his finger tips on his chest.

Cut to a cleaned and polished Ollie as he is ushered into the office of a studio executive.  Stanley follows exhibiting quiet curiosity. 

Executive: reads Ollie’s business card, Oliver Olivier, Talent Agent.  Never heard of you, who do you represent?

Ollie:  Abroad, I represent a guild of noted thespians; to Hollywood, I bring the team of Laurel and Hardy.

Executive:  Never heard of them; he indicates Stanley, And who is this?

Ollie:  The pair perform in all genres.  This is Stanley Laurel of said duo, also my partner.  I am Hardy. 

Executive:  I can see that.

Ollie:  I mean, I am Oliver Hardy.

Executive:  I thought your name was Oliver Olivier.

Ollie:  That’s my agensorial name, so to speak.

Executive:  What sort of act do you do?

Ollie:  Though we’ve played every endeavor of the theatre arts, I am often typecast as a sophisticated gentleman of means, with Stanley as my gentleman’s gentleman.  Stanley brushes off the shoulders of Ollie’s jacket.  Mr. Laurel has played Watson to my Holmes –though that seemed to create some audience confusion.  In Chatacqua revue we did Socratic dialogues, highly esoteric and highly regarded.

         Throughout, Stanley performs subtle expressions, bits of mime, all conveying support for Ollie.

Executive:  Why should I contract you.  Your story is the same as every          potential waiter in town.

Ollie:  We work cheap.

Stanley:  He works cheap; I work for nothing.  Ollie smacks Stanley with his hat. 

Ollie:  I thought we agreed that you’d shut up and leave the agenting to me. Stanley is forlorn.

Stanley:  But Ollie, you are not telling Mr. Executive the most important thing.   
to the Executive:  Ollie is seriously funny.  In any role he plays, emphasizing the any.  Ollie turns crimson.  He is irate and attempts to shove Stanley behind him.

Ollie:  I have never played a clown, never the buffoon, naught the joker.  I do not say funny things.

Stanley:  calmly, No, you say things funny.

Ollie:  Stanley, you irritate me in places I cannot discuss.

Executive:  I get the idea.  You’re hired.  I want twelve of those bits, fifteen minutes each, in the next three months.  Standard contract will be in the mail.  Miss Pool will show you out.  Next please.

Outside the studio gate:

Stanley:  And you said you didn’t know how to be an agent. 

Ollie:  I don’t know how to be an agent.  That, was acting.

-I began a series of pieces using Laurel and Hardy as

representations of right brain and left brain perception.

Not an original idea, I got it from Colin Wilson’s study,

Frankenstein’s Castle.  More appear in other posts.

-from The Litanies of Mistrust

September 21, 2008  (I was 63)

         -from The Litanies of Mistrust

Never trust:

         Hansel to follow the crumbs home

         a dinner invitation from Mother Hubbard

         the Sprats to serve a salad

         a cow’s worth of beans

         Bo Peep to tend your sheep

         a ba-ba-black sheep to give you a ba-ba-bag of wool

         a little piggy who has none

         Johnny Flynn heading to the well with a sack

Never trust:

         the swan within your ugliness

         Mary to be more than contrary

         Pete’s wife to come out of her shell

         a puss in boots

         a woman with a whip who lives in a shoe

         a spider to scare every muffet away

         Eency Weency to stay out of your spout

Never trust:

         Jack Horner to keep his fingers out of the pie

         Charming Billy not to try the young thing’s mother

         Rapunzel to let down her hair

         Boy Blue to wake up and blow

         Spoon not to run away with your dish

         a courting frog to be unarmed

         a monkey to pop your weasel

          nimble Jack to clear the fire plug

Exertion –a song

September 20, 1976  (I was 31)

         Exertion –a song

Ply the oar

with might and main

hammer the tongs

with heart and soul.

Do double duty,

strain every nerve

take pains

Work toil strive and strain

take pains

Make the pilgrimage

smoke the pipe

Prepare the ground

and watch for rain

Summon with drums

cry the hue

maintain

Gasp pant puff and blow

take pains

At daggers drawn

risk a neck

face the opinion

and stare daggers down

Bite against the grain

alone and unarmed

take pains

Astute artful crafty and shrewd

take pains

Thinking About Snow

September 19, 1974  (I was 29)

Thinking About Snow After Listening to

John Chancellor Talk About Drug Research

little flakes

damn dissolving crystals

millions becoming liquid

brain fuses melting with every breath

Blizzard Blizzard lost in the z’s

ozone snow twenty below

channel thirteen all day long

cloud breath

Jack London on snowshoes

Conrad Aiken blowing about the corners

frozen lungs

son of snow

patron saint of slippery streets

sleet’s elite one

profound drifts

alive in an igloo

If you walk by the fountain

from this week of September, 2014  (I was 69)

If you walk by the fountain

you will be calmed by its waters

If you walk in the desert

the hot sun will set to cool night

If you drift on the feathered breeze

you will light on the dewy grass

This is what the flute says

as you listen alone in dim light

Its notes bring the conscious breath

into plain sight the hum of life

From within her creative being

the musician colors the air

School has become people again

September 17, 1968  (I was 23)

         School has become people again, and once more

I have developed that blanket tickle that grips the top of my

stomach –a cancerous excitement.  The teacher orientation

week before the start of the school year is deflating to say

the least.  I arrived the first morning wanting to teach, but

after the first administrivia meeting I was ready to quit.

