16F

A windowseat is great

In an all night diner

It was unfair the Airport

Shorted  me  enough

Stuffed me, a long-legged  man

With a long-winded rant

I stifled in my windowseat.

.

My legs were cropped up crinkled

Like the babies sitting next me

Their cries exited and were emitted freely

Some cries  deep inside  deep inside me.

.

I bet one windowseat would be great

In a darkened diner

My inner world would wander

That  eighteen  wheeler

Lots of legroom  not so tight

Roads to walk  upright

 

CommOnnuique’

While you come out and say

You might await some communique’

I might just wait some

To formulate  some take on

Raw data  streaming onto the tarmac

(Surreally As filmstrip spills off a reel)

This all filling files somewhere

There must be plenty

Taking place.

.

Night, when there might have been plenty

Taking place

I escaped unscathed, tho’ scattered

It remains to be seen & heard

If I would make  it matter

It can be  there may be  plenty

Taking place.

.

.

.

(from 2012)

GUTS FOR LOVE (revisited)

 

REFUSING  DAWN  and    GUTS  FOR  LOVE

i)
I can Recognize, but hell,  I can’t Realize so well.
I’d drink more coffee but my cardiologist insists I don’t
I’d drink more coffee but my heart man prescribes “not so smart, man”.

I’d think more whiskey would push me to bask at last in a primal light,

but my general practitioner generally frowns about practicing until I get it right.

I’d read more but eyes see less.. I digress,

I’d come 2/pray more/give in/give more/dream-sleep in/weep for once/

walk the lit dark like I used to/ take the darklight I’ve refused to.

I can Recognize, but hell,

I don’t Realize so well.

.

.

ii)

Right away I’ve forgiven

What I’ve been given.

I might say I’ll take it

What I might now have.

I’ve taken my lot, my vacant lot.

And I’ll water down the ardent growths

That break through spots, my weakest spots.

I’ll wander down the advent of loss.

I’ll instill my wander  with intent.

I’ll start to still instill my wander with intent.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(from 2009 & 2010)

 

 

 

“If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world,

you’re heart breaks regularly” -Andrew Harvey

since I’ve always remedied the conscious agonies of knowing the world is filled with misery with a simple

but there is beauty in the world.

a child smiles in one of those shopping cart seats in a grocery store, one of those secret connection smiles,simple innocent soul to burdoned soul and I’m AOK for a moment.

 

 

 

presentation appreciation

Swallow

& Tho’ I’m so tightlipped sometime

I’ve often a soft spoken voice

I’ll go take this choice  this time

Pretend what’s set  went off

What followed

Got flat out

Presented

I could concur  then

Consent

My  “Amen”

Impalpable

Neruda’s ” impalpable ash”

Chants away/

In the fray of my own tiny ruins.

.

“If I touch/ near the fire/

Impalpable ash..”

Chimes away/

And supports the clearing away  all

Insubstantial,

Makes way to take less blinding steps away

From  cave  to  climax

I’ve come to have left out

Crucial  rescue  tools

From my matutinal

Lost-combination locked bag of tricks.

In touch  information

Out

How Then The Heavens Poured

Should I get older

I recognize me,  more blind,

Crinking my neck back, there, as

I look up at the cliff terrace

And A windowed hideaway behind,

Not so unapproachably high,

Fixed over our Pacific, finally,

That we thought might couldn’t be.

Hard rain, hell, wept down a wet

that mixes well w/regret, on my shirt

.

                                                  2

.

One can look past all our four shoulders

From inside the glass wall

On the backside of our Adirondacks

And maybe just make out

What we’re watching and talking about.

A man closely following his own footsteps

The long stretch of the shore,

But looked up at the both of us,

Here Hand in hand, and how then the heavens poured.

To The Moon, The Far End Of My Driveway

Even I’m

Silent Partner in this stronghold.

Before I go on,

I’ll go on & make sure

The blinds are drawn.

.

.

When I’m

Aware/Awake It’s gone cold,

For me to know it,

I’ll go on & need you some

I’ll go on & remind me some

I’ll go and turn my life down some

I’ll sit myself down until

I’ll see myself still enough

To behold

You, me, both,

Silent partners in this stronghold.