Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
preparing dinner in a glass pot
through transparent crustal plates
we can see the inner workings of the planet
roiling rock, blue darting flames
plutons rising and descending like parachutes
we can see the inner workings of the planet
roiling rock, blue darting flames
plutons rising and descending like parachutes
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
praying
we came to praise
so our voices, herded together
could plead your reality down
to walk here among us
in justice and wisdom
we're somehow not able
to conjure up for ourselves
all the sadness banished
the yearning quenched
your light to wander among us
in sudden new landscapes
of joy and acceptance
and unending wonders
that our eyes, cured of darkness
would now be able to see
so our voices, herded together
could plead your reality down
to walk here among us
in justice and wisdom
we're somehow not able
to conjure up for ourselves
all the sadness banished
the yearning quenched
your light to wander among us
in sudden new landscapes
of joy and acceptance
and unending wonders
that our eyes, cured of darkness
would now be able to see
(for the children)
very soon
probably today
someone will want you to be
smarter, quicker, straighter, taller
hairier, prettier, stickier, smaller
stumpier, less willowy
bony-er, less pillowy
smilier, curlier, burlier, meaner
pricklier, sillier, lighter, cleaner
(did I forget anything?)
well, do what you must
but what the world really needs
is for you to be more...more...
what was your name again?
yes. you. more you.
probably today
someone will want you to be
smarter, quicker, straighter, taller
hairier, prettier, stickier, smaller
stumpier, less willowy
bony-er, less pillowy
smilier, curlier, burlier, meaner
pricklier, sillier, lighter, cleaner
(did I forget anything?)
well, do what you must
but what the world really needs
is for you to be more...more...
what was your name again?
yes. you. more you.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
the christening (sunning?)
the sun from far
shines on this child
warm approval
from center space
approving of everything
its golden light can reach
in all directions
shining on and on
shines on this child
warm approval
from center space
approving of everything
its golden light can reach
in all directions
shining on and on
what I noticed in the garden
brown, unpretentious
dirt just laying there to be stepped on
(or built on, or covered over with asphalt)
has magically lifted itself into green heights
of cantaloupe, collard, catalpa, corn
(without taking noticeable decrease)
dirt just laying there to be stepped on
(or built on, or covered over with asphalt)
has magically lifted itself into green heights
of cantaloupe, collard, catalpa, corn
(without taking noticeable decrease)
Saturday, November 29, 2008
red epaulettes
a cloud of red-winged blackbirds tipped
onto new planted trees and fresh-laid sod
loads up the telephone wires, fills in the cyclone fences
drive through the fumes of music
onto new planted trees and fresh-laid sod
loads up the telephone wires, fills in the cyclone fences
drive through the fumes of music
Friday, October 3, 2008
Marineworld butterfly exhibit
we walked through the tent
the child held out her hand
she cried she wanted the butterflies to love her
but they settled in the hair of other girls
the child held out her hand
she cried she wanted the butterflies to love her
but they settled in the hair of other girls
not violence, violets
so I asked for a little life
buttercups, forget-me-nots
yellow primroses, button mushrooms
and they want murals from me!
strong colors, reds and blacks
buttercups, forget-me-nots
yellow primroses, button mushrooms
and they want murals from me!
strong colors, reds and blacks
Saturday, September 20, 2008
afternoon at the seashore
a cliff where the fog ends
the waves rise up to view the land
flop to the sand
bird with a red beak, driving through the breakers
at the edge of a continent
from the bluff, the gull
para-gliding on long, floppy wings
river rocks frozen, arrested stone rivers
the falling banks liberate
it is not expressly forbidden
to carry pebbles from the beach
so she kneels in the sand, washed pebbles and shells
and fills both pockets to bulging
with individually chosen shining
shapes, colors and patterns
when she puts them in her pockets, she takes them to heart
the waves rise up to view the land
flop to the sand
bird with a red beak, driving through the breakers
at the edge of a continent
from the bluff, the gull
para-gliding on long, floppy wings
river rocks frozen, arrested stone rivers
the falling banks liberate
it is not expressly forbidden
to carry pebbles from the beach
so she kneels in the sand, washed pebbles and shells
and fills both pockets to bulging
with individually chosen shining
shapes, colors and patterns
when she puts them in her pockets, she takes them to heart
Monday, September 8, 2008
In September, Personal Disaster
I know them.
