Tuesday, January 31, 2012

With The Jugglers








































With The Jugglers

We all need the fool
to dance the edge of the world
ahead of our song,
the two dogs as well,
who snuff up future's long scent
and give back the pace
we take as we go.

We shall be jugglers of want
and of need, tangled,
marbled fat with meat,
with dreams and the grand high art
of crimson, of spice.

February 28, 2010 9:31 AM


Monday, January 30, 2012

Small Stone #30

The Wee Folk of Eilenburg Castle in Saxony celebrate a marriage.


Who Knew This Would Happen

The veil between worlds
is torn now. The small folk peer
around this corner.

January 30, 2012 7:34 AM

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Small Stone #29


I Saw You On TV

Your kind touch - you lie
with me if I'm a lucky
man - oh I see stars!

**************

There is more than one way to read the word "lie". I intend at least two of them. :D

Small Stone #28

It Is Ever Thus

And still her children
wanted to play in the park
one more time, just one.

‎January ‎27, ‎2012 4:20 AM

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Small Stone #27

Betelgeuse As Seen From A Hypothetical Planet
Due For Incineration In The Coming Storm

News Item, sometime soon: Today the star Betelgeuse, the upper left star of the constellation Orion, went supernova. It is no longer one of the largest of the red giants. Instead it is rapidly collapsing into a neutron star and the core will no longer be easily visible to the naked eye. Of course the remnant of the supernova will slowly change and fade for quite a long time. All across the world astrophysicists are having a heyday taking measures after measures. They were alerted early this morning, local time, when a storm of neutrinos and antineutrinos tripped the detectors and the source pointed back to Betelgeuse. The timing was perfect and many principle supernova observatories on the night side had time to align themselves with the upcoming event. The light began arriving just three hours later. Neutrinos come first because they are virtually massless and are not affected much by gravity or anything else. Even light must struggle to reach the surface of a star from within it because of the density and mass opposing it's travel. This is what accounts for the neutrinos' early arrival.

Of course, we must recall that Betelgeuse is some 640 light years distant and this means that the events of today are 640 years old and "actually" happened back in 1372 AD.

This evening, Astrophysicist Jeremy Pinchot wrote in his journal:

Ringing The Bell

Neutrinos sparking
in the heavy water tell
supernova tales
before the light comes
and a good thing too this is,
early news of things,
like you telling me
at long last you do love me
after all, thank God!

January 26, 2012 6:10 PM


(This post could not have happened without the nudge from Ethan Siegel and his latest post to his blog, Starts With A Bang. If you like things like this then please go there for the real thing.)

Gimme Shelter



Here's a grand video produced by "Playing For Change" who have gathered around the vision of attaining peace through music. This kind of effort cannot happen without the internet so God Bless the Internet and God Bless the technicians and musicians who participate. May peace come that much closer as you get the idea of global musicians playing with each other across the world.

An old friend, a musician, Richard by name tipped me to this. There are many other songs posted at the Playing For Change website.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Small Stone #26


Thom writes:
"Each week, I post three words. You write something using the words. Then come back and post a link to the contribution with Mr. Linky (but please, link to the exact post, not your blog, by clicking on the exact post title and paste it to Mr. Linky below). As always, there's no hard-and-fast rule that you have to post on Wednesday."

*click here* to visit this week's Three Word Wednesday

The three words Thom chose are: Bubble, Lumber (as a verb), and Wreck (either verb or noun).

In local news:
"An elephant was spied today wandering the city's landfill. No one knows where it has come from. It is not yet determined who has jurisdiction nor what to do. Some have said that the elephant was overheard to mutter and grumble strangely as if chanting."

The Elephant's Chant

I don't know from trash,
from ash, bubble or wreck
what comes next as I
just lumber along.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Small Stones #25

Against The Wall

What will keep me kind
in the middle of the mean
sting of hot hot tears?

It's fading all too soon
looking for something more than
the rain, how it falls.



Here is a gift song from one of the women who have my heart, Dar Williams. I recommend nearly any song she has written. So here are two stones for Dar, taken as I needed and have now given back. (0) (0)



Small Stone #24

An Old Story

I have lost the fire.
Now I must push my luck back
up the stony hill.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Small Stone #23

There Was Sweet Grass

When are you coming
home? This town is dry dust now,
Please, I take it back.

********************

There. Caught up.

Small Stone #22

Weather Report

Windy and warm but
if I told you, you would not
believe me, not now.

Small Stone #21

Reminded Of John

I'm not the only
dreamer, the world as one world,
true love at the door
a stash of warm guns
puffing happy rings of smoke.

