I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


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Monday, September 30, 2019

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
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