I know each one like a cell in my body.
Which bone is it that betrayed them?
One died giving birth to orders
sound of the bull-horn
“Go back to your deaths”
another died, hesitating on the steps
If I wait all night by the bridge
then will you come into my arms?
One who had been given mother’s good bread
so she would have a long life;
One, lying in wait for justification
still desperate to prove
Died hoarding, waiting
for the bad times to return
that never came
The end of pain, finished with experience
“I had been waiting for this to end so I could live”
Day by day, the poem changes
after-images--falling bodies
my son’s voice crying “owie” over a small hurt
My dreams are easy on me
Kitchens where the cooks have created
World trade center buildings in yellow pudding
yellow pudding airplanes diving for the ground
Hurry on down. Step up to see them.
The sun comes up, the weather continues
I drop the coffee pot in the kitchen
I am not as flexible in my exercises
Mourning and building muscle?
Every one of us defeated in our bodies?
(Twin, towering legs of a man who has been toppled?)
(Smoking chimneys of the liner “economy” going down?)
Practically forgotten
in the heat and smoke
of desperate moments
the columns of rising
souls from the rubble
a smoke, a steam,
a crackling
rustling of paper
pen on parchment—
a page has been turned
Note: Spend as much time as possible naked
proof to yourself: you still have a body
Note: Flowers (and people) inhabit their bodies
only for a short time
we may speak to them then
After a great cruelty, echoes
An immediate response is mounted
by the empty air
which turns the other cheek
by the set of our teeth
the veins in our temples
we will reply
“Blast the hell out of somebody”
Eugene says, terrorist, is that you?
Memorial services
invoking our battle-god
we are united in irrationality
Rumsfeld with a little flag
(size of a matchbook
that could ignite…)
There’s no such thing as vindication
vindication has no meaning
Revenge is sweet? who said that?
revenge is monstrous, teeth on edge
eyes staring, fixed on damage
head nodding, counting out explosions
Can we ski down the hill on a broken leg?
does the foot attack the knee?
Pretty soon the gangrene sets in
and fever attacks the whole body
We’d be better off to bombard the people with dreams
wish-fulfillment from the sky
great avalanches of goat cheese, or whatever
the hell they’ve been dreaming of…
finally every one of us was forced to watch
the children eating explosions
with their breakfast cereals
Kellogg pop-tarts and explosions
alive and not alive
the airplane outside the windows
and then the buildings
accept the planes
the sadness of skyscrapers
before the collapse
and the sadness after
We run it again
from a falling body, you can turn your head—no suspense
I walk through rivulets
of rain falling from the eves
the cat shakes herself on the stairs
the children: “we saw people jumping from tall buildings”
All of us a part of something greater
leaping in air, ahead of the flames?
watch the skyscrapers’ falling
ripple across the bodies of the old in the rest home
as if we were indeed one organism
Fred says: Atlas, holding up the earth
also turns and runs around the sun
the 13th
We salute the flag as if it was someone
It hurts to see at half-staff, blowing
The old man, hunched over the steering wheel
in his cap with an extra-long bill
slows his pickup, turns his head sideways
to spit out the window
In the whole country
there cannot be any cheering
more
something cried in the night and was eaten
even the dogs refused to bark
wet footprints from the shower through the bedroom
plateful of coins, rattling down the stairs
rifle shots all day, reports of acorns
a robin’s attempt at song, broken off by protestations
my mouth committed sabotage against my body—
I ate till I was full, then ate again
Trying to remember what was lost and how we lost it
Rearranging inner worlds to include calamity
unburthening
only the unreasonable is allowed to be reasonable at this time
in our mind’s nightly reorganization, reality decomposes
we could wake up to any landscape and believe it
but a deed remains done
and someone who is gone remains gone
Punnin’
From a falling body
you can turn your head in boredom—
No suspense
Jabberings—a multiplicity of voices
“the toilets of America will be overflowing with excrement”
“though in our mourning, we are eating well, ha ha”
Emotion requiring an emotional response?
