I used to think I was close

 

February 2, 2002  (I was 57)

 

I used to think I was close

making the starting backfield

getting an undergraduate degree

leaving the putt an inch short

persistent enough to fill enough pages

while keeping my day job my real job

I was not getting there directly

but systematically eliminating error by trial

eventually erasing shortcomings

Technique is not necessarily refined by repetition

Knowledge may fill a vacuum

but the vacuum does not discriminate

and thoughts sucked up in smoke

may just cloud up the void

I used to think in terms of daily increments

compounded interest service station refills

Reviews of restaurants

were elements of directions that led somewhere

haute cuisine

I had thought to gain continuity

a performance of perfunctory tasks

I saw as a worth of measurable comfort

Wrong-headed misapplied and un-ambitious

the ideas the tasks the goals

Self-delusional assessments now recognized

embitter my demeanor  

A salvation if I could find the will to pursue it

lies in the recognition of accomplished lives

outside my little room 

without wind its scent emanates

 

October 28, 2002  (I was 57)

 

without wind its scent emanates

unseen it enters the light

soundlessly it vibrates existence

lacking surface or texture it expands

like the taste of salt

under the tongue and into the blood

it is the minimalism that becomes one

a restrictive essence not the other

the this of a succession of nows

the definition of the word

and the consciousness of self

the fruition the expression the realization

of the so much more beyond

the doubt of insignificance

knowing both past and future are then

 

I used to think I was close

February 2, 2002  (I was 57)

I used to think I was close

making the starting backfield

getting an undergraduate degree

leaving the putt an inch short

persistent enough to fill enough pages

while keeping my day job my real job

I was not getting there directly

but systematically eliminating error by trial

eventually erasing shortcomings

Technique is not necessarily refined by repetition

Knowledge may fill a vacuum

but the vacuum does not discriminate

and thoughts sucked up in smoke

may just cloud up the void

I used to think in terms of daily increments

compounded interest service station refills

Reviews of restaurants

were elements of directions that led somewhere

haute cuisine

I had thought to gain continuity

a performance of perfunctory tasks

I saw as a worth of measurable comfort

Wrong-headed misapplied and un-ambitious

the ideas the tasks the goals

Self-delusional assessments now recognized

embitter my demeanor  

A salvation if I could find the will to pursue it

lies in the recognition of accomplished lives

outside my little room 

without wind its scent emanates

October 28, 2002  (I was 57)

without wind its scent emanates

unseen it enters the light

soundlessly it vibrates existence

lacking surface or texture it expands

like the taste of salt

under the tongue and into the blood

it is the minimalism that becomes one

a restrictive essence not the other

the this of a succession of nows

the definition of the word

and the consciousness of self

the fruition the expression the realization

of the so much more beyond

the doubt of insignificance

knowing both past and future are then

his chanting

June 1, 2002  (I was 57)

         his chanting

Reverberating alternating current

between his upper and lower teeth

sending vibrations through the Eustachian

to rattle the tympanum

and set a tingle within the inner ear

And again a reflexive breath of aspirated relief

Now abbreviating the vowel

and briefly humming the consonant

he would forcefully sound through the nose

then draw a quick inspiration and sneeze

also directed through the nostrils

Then another aspiration of repose

From this stage of progression

the soundings took varied direction

soft and hardly audible

or melodious after a fashion

voluminous as was his inclination

to conclude when the end presented itself

Jesus would chant aum in a small room

or in a cave; never in the open

unless he was off unattended

In the presence of others he chanted

only to provide example of his practice

He did not profess a doctrine

present a parable

nor teach a lesson

I used to think I was close

February 2, 2002  (I was 57)

I used to think I was close

making the starting backfield

getting an undergraduate degree

leaving the putt an inch short

persistent enough to fill enough pages

while keeping my day job my real job

I was not getting there directly

but systematically eliminating error by trial

eventually erasing shortcomings

Technique is not necessarily refined by repetition

Knowledge may fill a vacuum

but the vacuum does not discriminate

and thoughts sucked up in smoke

may just cloud up the void

I used to think in terms of daily increments

compounded interest service station refills

Reviews of restaurants

were elements of directions that led somewhere

haute cuisine

I had thought to gain continuity

a performance of perfunctory tasks

I saw as a worth of measureable comfort

Wrong-headed misapplied and un-ambitious

the ideas the tasks the goals

Self-delusional assessments now recognized

embitter my demeanor  

A salvation if I could find the will to pursue it

lies in the recognition of accomplished lives

outside my little room 

without wind its scent emanates

October 28, 2002  (I was 57)  

without wind its scent emanates

unseen it enters the light

soundlessly it vibrates existence

lacking surface or texture it expands

like the taste of salt

under the tongue and into the blood

it is the minimalism that becomes one

a restrictive essence not the other

the this of a succession of nows

the definition of the word

and the consciousness of self

the fruition the expression the realization

of the so much more beyond

the doubt of insignificance

knowing both past and future are then

his chanting

June 1, 2002  (I was 57)

         his chanting

Reverberating alternating current

between his upper and lower teeth

sending vibrations through the Eustachian

to rattle the tympanum

and set a tingle within the inner ear

And again a reflexive breath of aspirated relief

Now abbreviating the vowel

and briefly humming the consonant

he would forcefully sound through the nose

then draw a quick inspiration and sneeze

also directed through the nostrils

Then another aspiration of repose

From this stage of progression

the soundings took varied direction

soft and hardly audible

or melodious after a fashion

voluminous as was his inclination

to conclude when the end presented itself

Jesus would chant aum in a small room

or in a cave; never in the open

unless he was off unattended

In the presence of others he chanted

only to provide example of his practice

He did not profess a doctrine

present a parable

nor teach a lesson