**************

For me the Beatles were one. John solo, Paul solo, George solo, Ringo... Even with new bands, they did not measure up to the sheer amazing genius they handed to me personally in their psychedelic years. But then I like complexity far too much, perhaps.

Bluegrass blows me away too.

However, when John was killed my heart broke in a unique way, proving how he bonded me to him in his soul and his success - and I couldn't hate his killer. I understood how John could make people crazy let alone abet pre-existing insanity.


Small Stone #20

I Need To Practice

Attachments dangle
from piercings all over me
causing dripping skin
and clouded vision.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Small Stone #19

Surviving The Black Death

To my knees, my grace
fallen into erosions
left by bugs beneath
the gripe of my crackled voice.

*****************

I have been unable to do much other than keep myself fed and clean for most of a week. I am climbing out of the pit now.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Small Stone #18

The Gainer

This itch pulls my brain
to dive deep no matter how
much the cost may be.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Small Stone #17

Under Water

I'm gravid, drowning
in the bitter of old dreams,
pining for a bit
of the noonday sun.



Thanks to Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tales and Jason deCaires Taylor for the idea.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Small Stone #16

A Decisive Moment

I have delivered
the razor's slash as if there
was a dragon's egg.


Sunday, January 15, 2012

From The Central Committee

From "Silent Evolution" by Jason deCaires Taylor, courtesy Tess Kincaid's Mag 100

Wiki says:
"Jason deCaires Taylor (born 12 August 1974) is an English sculptor specialising in the creation of contemporary underwater sculptures which over time develop into artificial coral reefs. Taylor integrates his skills as a conservationist, underwater photographer and scuba diving instructor to produce unique installations that encourage the habitation and growth of corals and marine life."

He's been very busy. One of Jason's sites *click here*

From The Central Committee

We have all come here
to stand around and ponder
why we do all this
as if that would change
the unwashed odor we know
and the legacy
already staining
the sky above the surface
and those who swim near.

We promise to stand,
to let corals grow on us,
to give this color
back to the gray world
we have left heavy on you
who still live in air.

January 15, 2012 10:23 AM


Written for "The Mag 100" *click here* to visit the site



Small Stone #15

Out Of The Fire

The play of your words,
dragon scales across the wind,
fully hot blooded.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Small Stone #14

Gardening

I received your tree,
planted a kiss in the sky,
watched it grow feathers.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Small Stone #13

The Demand

You wrote love me right
across my back, using your
index finger nail.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Small Stone #12

Double Oh Six And A Half

We got the skinny,
the whispers, rumors, sneaking
around as if spies
on the run again.


Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Small Stone #11


It's A Cold Morning

I approach you from behind,
you with your hand axe,
another blow shaving wood.
Your hair escapes to hang loose.

January 8, 2012 5:15 AM

Fearing The Plague


Thom writes:
"Each week, I post three words. You write something using the words.

Then come back and post a link to the contribution with Mr. Linky (but please, link to the exact post, not your blog, by clicking on the exact post title and paste it to Mr. Linky below). As always, there's no hard-and-fast rule that you have to post on Wednesday."

This week the words are:
Brutal; Sullen; Trust

To connect with the site, *click here*

Wiki writes: "The Outback is the vast, remote, arid area of Australia, term colloquially can refer to any lands outside the main urban areas. The term "the outback" is generally used to refer to locations that are comparatively more remote than those areas named "the bush".

"The outback is home to a diverse set of animal species, such as the kangaroo, emu and dingo. The Dingo Fence was built to restrict dingo movements into agricultural areas towards the south east of the continent. The marginally fertile parts are primarily utilised as rangelands and have been traditionally used for sheep or cattle grazing, on cattle stations which are leased from the Federal Government. While small areas of the outback consist of clay soils the majority has exceedingly infertile palaeosols. Riversleigh, in Queensland, is one of Australia's most renowned fossil sites and was recorded as a World Heritage site in 1994. The 100 km2 (39 sq mi) area contains fossil remains of ancient mammals, birds and reptiles of Oligocene and Miocene age."


Fearing The Plague

Let's not be brutal,
tearing skin away to bleed
across the dry sand
of the far outback
nor find the sullen dirty
sky above our shame.
Instead we shall trust
this fence to keep the snaggle
toothed vermin away.

January 11, 2012 4:29 AM


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Small Stone #10

In Monasteries
They Use Bamboo Slats


Can I shock you up?
Can I reach past the gravel
and plant in the loam?
Won't you see? That's all
I ask, if you'll fucking see.


Monday, January 9, 2012

Small Stone #9

It's All Timing

Death keeps an orchard
just for me he says, hoping
I will visit soon.
I'm thinking not yet.



