Sunday, April 27, 2008

35. Letters Of Transist

You have got to get out!

To do this you
must start searching for
the Letters of Transit that will allow you
to leave the foreign country you
have created in yourself.

The search begins with forgetting
that which needs forgetting.
The search continues with forgetting
the I, that interfering logjam,
the I-jam, that creates internal pain
causing you to create external pain.

Those tattered thoughts of broken aspirations
built around the requirements of others,
little hungers controlling your life.
Anxious continuums exerting sublime forces,
displaying hunger, desire, resignation.
Go-nows, see-alls, step-ups, fall-downs.

Learn to enjoy your own simple pleasures––
then, of course, you must begin
working on your Bono Fides.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

34. Why I Read Poetry

The view of a stranger defining me
at left angles to my right,
causing me to avoid movements
that shrink into rinky-dink abstractions.

Pushing me to hunker down
and keep on growing. To mash the button.

Create your "list of executive deeds just and unjust".
Wrap them around and around, tighter and tighter,
avoiding endless conclusions.
Learning of "the power of personality".

That's all I wanted to say.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

33. Backyard Sitting

Backyard sitting.
Book reading.
Sun feeling.

Up looking.
Kitchen seeing.
Wife seeing.

Down reading.
Up looking.
Wife be-goneing

Down reading.
Up looking.
Son sitting.

Down reading.
Up looking.
Son be-goneing

What magic, these creatures.
Image burning.
Mind living.
Appearing, disappearing.

Together we disappear.
As in here.
As in there.
As in gone.

Our lives are constructed,
defined, joined
by the presence of others.
Looking out, looking in.

Here, there, gone.
And always with us.

Loving these creatures is enough.

Monday, April 7, 2008

32. A Dream Epiphany

David and Kathie are dead.
They stand looking at each other in an isle of infinite length.
On one side a counter with strangers sitting and eating.
On the other side card tables filled with stuff,
odds and ends, a trillion tables deep.

Their choice; sit at the lunch counter and eat forever
or browse through the tables forever looking.

But!, and here's the catch,
standing in the isle looking at each other
if they ever turn away and not see each other
they will never again see each other ever again, forever
through the remainder of eternity, the end of infinity.

They look, laugh.
This is not good enough.
Not acceptable.
Pound the counter.
Knock over the tables.