Reclining Lady of Six-Eighty (5)

 

August 30

 

   Reclining Lady of Six-Eighty  (5)*

The days she remains invisible

behind walls of gray air

something substantial in me is obliterated

patched over with vague recollection

 

More real then is every daily revelation

of her form whether in pastel silhouette

or stark as Cezanne against the blue

and more remarkable in her vital reality

 

And the constant passive security posed

from turned face and breast

to open hips and rising thighs

unique in every light

 

causes me to consider her dreams

to be the fabric of the dawn

into which I move

and against which I disappear

 

*From a series written from 1998-2001 (I was 53-56)

all those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

 

August 6, 2000 (I was 55)

 

all those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

iki keiki alii mauka and makai

little regal children of the mountain and the sea

lolo pahoehoe and aa lomi lomi down Mauna Loa

both crazy rope lava and chunky stuff

massage the long mountain

it’s a menehuene luau with laulau

opelehu kalua pig and poi in Pahoa

Wild Wing –Avocet

 

from this week in June, 2000 (I was 55)

 

Wild Wing –Avocet

         A return to the course after a year’s layoff.  It is a sculpted

landscape with towering mounds and deep traps framed by thick

woodlands.  Molded obstacles traverse the fairways at unusual

angles.  Barrancas of native grasses, marsh growths and pond

crossings make for visual deception and difficulty gauging distances.

The Bermuda fairways held the ball high on a light bed, easy to divot,

but causing some fat hits especially with high irons and wedge shots.

The large greens, often 40-45 yards deep, were tiered and undulating.

The challenges are fair because options present themselves, and

occasional easier holes provide breathing space.  I felt fortunate to

card a 90 though I knew I could improve both strategy and execution.

The course has a fabricated beauty of elegant human design artfully

imposed on the natural landscape.  I like the course, especially the

fairways, and we will return to experience more of this four track

complex. 

 

The saxophone

 

March 20,2000  (I was 55)

 

The saxophone

held upright on its stand

could be a lavish pipe fitting

awaiting installation

under the sink of someone rich

Melodious golden plumbing

to be played by breath of water

in cold staccato spurts

or a warm flow of languid notes

that everyone knows

come straight from the eternal river

August 4, 2000 (I was 55)

 

August 4, 2000  (I was 55)

 

The scent of floral vegetation

that had hung in warm morning air

is dissipated by the ocean breeze

that also chases remnant cloud tissue

up the slope toward Mauna Loa

 

The laps of relaxing repetition lull

the senses into timelessness

Billfish Tournament boats pace the sea alleys

First the pair of magpie then the doves

make their rounds on the lawn

 

Cheryl does her languid morning crawl

flick plash forth and back across the pool

Hands of articulate palms practice

delicate gesture and reflective hula

both on the air and over the water

 

The charter dive boat bobs off the point

Swimmers join the flight circles of mantas

to feel the proximate terror of their mass

and the jolt of awareness

to perceive the self within the greater realm

 

The quiet pulse of surf plays the lava shore

while summer leaves to become summer

So goes the tropical pattern in days

of here and there over and under

until from the mountain the thunder     

all those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

August 6, 2000 (I was 55)

 

all those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

iki keiki alii mauka and makai

little regal children of the mountain and the sea

lolo pahoehoe and aa lomi lomi down Mauna Loa

both crazy rope lava and chunky stuff

massage the long mountain

it’s a menehuene luau with laulau

opelehu kalua pig and poi in Pahoa

Wild Wing –Avocet

from this week in June, 2000 (I was 55)

Wild Wing –Avocet

         A return to the course after a year’s layoff.  It is a sculpted

landscape with towering mounds and deep traps framed by thick

woodlands.  Molded obstacles traverse the fairways at unusual

angles.  Barrancas of native grasses, marsh growths and pond

crossings make for visual deception and difficulty gauging distances.

The Bermuda fairways held the ball high on a light bed, easy to divot,

but causing some fat hits especially with high irons and wedge shots.

The large greens, often 40-45 yards deep, were tiered and undulating.

The challenges are fair because options present themselves, and

occasional easier holes provide breathing space.  I felt fortunate to

card a 90 though I knew I could improve both strategy and execution.

The course has a fabricated beauty of elegant human design artfully

imposed on the natural landscape.  I like the course, especially the

fairways, and we will return to experience more of this four track

complex. 

The saxophone

March 20,2000  (I was 55)

The saxophone

held upright on its stand

could be a lavish pipe fitting

awaiting installation

under the sink of someone rich

melodious golden plumbing

to be played by breath of water

in cold staccato spurts

or a warm flow of languid notes

that everyone knows

comes straight from the eternal river

The scent of floral vegetation

August 4, 2000  (I was 55)