Sunday, January 8, 2012

Yearning For Change

Image from Lee Friedlander's work in the streets of New York
courtesy of Tess Kincaid at The Mag (Mag 99)

This one is an honest recounting of inner life in my own childhood.

Since Tess has written a similar poem I must wonder how many children of a certain age saw in Yul a father figure.

In my case the line of his face and his stern appearance plus his baldness added up to my dad in simple enough ways that allowed me to fantasize about another life. The travail in my life came from my own soul sickness (no matter where it came from) and then from social backwardness because of the isolation my illness caused.

My parents were decent and sophisticated folk, teachers, and they had my best interests at heart. They loved me as best they could. I yearned for a different set of circumstances, a feeling that persisted unrelenting from at least second grade on and came to a head in my adolescence. It peaked at the age of nineteen and nearly killed me.

How I survived my crisis, which involved yet another bout of illness at its start, a meningitis I caught at Fort Ord in 1964 is a complex story. I knew I was dying from age nineteen, a stress that lasted two years, and when I was "saved" at age 21 I knew that too, though I went mad at salvation's beginning. I went mad because the reframings caused by my inner changes were too radical to fit within my adolescent structure and I shattered in the key events. "All you need is love". Hah! Yes indeed, but beware.

In those days I could not talk about any of this. I did not have the words. In fact I have never really felt I have the words and don't still. Not really. That's why poetry and mythical story telling work best.

Yearning For Change

In all the other
ways I could think of to change
who or where I was
one was my dad as
someone else, as Yul Brynner.
My dad looked like him
to me though not to
others that much I must say.
I was a pale child.

January 8, 2012 1:23 PM

Small Stone #8

Later We Moved Away

Why we swam in crap
I'm not sure, polluted streams
were the only ones
we knew in those days.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Small Stone #7

Making Up

Silk upon your silk
slippery sweet after all
the strife has ended.

Friday, January 6, 2012

Small Stone #6

That Special Ache

Her nose filled with scent,
the dog peers beyond the park
to yearn for passing
cars on the highway.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Small Stone #5

Life After Life

Once we were soldiers
in combat. You killed me then.
I will forgive you
in some longer life.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The Torture Garden, Three Word Wednesday

Shunan Bamboo Forest, China


Thom writes
"Each week, I post three words. You write something using the words. Then come back and post a link to the contribution with Mr. Linky (but please, link to the exact post, not your blog, by clicking on the exact post title and paste it to Mr. Linky below). As always, there's no hard-and-fast rule that you have to post on Wednesday. I invite everyone to check back often to read and comment on other contributions."
This week's words:
Naughty
Tactic
Zenith

For this week's Three Word Wednesday, *click here*

I must remark at this point that "naughty" is an interesting attitudinal word. It is literally "of the zero", that is, using "naught" in that mathematical sense. English relates that idea to immorality or bad behavior. Thus it is that hidden in the idea of "naughty" is the judgment that to outlaw oneself over moral behavior is to become a zero socially.

I find it really interesting that at least in American society the idea of "naughty" has gotten a cachet, especially in sexual matters, such that now "bad is good". "Oh she's such a naughty girl," is a great example. Another is when a girl responds flirtatiously to a male's advance, "You naughty boy!"

The Torture Garden

I receive bamboo
at this point, receive the frond,
the naughty sliver
under my thumbnail
that is your tactic this day
as the sun climbs up
to its bright zenith,
exposing my nudity
and the bloody stripes
you leave across me.

January 4, 2012 5:07 AM

Hokokuji Bamboo Forest, Kamakura, Japan

Small Stone #4

Different Strokes

We sure are of two
different sorts, you and I.
I won't cut my hair.
You won't go to Crete.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Small Stone #3

Global Warming

The jasmine asks me,
"where's the frost, the ice and snow?"
The crocuses gave
notice, moving north.

January 2, 2012 11:40 AM
Posted January 3, 2012 no matter what blogger says :P

The Morning After

The River, Marina Moevs, 2005
The photo courtesy Tess at Magie Tales

The Morning After

I'm a lucky man.
What a ride. The hangover
is huge and my bed's
a wreck and I hate
climbing over wrack and goo
to get out of there
after the downstream
tumble but the water's gone
down and I'm still here,
proving one more time
that God loves sloppy old drunks
and worn out old fools.

January 2, 2012 8:39 AM

Written for Magpie Tales *click here*

Small Stone #2

Loneliness

I let my dope run
out. Now what?

January 2, 2012 8:01 AM

Sunday, January 1, 2012

The First Small Stone

Elsewhere The War Continues

Halfway to Mount Hood
in the forest a small stone
gleams in the river
after my spinning
sidearm cast, four skips before
coming to its rest.

January 1, 2012 1:56 PM

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