G A U G E S

September 11, 2018

 

 

“Life is short, and Art long; the crisis fleeting; experience perilous, and decision difficult.” -Hippocrates

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.“In the fog you are sheltered against the outside world, face to face with your inner self. Nebulat ergo cogito.” (fog therefore I think) -Umberto Eco
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There’s fog.
Then, there’s people landing planes at all hours.
There’s dogs chasing birds
on runways. And one way those people in those towers
can plan to, and see to, land planes is
the guts to go with the gauges.
They heartfelt  dealt with data,
Trusted all they’d seen
on their farforeign &; onlyman-made monitor screen.
As dogs flushed their fog,
hands hover over lights
and cover their old bets,
their usual action.
,
, from 2009

NEW DEAL

September 2, 2018

If our fog lifts

Like tired old myths

The ones “old salts”

Sing about at seaside public vaults

Never locked  They’re never locked

It’s best. I better work this new deal

The wording has wounds, needs doctoring

How long will you allow me here?

If our fog lifts

My table and window will clear.

 

F L I N T

August 30, 2018

In the “quiet time” the hospital designates

When visitors gotta go

Ok so I opened a Modelo

& vacuumed the space between the davenport

& the coffee table where you like us to eat

& dared some dreams of arson

Oh I sat easy enough at one half of a love seat

I wouldn’t want  to reread Kant

On  Duty  and  Obligation

I’d doubt he’d sway me

His hard ass way

The escape  dreams prefer are fire escapes

 

Go get only things you can carry

Stand up straight  Cast straight shadows

One effin  flick of flint

Can  brighten  bad  roads

 

 

a bad fall at the stables

August 28, 2018

this disastrous matter is
unexpected of course
a bad fall at the stables
the first thing you whispered to my ear on your chest
once the breathing apparatuses were out
was that  it wasn’t LB’s fault

I’ll have you home alone for some time.
for now I’ll go home alone
Another old thing
I might say  I might tope me some

it might this night help me cope some
another old thing
I’ll bust out hope  just a modicum

BREATHING EXERCISES

August 11, 2018

She won’t roll away & not watch me.

Y’see, I won’t seem to take…

When I dream (or wake),

To take another breath before

The scene fades, before

Lights go up,

Then down to more of a zoom.

She waits in our bedroom for me to resume.

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II.

We went to go to a yoga class.

Where a barefooted, hair-pleated group leader;

Beautiful, and calmer than a

Merciful last coma,

She insisted that our deep breath is

The gist of all of it (within, & out).

We rearrange the short & tall of it.

The Gist to change the depth, see,

Of our sea of possibility.

When we inhale

We re-memorize our own gods.

We exhale our hell. barefoot. on a mat.

Whew. To that.

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III.

When I get to go to the Gulf of Mexico

I’ll try out the drink, 1st thing.

I’ll try not to think when I try to let go

& sink when I deadman’s float all day,

Into what I think of as a spiritual drift, in a way.

I’ll hold onto my own breath,

Face down,

Head down.

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P L A I N F A C E

August 9, 2018

I just thought of this

I go to a florist

I’ll ask her

Is it daisies or dahlias (or asters),

Which bunch do they

(I’ve a hunch) best convey

My perplexed P.O.V…

“I’ve no control/On how it will roll”?

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I’d get such a look

From the florist who’d jest

“I’ll check in my book”.

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I’d get daisies. They’re best.

An honest, plain face is best.

Anonymous, this I attained from anonymous tests

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https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/how-flowerobsessed-victorians-encoded-messages-in-bouquets

BESIDE A LIGHTHOUSE

August 7, 2018

All my daddies looked down to me
One daddy is asea
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First fogs sound off as if
Birdsong was it’s voice
I meant like all lighthouses yearn
Intent on seeing inside the fog
For anything but distraction
I’m no lack for that at home
I’m straining out my eyes, & hand too
For something right to fill in
Something tonight to fill in

S I D E D O O R

July 23, 2018

I’ve got it.

If I  got floating.

I can float forever.

(“and when I want to act…”)

I can float forever & a day.

It’s harder than it looks.

Don’t be taken in by talk gone bad.

(“and when I want to act”)

there’s an exit stage  left

 

 

ENNUI DANCE

July 20, 2018

“And this is the simple truth–that to live is to feel oneself lost” – Soren Kierkegaard

G L I M P S E
A trance makes its appearance here  as
placid lakes pull fog up tight,
elsewhere perfect light there
sets to subtle sonatas
for Dance,
for ponderance and if
tucked not too loud  in a cloud. tonight
if OK  I guess I may  get my own drift.
Or glance.
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.                                                                                                        (old rhyme in a box,2008)
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s t I N K
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of all the lies
in the air
that this liar
is truly unaware of
(is ’truly’ the right word?)
of all the lies
casual and caressing there
the air currents n
night blooming jasmine
(is ’current’ the correct word?)
My golden ones have come from…
(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)
emboldened lies, all born, I imagine,
from an open pen draining onto pages,
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from nothing.
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I’VE IVORY
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Shiny gold pen when an old
Shade-off light bulb
(it can be a candle)
Best Klieg-lights this crèche ,
Best showcases this birthplace.
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On my knees
To lure verities, (surely, scour our trees)
To cure maladies,
Wrest fallacies from unsound foundations,
Whisper one less lonely
Wise, recognizable incantation.
Take this shiny gold pen…!
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It’s nearby, go forth, go further.
I clear my path,
& Go over…
& I’ve Ivory!
Simba’ s mammoth cemetery!
(they must go in deep)
Precious sunned bones poised on as symbols
Archetexture actually
I take a sacred see of symmetry

 

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