Tag Archives: naked

The Art of Smoke

Arrives again the garden oracle
With her branchy appetite,
Free to be true —

Yet cursed by lack of words
and automatic writing
and little courage to say what’s meant,

Like harlequins hurled high into the fungal field
For global fruiting.
Imagine
The memetic sabotage!
There’s no magic in prostitution.

Yet bud to blossom,
She’s here to stay
For the honor in post-lingual thinking.
The man-eating metaphor weeds
Are NOT her doing.
She is NOT the one robbing sentience of pertinence.

We yield our trabeated thinking.

1 Comment

Filed under Poems

Ma Fit da Padraig

Dit randid joyk
Gun farce afeet
Ban kneedy leg
Na armapeet

Ma stoma cake
Fra tearin lake
An gona furter
Tudor gate

Wha toil doon
Gan total groun
Den jimy gup
Flight flow te cup
Indig
Flight flow te cup

Sliante !!

(report all spelling problems to spelling department)

6 Comments

Filed under Ma Fit da Padraig

On an Apple Tree

I had a pleasant job when I was 16 working in a small, private greenhouse and cut-flower garden.  Immersion in floral rainbows and thick greenery each day delighted me then as it does now.  Behind the greenhouse was a small yard of luxuriant, thin-bladed grass with a carefully pruned, standard size apple tree growing in the midst of it.  About twenty-five feet tall and perhaps thirty feet across, this robust tree provided cool summer shade to the yard.  I enjoyed taking my lunch breaks in this yard, leaning against the apple tree.

During my lunch break one day, having already eaten my sandwich, I took a notion to climb the apple tree.  It was early Summer and the apples were still quite tiny and the leaves were nearing their full flush and strength.  I do not remember exactly why I needed to climb that day since I usually rested during my break.  I do recall that I liked to peer into the canopy when resting against the tree trunk. I had marveled at the patterns of filtered green light diminishing daily until the shade was almost complete from the converging growth.  From this perspective the canopy formed a flawless fractal flower of greenery evenly spread by its living fan of twigs, branches, limbs, and trunk.  I believe I simply could not resist being up into the thickness of that beauty.
Continue reading

6 Comments

Filed under On an Apple Tree

Naked

.
.
.

Woman,
I stand naked
on the third
stone from
the sun.
Come to
me and help
me see, my love won’t jump
the gun. The angels trumpeting
and I keep forgetting to pick
the roses for your long silky
hair. We must beware. We
must take care to never
ride alone in boats that
are made for two.
It’s up to you. You
must renew the splendor
lying deep within my eyes.
Woman, I stand naked on the
third stone from the sun. Come
to me and help me see my love
won’t jump the gun.

July 1974

6 Comments

Filed under naked

Apocalyptic Rhythm

Feigning we’d acknowledge no successor
to the throne of our dimensions,
we would graphically display
the possibilities before us
and pseudo-judiciously
set our course for ever more.

We can run through the jungle.
We’re agile in the woods.
Yet though we know the world is round
we still fall off the edge.

Make us naked,
won’t you, Reason.
Take the Truth and grip us, free us.
Show us with your patience
the sources of the forces
that keep the worlds in ordered spirals
giving credence to your minstrels.

Smooth apocalyptic rhythm,
cast the dragon to the chasm
to raise the blind, rouse our mind
and send us off to school on time.

Our designs failing may deceive us
but new dimensions will receive us.
Have no fear.
There’s nothing here
that left behind should ever grieve us.

June 1987

Leave a comment

Filed under Apocalyptic Rhythm