January 6, 2013 (I was 68)
Wherever I have been I’m not quite there
there is always the place I just left
and the one I never get to
I’ve been detained in the woods
and lost in a cloud regretted the dreams
with accompanying schemes spoken aloud
When I look at them I’m among the stars
Out of sight in the daylight I find they’re out of mind
The more now to be done the less I can do
Satisfaction has no expectations it is
the now to be lost in the now to be
repeating the unlearned from my history
from this week in 2016 (I was 71)
Nothing good has a brain
Rocks are wonderful
Wood can be understood
whether it’s alive or dead
Who can doubt a raspberry
off its thorny bush
Some brainless things are bad
but ignorant of the fact
They must be judged by a bad brain
and the judgment affects them not
That with a brain must be evaluated from beyond
by something with a brain or worse
a plan gone terribly wrong
from this week in November, 2010 (I was 66)
If it was a test
I tried to do my best
just like all the rest
but if I had to guess of it
I’d say I made a mess of it
I always saw the jest
that gave tears their zest
When the bird left the nest
I took flight and headed west with it
where I guess I made a mess of it
Indistinct dreams are lost
when the pair of dice is tossed
Got symbols and signals crossed
and slogged through the cess of it
after I made a mess of it
November 15, 2012 (I was 68)
This dumb duck would take off
fly in a circle then splash down in the same place
swim in and out of the reeds
duck his head preen the plumes and take off
for another lap He seems to have forgotten
what other ducks know when they take flight
to wit which way to go He missed the flock
north in the spring fall in the south
In his tightening orbits over the pond
the dumb duck quacks after every take off
apparently surprised he knows how to fly
from this week in November, 2007 (I was 62)
Genius is not obvious in so many of us
and we know it before anyone else
So many of us adopt the guise of expert
which is what geniuses would become
if they focused I might be an expert
on licorice if I knew my anise from my extract
Many are those whose expertise is liquorish
The expert craftsman sells his craft
The expert sailor sails his craft
for the expert wholesaler who crafts a sale
and delivers the goods fit for the gods
to the expert and deserving do-gooders
among us focused but not obviously genius
November 4, 1973 (I was 28)
I live my machine life
dreaming of spare parts
printed circuits
and oh for an oil change
And even you
with your optional gagetry
You run me through
with your programmed dialogue
automatic transmission
Someone ought to pull our plugs
from this week in October, 2006 (I was 61)
There are times the microcosm gets kicked in
and all is awash in blood light
Anxious dread that it’s too late
to correct a mistake of exposed weakness
Futility looms in the rapid patchwork attempt
to construct a temporary defense
that may not work at all
but may make time to think of something better
Then the persistent fury abates
as if the resolve of the invading force weakens
The dams hold with seams leaking
and we take our breaths in relative calm
to consider major repair to our small craft
knowing it will never be enough for all that’s out there
from this week of September 28, 1977 (I was 32)
Minimalism in social survival keeps me on the edge
and sometimes just over.
Transportation breaks down and I’m a hermit.
The only fear in solitary existence
is its lack of creative responsibility.
Metaphor loses its amusement.
Personally, I am as fond of cliché,
and I soon take to drinking soup from the bowl.
September 18, 1999 (I was 54)
emigration
The borderline is unmarked, non-linear, invisible
First crossing finds confusions
also present in the homeland
familiar feelings of minor disorientation
escalate immediately beyond manageability
swallowed to the burning neck
in a quick sucking quagmire
that allows incoherent ranting
but pins limbs too fatigued to flail
then and most cruelly refuses
to finish the job
Reduction to hopeless despair
belches release upon the new shore
in a state of redefined nothingness
September 17, 2001 (I was 56)
I climbed the hills last Tuesday knowing
the airplane drone was gone from aum,
a profound absence in a brief lifetime.
I took undistracted notice of the birds.
I was occupied by the silence.
It has long been my habit to send
a prayer of simple recognition to souls
I happen to notice in aircraft overhead.
This sky was a pure blue of emptiness.
It was not the sky of the new world,
it was the heaven between worlds.
Again we lost an innocence
we did not know we had;
something we’ve done many times.
Tomorrow would be the first sky
to dawn upon an unfortunate century
where warring gods prove their fallibility,
or where man reflects the gold of daylight.
from this week in September, 1972 (I was 27)
Time is out of joint
might as well anoint my head
as even try to lift me from this bed
there is no point
Let’s you and I take a joint time out
Hope to shout hope to shout
join my groin in a groan
screw the phone Damn
I feel like a paper doll
that can’t get folded again
I tell you it’s out of joint
or I lost the point
You can’t put a cast on time
I tried that last time
Now I just run up the hill at night
(it’s outasight) bad back or not
I don’t know if there are more snakes out during the dark
but I sure as hell hear more still
I ain’t been bit yet
from this week in August, 1973 (I was 28)
It don’t mean nothing at all
I used to be funny
before I started making money.