The scent of floral vegetation

that had hung in warm morning air

is dissipated by the ocean breeze

that also chases remnant cloud tissue

up the slope toward Mauna Loa

The laps of relaxing repetition lull

the senses into timelessness

Billfish Tournament boats pace the sea alleys

First the pair of magpie then the doves

make their rounds on the lawn

Cheryl does her languid morning crawl

flick plash forth and back across the pool

Hands of articulate palms practice

delicate gesture and reflective hula

both on the air and over the water

The charter dive boat bobs off the point

Swimmers join the flight circles of mantas

to feel the proximate terror of their mass

and the jolt of awareness

to perceive the self within the greater realm

The quiet pulse of surf plays the lava shore

while summer leaves to become summer

So goes the tropical pattern in days

of here and there over and under

until from the mountain the thunder

Marsh Harbour, Sea Trail

June 28, 2000  (I was 55)

Marsh Harbour G.C.   Calabash N.C. -morning

         Another great round at a course whose attraction is natural beauty unadorned and tamper free.  It is interesting that most guys in the group find this the most appealing course after playing such a variety of modern sculptured ones.  Architect Dan Maples’ best work seems to create interesting avenues for fairways among the trees and waterways with minimal disruption.  I like the thinned trees that define borders with scattered pine needles underneath as the primary rough.  Even with some spotty greens, apparently attacked by some type of fungus,  the scenic variety and the build-up to dramatic finishes on both nines makes this the best we played in terms of bang for the buck.  Sparse summer play by locals makes for the seclusion of a private club.

Sea Trail –Reese Jones Course  -afternoon

         Dan Bachelder and I stopped into the real estate office to pick up some brochures and spoke to an agent for less than 15 minutes.  When he learned we had a tee time, he called the pro shop and compt our round.  Nice.  After all the golf in the past weeks we were too tired to focus on serious play.  The day was warm, we were relaxed as we recalled memorable moments of the trip.  Dan Stevens came upon a six-foot alligator that eyed him from the lip of a fairway trap he was in.  After ignorant re-assurances from the rest of us, he hit the shot (quite well) as we took pictures.

All those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

August 6, 2000 (I was 55)

All those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

iki keiki alii mauka and makai

little regal children of the mountain and the sea

lolo pahoehoe and aa lomi lomi down Mauna Loa

both crazy rope lava and chunky stuff

massage the long mountain

It’s a menehuene luau with laulau

opelehu kalua pig and poi in Pahoa

Wild Wing –Avocet

from this week in June, 2000 (I was 55)

Wild Wing –Avocet

            A return to the course after a year’s layoff.  It is a sculpted

landscape with towering mounds and deep traps framed by thick

woodlands.  Molded obstacles traverse the fairways at unusual

angles.  Barrancas of native grasses, marsh growths and pond

crossings make for visual deception and difficulty gauging distances.

The Bermuda fairways held the ball high on a light bed, easy to divot,

but causing some fat hits especially with high irons and wedge shots.

The large greens, often 40-45 yards deep, were tiered and undulating.

The challenges are fair because options present themselves, and

occasional easier holes provide breathing space.  I felt fortunate to

card a 90 though I knew I could improve both strategy and execution.

The course has a fabricated beauty of elegant human design artfully

imposed on the natural landscape.  I like the course, especially the

fairways, and we will return to experience more of this four track

complex. 

River’s Edge

June 20, 2000 (I was 55)

                                    River’s Edge

            A scenic but painfully demanding Arnold Palmer Course with a

variety of narrowing fairways, large waste areas, thickets of trees,

unusually shaped greens, hidden traps to create apprehension, doubt

and indecision.  Excellent greens but spotty fairways and off-course

sections that need more time for landscaping to mature on this property

open less than a full year.  Still, in comparison with Thistle in its first

year last summer, it is lacking. 

            The holes are separated and secluded one from another, a nice

feature.  The front nine was relentless and unforgiving. The puzzling par

five ninth ended on a narrow green on a thin peninsula extending ninety

degrees and 120 yards into the marsh from the direction of the first two

shots. Hit as short as I do, even from the middle tees, and end up with

a ridiculously short lay up before crossing to the peninsula on my fourth

then leaking into the marsh approaching the green on the fifth. Do you

see that quad bogey coming?

            The back is also difficult and elusive but with three straight-

forward holes to offer some reprieve.  All in all, an exasperating under-

taking that would require multiple plays to solve and more to

appreciate.  This is the second Palmer course I’ve played, and neither

would I consider enjoyable challenges.  My impression of River’s Edge

is that a replay would not lead to improvement, but more likely, to new

ways to find trouble.  I shot a 93.  I have some tight muscles, but not

enough to blame them for bad shots and lousy putts.  Some courses

(Oyster Bay and Caledonia) took a while to love.  I don’t think it will

happen here.

Held upright on its stand the saxophone

March 20,2000  (I was 55)

Held upright on its stand the saxophone

could be a lavish pipe fitting

awaiting installation

under the sink of someone rich

melodious golden plumbing

to be played by breath of water

in cold staccato spurts

or a warm flow of languid notes

that everyone knows

comes straight from the eternal river

The scent of floral vegetation

August 4, 2000  (I was 55)

The scent of floral vegetation

that had hung in warm morning air

is dissipated by the ocean breeze

that also chases remnant cloud tissue

up the slope toward Mauna Loa

The laps of relaxing repetition lull

the senses into timelessness

Billfish Tournament boats pace the sea alleys

First the pair of magpie then the doves

make their rounds on the lawn

Cheryl does her languid morning crawl

flick plash forth and back across the pool

Hands of articulate palms practice

delicate gesture and reflective hula

both on the air and over the water

The charter dive boat bobs off the point

Swimmers join the flight circles of mantas

to feel the proximate terror of their mass

and the jolt of awareness

to perceive the self within the greater realm

The quiet pulse of surf plays the lava shore

while summer leaves to become summer

So goes the tropical pattern in days

of here and there over and under

until from the mountain the thunder        

Marsh Harbour G.C.