“everyone pulling together in one direction--
surely this will be the saving of our nation”
“cannot assimilate the WTC collapse
until we turn it into entertainment”
from the drawer front I try to wipe
a smudge of sun
helping the mite
lost in the vastness of the bathroom
a life so tiny
surely it is also honored
ok to flush it down the sink
as long as you don’t see it
anthrax, even smaller
I don’t even want to know
how they live in Afghanistan
In the light of the breaking and the burning
next to the mounds and mountains of gray ashes
the faces of our neighbors
take on a new significance and radiance
tv today
Escaped from the collapse
she has just discovered we are mortal--
inconsolable, hysterical,
she wants someone to take that away
(a reminder--on the corner—
the gravel truck, brakeless on the hill
air horn blaring, taking out two cars
bucking buses, the snapped-off telephone pole
its sizzle and its lightning
death and silence afterward,
running home wounded in the same way)
Zealots
In the airplane, looking
down through a hole in the clouds
I thought of The Tailor in Heaven
throwing God’s footstool
down at the miscreants
I think of that again
“Come Up Here See This”
the accents that compel
sometimes the sky opens
and there before you--
your heart’s desire or a disaster
I know each one like a cell in my body.
Which bone is it that betrayed them?
One died giving birth to orders
sound of the bull-horn
“Go back to your deaths”
another died, hesitating on the steps
If I wait all night by the bridge
then will you come into my arms?
One who had been given mother’s good bread
so she would have a long life;
One, lying in wait for justification
still desperate to prove
Died hoarding, waiting
for the bad times to return
that never came
The end of pain, finished with experience
“I had been waiting for this to end so I could live”
Day by day, the poem changes
after-images--falling bodies
my son’s voice crying “owie” over a small hurt
My dreams are easy on me
Kitchens where the cooks have created
World trade center buildings in yellow pudding
yellow pudding airplanes diving for the ground
Hurry on down. Step up to see them.
The sun comes up, the weather continues
I drop the coffee pot in the kitchen
I am not as flexible in my exercises
Mourning and building muscle?
Every one of us defeated in our bodies?
(Twin, towering legs of a man who has been toppled?)
(Smoking chimneys of the liner “economy” going down?)
Practically forgotten
in the heat and smoke
of desperate moments
the columns of rising
souls from the rubble
a smoke, a steam,
a crackling
rustling of paper
pen on parchment—
a page has been turned
Note: Spend as much time as possible naked
proof to yourself: you still have a body
Note: Flowers (and people) inhabit their bodies
only for a short time
we may speak to them then
After a great cruelty, echoes
An immediate response is mounted
by the empty air
which turns the other cheek
by the set of our teeth
the veins in our temples
we will reply
“Blast the hell out of somebody”
Eugene says, terrorist, is that you?
Memorial services
invoking our battle-god
we are united in irrationality
Rumsfeld with a little flag
(size of a matchbook
that could ignite…)
There’s no such thing as vindication
vindication has no meaning
Revenge is sweet? who said that?
revenge is monstrous, teeth on edge
eyes staring, fixed on damage
head nodding, counting out explosions
Can we ski down the hill on a broken leg?
does the foot attack the knee?
Pretty soon the gangrene sets in
and fever attacks the whole body
We’d be better off to bombard the people with dreams
wish-fulfillment from the sky
great avalanches of goat cheese, or whatever
the hell they’ve been dreaming of…
finally every one of us was forced to watch
the children eating explosions
with their breakfast cereals
Kellogg pop-tarts and explosions
alive and not alive
the airplane outside the windows
and then the buildings
accept the planes
the sadness of skyscrapers
before the collapse
and the sadness after
We run it again
from a falling body, you can turn your head—no suspense
I walk through rivulets
of rain falling from the eves
the cat shakes herself on the stairs
the children: “we saw people jumping from tall buildings”
All of us a part of something greater
leaping in air, ahead of the flames?