The days were sunny
and my nose was runny.
Now I’m clean like a machine
I do what I do what I do
and I’d probly do it again
but I don’t know when.
Sometime back I started to think,
what a dink,
I shoulda skated around the rink.
Soon as you jump in you start to sink.
July 6, 1971 (I was 26)
That man manipulates Maya,
melts mistakes into his father’s generation,
makes his moment diminutive
by beginning today, tomorrow’s glory
or celebrating it’s promise
“This is the first day
of the rest of my life!”
Future paths are easily focused,
perspectives lay themselves out like blueprints.
The problem with illusion
has always been its lack of confusion.
From Lot to Dylan the advice is the same,
but that man doesn’t like being here
because he can’t remember how he came.
July 4, 2019 (I was 74)
Are These Connected?
Inversion is a first attempt at rejection
repudiation a word learned later
The difference between
I shall turn the world around and
I’ll kick the world in the ass
Ambition is always a case of eating
fast enough to avoid being eaten
Just because you can’t think of it right now
doesn’t mean you’ll think of it later
Sure I could say I’ll try to be nicer but
abrasion has its qualities
in eventually smoothing things out
so they can take the shine
The Poets’ Basketball team:
The Iambic Five
June 30, 2011 (I was 66)
Where are the stories of animals
struck by lightning?
Bolts down the throats of giraffes
flattened elephants
Sparks arcing between the poles of elk antlers
Dogs peeing on split trees
Animals electrically altered
to become more or less of what
they originally were
I hear of people getting hit
all the time
Any who survive are life-shaken
from this week in June, 1972 (I was 27)
loose ends
unfinished work
what happened to the maps
maybe they got left on the road
what the hell
all roads go somewhere
don’t they
show me your badge
say where and how for now
build the first cupboard in the chaos
where do you want the cheese
Is this a landscape or a portrait
open another pack of cigarettes
I never could strike a match on my ass
the fog is thicker than London
I’m tired of trying to cut it
where’s the wind
where are you
I’ve been out of touch so long
I look in the mirror
I step on the scale
I assume my pulse
I don’t know how Karloff does it night after night
May 31, 1975 (I was 30)
Change
Blink eyes turn pages switch books
Go through doors fall down
manholes climb ladders
get on vehicles
spin dizzy
do drugs
lie in white beds wrestle
get your teeth fixed grow a
garden record your pulse stretch
thigh muscles with daily calisthenics
Dream of your hometown
its streets snowy springs
driving automobiles out of another winter
Correspond with strangers whose functional
letters never let you forget how
they came to be written
Go on vacation
at home don’t vote whisper
sit on your jury and hear your case
Greet expediency embrace ambiguity
order a single scoop of vanilla
say not guilty and use your napkin
Mourn the athlete who had
no time to wear honor out Run
his track spikes daily over his grave
and over those old folks lying around it
Avoid bullets and strong tea
sodium bicarbonate is the practical antidote
and abstention is a better remedy
from this week in May, 2009 (I was 64)
The United States is falling apart
because I am falling apart
and I don’t think I’m going to get much better
I think about but do not sustain an effort
to regain physical fitness
I look at books that propose to redirect us
I don’t believe the matter is in the reader’s hands
Relationships are cold chipped and cracked
held together by homeostasis and habit
Like my country I don’t do much good
without expectation of better in return
Like me the country doesn’t travel well
We take way too much of our stuff with us
whenever we go someplace else
No place much better off for my being there
I’m inept at home repair
Hire someone who needs a job
later someone who can actually do it
Spend way too much money on stuff
we promise we will never use
Keep it in deep basements across the country
that cost more to maintain
than all the homes in my hometown
Officially we call it homeland security
I call it fear Bill collectors at the door
From this week in 2021 (I was 76)
You'd think the antelopes could eat the cantaloupes
But no they can't
You'd think the elephants would stomp the sycophants
But no they won't
You'd think the leopard had been peppered
But no he wasn't
You'd think the rabbit runs out of habit
But no he doesn't
You'd think the kangaroo should rue what it doesn't do
But no it don't
You'd think the cloud would cry out loud
And by thunder it does
March 9, 2021 (I was 76)
It's a dangerous country when you go out there
be sure you know who you're talking to
Just because you once were friends
doesn't mean you know how the story ends
It's a dangerous country when you take the dare
don't stir the stew like you used to
Just because you know where the river bends
doesn't mean you know where this story ends