June 28, 2000  (I was 55)

Marsh Harbour G.C.   Calabash N.C. -morning

         Another great round at a course whose attraction is natural beauty unadorned and tamper free.  It is interesting that most guys in the group find this the most appealing course after playing such a variety of modern sculptured ones.  Architect Dan Maples’ best work seems to create interesting avenues for fairways among the trees and waterways with minimal disruption.  I like the thinned trees that define borders with scattered pine needles underneath as the primary rough.  Even with some spotty greens, apparently attacked by some type of fungus,  the scenic variety and the build-up to dramatic finishes on both nines makes this the best we played in terms of bang for the buck.  Sparse summer play by locals makes for the seclusion of a private club.

Sea Trail –Reese Jones Course  -afternoon

         Dan Bachelder and I stopped into the real estate office to pick up some brochures and spoke to an agent for less than 15 minutes.  When he learned we had a tee time, he called the pro shop and compt our round.  Nice.  After all the golf in the past weeks we were too tired to focus on serious play.  The day was warm, we were relaxed as we recalled memorable moments of the trip.  Dan Stevens came upon a six-foot alligator that eyed him from the lip of a fairway trap he was in.  After ignorant re-assurances from the rest of us, he hit the shot (quite well) as we took pictures.

Reclining Lady of Six-Eighty (5)

August 30

   Reclining Lady of Six-Eighty  (5)*

The days she remains invisible

behind walls of gray air

something substantial in me is obliterated

patched over with vague recollection

More real then is every daily revelation

of her form whether in pastel silhouette

or stark as Cezanne against the blue

and more remarkable in her vital reality

And the constant passive security posed

from turned face and breast

to open hips and rising thighs

unique in every light

causes me to consider her dreams

to be the fabric of the dawn

into which I move

and against which I disappear

*From a series written from 1998-2001 (I was 53-56)

all those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

August 6, 2000 (I was 55)

all those vowels in drumbeat rhythms

iki keiki alii mauka and makai

little regal children of the mountain and the sea

lolo pahoehoe and aa lomi lomi down Mauna Loa

both crazy rope lava and chunky stuff

massage the long mountain

it’s a menehuene luau with laulau

opelehu kalua pig and poi in Pahoa

Wild Wing –Avocet

from this week in June, 2000 (I was 55)

Wild Wing –Avocet

         A return to the course after a year’s layoff.  It is a sculpted

landscape with towering mounds and deep traps framed by thick

woodlands.  Molded obstacles traverse the fairways at unusual

angles.  Barrancas of native grasses, marsh growths and pond

crossings make for visual deception and difficulty gauging distances.

The Bermuda fairways held the ball high on a light bed, easy to divot,

but causing some fat hits especially with high irons and wedge shots.

The large greens, often 40-45 yards deep, were tiered and undulating.

The challenges are fair because options present themselves, and

occasional easier holes provide breathing space.  I felt fortunate to

card a 90 though I knew I could improve both strategy and execution.

The course has a fabricated beauty of elegant human design artfully

imposed on the natural landscape.  I like the course, especially the

fairways, and we will return to experience more of this four track

complex.

River’s Edge

June 20, 2000 (I was 55)

                           River’s Edge

         A scenic but painfully demanding Arnold Palmer Course with a

variety of narrowing fairways, large waste areas, thickets of trees,

unusually shaped greens, hidden traps to create apprehension, doubt

and indecision.  Excellent greens but spotty fairways and off-course

sections that need more time for landscaping to mature on this property

open less than a full year.  Still, in comparison with Thistle in its first

year last summer, it is lacking. 

         The holes are separated and secluded one from another, a nice

feature.  The front nine was relentless and unforgiving. The puzzling par

five ninth ended on a narrow green on a thin peninsula extending ninety

degrees and 120 yards into the marsh from the direction of the first two

shots. Hit as short as I do, even from the middle tees, and end up with

a ridiculously short lay up before crossing to the peninsula on my fourth

then leaking into the marsh approaching the green on the fifth. Do you

see that quad bogey coming?

         The back is also difficult and elusive but with three straight-

forward holes to offer some reprieve.  All in all, an exasperating under-

taking that would require multiple plays to solve and more to

appreciate.  This is the second Palmer course I’ve played, and neither

would I consider enjoyable challenges.  My impression of River’s Edge

is that a replay would not lead to improvement, but more likely, to new

ways to find trouble.  I shot a 93.  I have some tight muscles, but not

enough to blame them for bad shots and lousy putts.  Some courses

(Oyster Bay and Caledonia) took a while to love.  I don’t think it will

happen here.