watch the skyscrapers’ falling
ripple across the bodies of the old in the rest home
as if we were indeed one organism
Fred says: Atlas, holding up the earth
also turns and runs around the sun
the 13th
We salute the flag as if it was someone
It hurts to see at half-staff, blowing
The old man, hunched over the steering wheel
in his cap with an extra-long bill
slows his pickup, turns his head sideways
to spit out the window
In the whole country
there cannot be any cheering
more
something cried in the night and was eaten
even the dogs refused to bark
wet footprints from the shower through the bedroom
plateful of coins, rattling down the stairs
rifle shots all day, reports of acorns
a robin’s attempt at song, broken off by protestations
my mouth committed sabotage against my body—
I ate till I was full, then ate again
Trying to remember what was lost and how we lost it
Rearranging inner worlds to include calamity
unburthening
only the unreasonable is allowed to be reasonable at this time
in our mind’s nightly reorganization, reality decomposes
we could wake up to any landscape and believe it
but a deed remains done
and someone who is gone remains gone
Punnin’
From a falling body
you can turn your head in boredom—
No suspense
Jabberings—a multiplicity of voices
“the toilets of America will be overflowing with excrement”
“though in our mourning, we are eating well, ha ha”
Emotion requiring an emotional response?
“everyone pulling together in one direction--
surely this will be the saving of our nation”
“cannot assimilate the WTC collapse
until we turn it into entertainment”
from the drawer front I try to wipe
a smudge of sun
helping the mite
lost in the vastness of the bathroom
a life so tiny
surely it is also honored
ok to flush it down the sink
as long as you don’t see it
anthrax, even smaller
I don’t even want to know
how they live in Afghanistan
In the light of the breaking and the burning
next to the mounds and mountains of gray ashes
the faces of our neighbors
take on a new significance and radiance
tv today
Escaped from the collapse
she has just discovered we are mortal--
inconsolable, hysterical,
she wants someone to take that away
(a reminder--on the corner—
the gravel truck, brakeless on the hill
air horn blaring, taking out two cars
bucking buses, the snapped-off telephone pole
its sizzle and its lightning
death and silence afterward,
running home wounded in the same way)
Zealots
In the airplane, looking
down through a hole in the clouds
I thought of The Tailor in Heaven
throwing God’s footstool
down at the miscreants
I think of that again
“Come Up Here See This”
the accents that compel
sometimes the sky opens
and there before you--
your heart’s desire or a disaster
Saturday, September 6, 2008
once through the anthology, slowly
waiting through verbiage
flourishes, displays
disagreements, confessions, complexities
obscure references
and then, there's yours
your name called by a line
flourishes, displays
disagreements, confessions, complexities
obscure references
and then, there's yours
your name called by a line
quake
jolt in the ear, leap in the heart
the air stands still, the earth slowly rocking
not even so much as a wind blows a tree
stops short of cracking, short of splinters
for a time
the air stands still, the earth slowly rocking
not even so much as a wind blows a tree
stops short of cracking, short of splinters
for a time
Friday, September 5, 2008
4.0
I hate that when it happens
The wall rattling and shouting
For no discernible reason
Just my luck to be in the shower
When the final earthquake comes
The wall rattling and shouting
For no discernible reason
Just my luck to be in the shower
When the final earthquake comes
Monday, September 1, 2008
yellow diamonds--dedicated to recent immigrants, legal or otherwise
to walk in midday heat
any old umbrella will do
the sun drips off the tips
drenching the shoes in sun
any old umbrella will do
the sun drips off the tips
drenching the shoes in sun
vacated
glaciers roused themselves and left their beds
left the cirques and hanging valleys
abandoned peaks and left them sharpened, gray
and prone to chipping
http://ilovetherockymountains.blogspot.com/
left the cirques and hanging valleys
abandoned peaks and left them sharpened, gray
and prone to chipping
http://ilovetherockymountains.blogspot.com/
Sunday, August 31, 2008
fitting in
she did not want to be the only one to obey the law
so she crossed against the light with the others
so she crossed against the light with the others
never say I can't make things rhyme
for the houseplant, a life
with never a breeze
never an insect to land on its leaves
dead air between the couch and chair,
his moods and her despair