         The first day came and went and the clean little

animals had hardly littered the cages.  Their keepers had

scrubbed and polished until they all looked alike.

         But the second day, the second day they had changed.

They were no longer units or students or what have you.

They resembled (it always amazes me) me.  it was good to

see them alive, because I am a vampire –I need to suck out

their enthusiasm to keep alive.  They give it so willingly and

they have so much.

         I have remembered the absolute law of survival at

the zoo.  All keepers (in loco parentis) take heed:

         IGNORE THE CRAP

If you mention what it is

September 16, 2008  (I was 63)

If you mention what it is

it isn’t anymore

It begins in premonition

playing on the floor

Light and shadow from a window

cast from leaf and curtain lace

projects a shaded glow of age

across a youthful face

Eventually it sees the sound

and sound reflects the light

If you don’t say what it is

you hear a lovely sight

In home movies more than sixty years ago

September 15, 2011  (I was 56)

In home movies more than sixty years ago

the family poses grouped as for a still shot

They don’t know what to do after the first click

keeps on clicking they look uneasy

Then they each wave their idiosyncratic salute

obviously on cue from the director/cameraman

as one by one they walk toward the lens

smiling as they are reminded in passing

leaving the frame which pans Grandma’s garden

The cameos are standard improvs

Grandma pointing to tomato plants blushing

The back screen door of his tavern opens

Grandpa steps out already looking older than he is

Young boy dons a leather football helmet

Young girl almost cartwheels on the lawn

Aunt Lucy turns to hide behind a tree

In the alley cars new then and humorous later

are classic relics now more well-remembered

than anyone who drove them

The wind and rain littered the road

from this week of September, 2014  (I was 69)

The wind and rain littered the road

twigs and branches limbs and trunks

made impassible a long stretch

pleasurable yesterday through the shade

Need increased each isolated moment

Hard pressed the Department of Hawaii Highways

found something more important to address

Then ten or more men with chainsaws

on either side of the stand sawed

all day while others lugged logs

and twisted timbers into ditches

raked and swept debris and ate the lunches

drank the coffee brought in pick-up trucks

by those with no other means to help

In a disaster we find ourselves proud to be socialists

crows

from this week in September, 2016  (I was 71)

crows                                                     

in oak shadows

feed

on seed

crowteries under trees

probe and peek

through blade and leaf

never stare

yet know I’m there

ignore not ignorant

tolerant of stillness

cautious

if stirred

give word

short flight

darker site

        

            2

in and out of the shade                          

a consternation of crows

in a tribal tiff

tree to tree

ah vs. aw

territorial occupancy

over the mown turf

direct descents

displace squatters

flights of flocks

squawk strategy

the king

September 12, 2007  (I was 62)

         the king

It wasn’t like keys to the kingdom

It wasn’t owning Disneyland

more like a lifetime pass to one of the lands

admittance to a generational denomination

in the vast league of the arts

finding a representational voice of self

before the self had found its voice

finding a groove in the surface of time

that spiraled toward a positive future

and the first signpost on the vinyl road said

“Don’t be cruel to a heart that’s true”

septememoriam

September 11, 2006  (I was 61)

       septememoriam

National mourning is precisely ritualistic

Those in public employ practice eulogy

The tone is refined the voice restrained

yet resolute  Their demeanor is somber

Beyond the honesty of empathy

they are personally involved

the official voice of sincerity

the declaration of determination

the assurance that none were lost in vain

In sacrifice we find strength

to endure and the will to move on

Years later the immediate survivors

test the flexibility of scar tissue

as they work to reform mis-shapen lives

and clear a path a day through wilderness

no nation has learned to tame

It’s an emergency call nine one one

September 10, 2006  (I was 61)

It’s an emergency call nine one one

The voice on the other end has been trained

to lead you from trauma to information

from problem to resolution

September is the ninth month

the month of birth in procreation

as well as the month beginning autumn

Try to remember

the fire of September…

And the pair of ones

numeric twins to those two towers

lucky on the Vegas tables

and like the double lines

through the  dollar sign

so popular in America

Little is spoken

of the symbolic symmetry

too much a token

of precisely calculated infamy