Thursday, September 5, 2013

September singing

in the rhythm
Shell the peanuts.
Scrub and cut potatoes.
Knead the bread dough.
Pluck and chop the herbs.
Music in the fixing, in the mixing,
each practiced movement.
Music of each meeting,
each task a jaunty dance.
Held in cogent vibration,
safe in sound, lightly bound,
guides to sense from sensation,
turns lessons to merry play.
Easy to commune, catch the tune, taught with glee.
Such fun these school days can be!
Back in the forests, the caves,
the glades,
elemental chemistries exchange,
sonic waves call wanderers home;
soothing dark fears with lullaby,
comradely cheer.
Know us by our song --
music to carry through
long brave trails, travailed years.
If the Word is our binding charm,
our song is our vow,
ever renaming power.
Engaging, blending, restorative potion;
energy, purpose, pleasure of motion
enthused by
acoustic muse.
The people united,
hanging together to avoid
being hung
one by one.
Growing their rhythm, get carried along in a
strengthening hum
tuned to common cause.
Ringing poetic, wrapped
together, in a banner of furious sound.
The people, excited, spring in their step,
clear on their ground, can not be kept down.
Entrapped, entranced
Who is to be gained
by loosening the ties?
What you remains
released into surprise?
Feel, beneath your eyes.
Ease into the rhythm.
Blessed familiarity --
heartbeat through pulsing memory.
Breathe, connect with the real --
the gift of air, of skin,
of enchanting chance encounters,
of ringing melodies
strong enough
to call to lucidity
your most precious name.
There's always a child
to play
loved and protected
through audacious curiosity,
worries over being too big or
clashing to fit in.
Little one, listen:
Condensed to soft-voiced
loving companion
on treacherous icy walks
in winter rain
embraces from within.
Intone and be heard, protected,
assured of unsuspected glory.
Song imagines your story.
Surging through heart,
lungs, air
our ineffable beauty
Before the Beginning
Before imagination,
sound or fury,
in a wraithlike pocket
outside of time and space
none to command
none to hinder
how does the spark ignite?
Spontaneous combustion?
Multiplicities of zeroes
encircling void
before chicken or egg or seed.
Was there a silent prophecy?
If the system is closed,
nothing created or destroyed,
where does it all come from?
How far can it expand?
If the system is open,
how far does it go?
If there is no system,
chaos endlessly realigning,
helpless to demand rule of law,
form but temporarily
delimiting substance,
no matter.
In our space and time
we play at definitions.
"In the Beginning . . .."
Words upon a screen,
over millennia.
September 5, 2008
unquiet response
Is Insanity ever quiet?
Stars burst within confined mind's
brilliant fire, catching curtains, igniting tapestries.
Scorched odor pervades;
crumbles crumple, a vast array of sand.
She takes his hand, follows vein cliffs
over warm comfort, traces trails of memories
to compassionate embrace.
She was never a rock, craggy and solidly secure.
She was the windswept sea, invited to taste shore.
How dare he wander to sink in sand and fire's remnants?
"Faith" flickers from mouth to sad, sad eyes.
He is lost.
She feels a scream of unwanted laughter form
like spittle, twisting from dry mouth to flooded eyes.
soul juice
Squeeze my soul.
Juicy rivelets sweep
into gaping waiting mouths
of aborted song,
crying to warn.
Empty waterless tears
can’t convey nutriment.
I am dying.
Bit by precious emission,
swirly spirals of contextual drool.
The words, the wyrd, the weirding ways
slip out into this stream,
newly stagnating.
I am dying to tell you.
Secreting lifeforce
exuded as shielding matrix.
Precious phrases
squeeze out meaning
in bloody trails, molecule deep,
holding closely to spectral ether.
Drink me!
Let me taste my essence
dripping through your throat.
September 4, 2006
question of belief
They ast me, you know, do you believe?
I had to say "depends on what you mean"
'cause there's a difference between
that everyday believin;
of all that crap we be receivin'
on tv, at home, on the street, and all
and that biblical stuff they want us to swallow
so they can say it's all God's Plan.
He's the one to service, He's the Man.
When you think you ain't gettin' what yer worth
or have other disputations with yer deal on this Earth,
He's gonna make it all right in the great by and by.
Hosts of Hallalujahing angels in the sky
and all like that. So don't blame fat cats for yer losing case.
Just bow and scrape and count on divine Grace
to save your soul.
Yeah, I believe.
I believe you get what you demand,
with the power of living voices, joining hand in hand
spanning a world in continual
September 4, 2006
Haphazard People
Mostly pretty ugly, pretty useless, pretty ignorant,
not pretty at all.
But how can I discount them when unexpectedly
somebody kind, unreasonably wise, a vision of grace,
undeniably lovely.
How could we account for miracles, unlikely odds
coming through?
Random chaos is enough for human ingenuity
to engineer you or me, or any soldier joe
or social geek.
Who's to say which or any of us is the freak?
I like my women half-crazed, strong, and wonder-filled.
I like someone to cry with.
I like someone who laughs me out of my blues.
I like that she could choose,
and freely cleaves to me.
Haphazard people.
Unplanned lives.
What are the chances we might get it right?
September 4, 2011
Void Moon Harvest
I could
if I willed it
go inward.
Beyond stratosphere,
infinite bliss,
the whole of the real.
I let go; I feel
eternity pulls me,
grasps my ambient air
into awareness.
All ways my destiny
incandescent transcendence,
resplendent artist's ecstasy.
in these moments,
stuck in migrating vibrations.
Attached to this Earth,
mired (but not beyond mirth,
cosmic inspiration)
to miasmic
throes and woes.
Undefined transformation,
laborious birth.
I am dignified, made whole.
Service to vision:
corroded, corrupted,
yet shining below that pitted surface
I see
and uncover the light

September 4, 2009

No comments: