REFUSING THE DAWN

September 28, 2019

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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 in the dark light. I’ve so far refused to.

I can Recognize, but hell,

I don’t Realize so well.

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(FROM AT LEAST A DECADE BACK)

CONSCIOUS STALL

September 24, 2019

People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”
― Carl Jung 

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“Under the willow tree I hide my mirror,

small enough to be mistaken for morning dew.

I look for a point of origin, something to explain how and why

we all must see it through.”          

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C O N S C I O U S   S T A L L

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Encased  in  impasse,

I couldn’t even eye the other passengers

Past my papers.

I wouldn’t watch what

My window offered:

Small towns, & all their lights,

Reflections, inside, of us riding passersby.

We keep on sweeping by.

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Inspecting  these all  aspects of my work,

Taking stock,   this stall  is a lock still.

I, Y’see, yesterday’s night

I ran nine yellow lights,

& Just as there were dares that didn’t time out right

I’ll just decide  to still ride

 

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the sublime opening verse is from my favorite online poet

Allison Grayhurst, from “Eating From An Imaginary Spoon”  https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/168535/posts/1567304886

 

 

TRAINAMY

 

 

 

 

I SHOULD DO…AH CHOO

September 18, 2019

Photo by Victor Talashuk (unsplash)

I SHOULD DO… AH CHOO

 

On every dawn
I’ll strive to stake out time
To pick up a pen

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I’ll squint out the light
Go over my piano
At first, and again

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I’ll pull down the shade
Thus I can practice my art
At first, and again

from “The Seventh Victim”

in honor of the (bad)Dreamland of Val Lewton

who blocked out such fear-laden imagery in his Noir

(OH  Chiaroscuro!) & also succeeded. I think, in blocking out that golden hour that film makers look for,near dusk,

when the light is just right to clearly convince us all, on film

“There’s Beauty, There’s Good, There’s Hope.”

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.                                            HER  SHADOWS

When the time is right

The camera Artist  blocks out,

Frames, focuses, re crops,

To go  on his very own shadow chocked shot

Oh, he shapes the shadows for

Her, a  ruined running fear-filled fatale

who can only be, somehow logically, lured  into her shadows

(within an illogical hidden zoo)

Where at least one beast pursues her

fast footsteps,furiously echo just farther back in the dark

synchopated chasesteps/ high heels on one end of wet streets, & pursuit

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She must be drawn to

She must be lured to

She must fold into

Saving Grace shadows

T R A N C E

August 9, 2019

For you, I send strength,

Forbearance, and the trance of strength.

We’ll strive, well into our lives.

We’re aching…one more hour of strength.

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All the while, we’re ailing.

We’re back some, after each skirmish,

Some steps further from the endgame of the solace

From  embraces  within  darknesses.

As serviceman march, returning to a homeland,

All yearning…safe embraces in their homeland.

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For us, I accept strength,

Forbearance, and the trance of strength.

We’ll strive, well into our lives, together.

We’re asking…one more day of strength.

We plea..one more day of strength.

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

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…”)

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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

 

 

AGAINST DARK

June 30, 2018

Perhaps it’s our cats
but I hear somebody sobbing
I swear
The sun hasn’t risen to rinse things
& I lock the door.
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I’m steadily still intent on
Instilling something graceful
On all my faces
I’ll force & offer up
Some strong move
Something Nureyev

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for Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber

SDARK BEAUTY

June 18, 2018

 

“We’ll know as children again all that we are destined to know, that the water is cold and deep, and the sun penetrates only so far.”
– Jim Harrison

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SDARK   BEAUTY

If you’re tired to talk

If it’s too late for listening

My little time to tell you

But I think I just must tell you both

My dreams were dark   no  darker

Much darker than your bedroom

I’m afraid and I need to tell you

I want to tell you to hug me

And to let me under your blankets.

One morning I saw you and they were off

I stood  and  stared

You were the very best thing I ever saw

Both of you were so good  I cried.

I don’t want to wake you

Just my little time to tell you  both

My dreams were dark  no  darker.

 

 

for mom & daddy

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( Rockwell Kent, “The Lovers” 1928 wood engraving on paper)
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