lifts leaves each night though not in prayer
with never a breeze
never an insect to land on its leaves
dead air between the couch and chair,
his moods and her despair
lifts leaves each night though not in prayer
Saturday, August 30, 2008
hot days, no fog discovery
just because you can’t see them
doesn’t mean they’re not there
Cassiopea beside the Redwood
sitting faintly in her chair
the dipper scooping city lights
in its giant square
(faulty compass notwithstanding
it’s finally clear where North is)
doesn’t mean they’re not there
Cassiopea beside the Redwood
sitting faintly in her chair
the dipper scooping city lights
in its giant square
(faulty compass notwithstanding
it’s finally clear where North is)
by the estuary
a bell rings and the road rises
centerline pointing at the clouds
*
one bridge lifts away cleanly
and the next has already stopped the cars
for “Paycheck” which pulls
a wake of corrugated waves
I would not choose a ship so tall
as to intrude on bridges
but a dinghy like that one
bearded man, hand on noisy outboard
taking his Irish Setter for a water ride
centerline pointing at the clouds
*
one bridge lifts away cleanly
and the next has already stopped the cars
for “Paycheck” which pulls
a wake of corrugated waves
I would not choose a ship so tall
as to intrude on bridges
but a dinghy like that one
bearded man, hand on noisy outboard
taking his Irish Setter for a water ride
downturn
the people said it is enough
it is more than enough
and went back
to their smaller houses
the trees went back
to their old roots
it is more than enough
and went back
to their smaller houses
the trees went back
to their old roots
Friday, August 29, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
on the interstate
truck and trailer of hay going north
meets truck and trailer of hay going south
is there no way to coordinate this?
meets truck and trailer of hay going south
is there no way to coordinate this?
re: fires
California, in summer blonde
fair hair of sun-bleached hills
When living in a straw barn
be careful with the lantern...
fair hair of sun-bleached hills
When living in a straw barn
be careful with the lantern...
tiniest birds–answering bits of intent
The same flock through here, daily
tumbling through bushes
over and under, same size as the leaves
One bush tit separates, detours to the window
tries to grab the fly on the inside of the pane
tumbling through bushes
over and under, same size as the leaves
One bush tit separates, detours to the window
tries to grab the fly on the inside of the pane
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Sundial Bridge in Redding
who dared write this green glass crossing
ribbed timepiece, musical instrument
strings tuned for plucking
this too white sail
alarmingly high fin
and not a word of it can be changed later?
http://www.viamagazine.com/top_stories/articles/Redding04.asp
ribbed timepiece, musical instrument
strings tuned for plucking
this too white sail
alarmingly high fin
and not a word of it can be changed later?
http://www.viamagazine.com/top_stories/articles/Redding04.asp
Friday, July 25, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
more words about the Calatrava bridge in Redding
There is no reason to cross the river but for the bridge
I want to emphasize
how much the bridge cares about you, personally
The bridge has eyes for no one but you
Even now I am yearning for the bridge
(“the capacity of things to be close to us”)
I want to emphasize
how much the bridge cares about you, personally
The bridge has eyes for no one but you
Even now I am yearning for the bridge
(“the capacity of things to be close to us”)
gardening at this age
plants, at least, stay where you put them
the only thing I can still dominate
words are impossible, slippery, mistaken
reverse themselves to their opposite meaning
(presented playfully, they
become ominous, take on a sinister tone)
I never have to apologize for my peas
the only thing I can still dominate
words are impossible, slippery, mistaken
reverse themselves to their opposite meaning
(presented playfully, they
become ominous, take on a sinister tone)
I never have to apologize for my peas
Thursday, July 17, 2008
sunbrowned and hatted
even when everyone comes here
it’s still you alone in the wilderness
carrying your weight in sun and wind burn
up against gravity, down over rock and root
you against thirst, hunger, weariness
the interminable daily needs and toiletries
it’s still you alone in the wilderness
carrying your weight in sun and wind burn
up against gravity, down over rock and root
you against thirst, hunger, weariness
the interminable daily needs and toiletries
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