Our Place

two years at once as the planet spins
2015 being wiped away as 2016 dawns
in the dark cold hot wet dry windy calm

tomorrow's party assembles our friends
who are learning their lines while I cook
allowing events to happen how they will

good year bad year depending on health
weak or strong we still like being here
in our chosen place to belong together

Seen or Not

old me meets the public eye
so I see myself seen or not
young me surprises himself
existing quite intact within
present-day me in the mirror
not an old man but myself
looking reasonably together
timeless me still in quest of
who I was and am and why

Say Something

if we are here now be still
if you care to tell me of it
I listen thinking thoughts
I can never fully disclose

none of us knows enough
to venture a positive opinion
anything said is too simple
the actual situation chaos

generalists overwhelmed
still try to say something
revelationist summative
wisdom in our ignorance

To Exist

four Ahabs makes me dizzy
like the very thought of 3-D
springing at me electrically

one is enough to remember
one at a time satisfies more
simply by needing to exist

Good Enough

sincere may justify naive
to some extent we're all
blind to our own strategy
stumbling toward truth

good enough is not good
unless I'm in the groove
then I can do no wrong
revelation is inevitable

more often not though
too late to take it back
nothing really erased
one must know better

Mindless Scribbles

marking the earth we are like pigs rooting
everything made of pieces can be taken apart
stars molecules disassembled into points in
motion and context gravity spinning its web

lines overlie what was already there as if
mindless scribbles counted as analytic purpose
compulsion to impose an order of our own
were virtue feeling we have to do something

leaving it alone is not proactive enough our
energy overflowing in disconcerting swirls
or sputtering through imagined obligations
competing with everything and its own ideas

Fear Not

not seeing what you're saying
I'll have to look more closely

nor denying age trying young
I am practicing to be old well

health is normal systems fail
existence continues to the end

fear not the icy blast it warms
like the god of human smiles

No Apologies

we ourselves are privileged
protected spared welcomed
dark is not deeper than light
solitude not realer than love
good more present than evil
truth demands no apologies

Christmas Eve

not tv we produce a tree
carpeted with sparkling
comforts me as Messiah
rolls through once more

I am distantly fond of it
meant something once I
no longer resist anything
no problem now I'm old

someone believes church
full commitment an idea
group reinforcement help
when energy flags at last

Inner Need

one good review okays the effort
daring exposure desiring a result
without total self-embarrassment

if I tell a story will you follow me
or at least look at the illustrations
paintings are more easily taken in

obvious solutions proved elusive
effort unappreciated still satisfies
inner need expressed as enzymes

Key Strokes

if I can't see or hear you
how can we talk where
can we meet who are we

fragments of contact not
long enough key strokes
have to be more definite

groping for clear sense
if I knew what I meant
you'd be the first I'd tell

Gold Nuggets

I have been using free indirect style without knowing it! The narrator merges with the character or the character speaks through the narrator. My struggle (mein kampf) is with the narrator, who is myself if I am talking about my own life. I am making myself up as I go along. If I narrate as someone else, who am I really? Never that objective kind of writer, which would dissociate me from my own being, which I am writing to affirm, affirming you.

The motions don't matter, I go through them unresisting, with pleasure. When pleasure fails, I don't know what I will do.

I'd like my journals to be published and read, in a thoughtfully edited form. There are many gold nuggets in them waiting to be picked up and cashed in as wisdom. Flying embers of beauty. The unit is the sentence, each sentence a thought, each thought a building block. Planetary destiny has to be taken into consideration: hence irony, or insulation. Existence is eternal, whatever you think.

Manufactured Laughs

if not funny what is manufactured
laughs defying pain and suffering
now if not when you thought of it

get it on or it didn't happen to you
or anyone else ideas not acted on
might as well never have existed

these are the contradictions of art
defined by where I live whom see
in the process of any ordinary day

We Know

what is better
better than what
by whose rule
old books laws
rational thought
no we just know
right or wrong
dead wrong it
still feels right
what can we do
how can we know
how to be good

One Person

where are we not in our chairs
what are chairs without bodies

imaginary places we can meet
impossibly exist if we believe

where did we leave our bodies
when we were out of our minds

or is it better to remain intact
one person containing the all

Nothing Else

can't I like Oliver Sacks feel sharply
why is it all vague soft though there
thought emerging timidly half-formed

he was no less confused unsure of even
his intelligence one knows one's limits
then surprisingly at times goes beyond

out of my way ego forever comparing
judging doubting rarely measuring up
notice never enough to entirely satisfy

that only comes as love tender moments
erase distinction between self and being
here now with you nothing else counts

Still Here

the past deepens
filling all forms
richly resonant
now not just now

image's context
is time not space
stars on blackness
glitters and sings

deep past present
portrait of being
briefly aflame
then winks out

imagine it gone
has no effect all
still here bright
rain its avatar

In the Middle

which side of the wall am I on then
how can I not equally well the other
what I may know cannot be beyond

if my book has the same title is it
every word different without any
other meaning remaining possible

all we can say can be this muddle
in the middle wanting love terror
the wall itself falls our imagining

Future Past

a choice once made is inevitable
real time includes the future past
what will we think of the present
if other possibilities ever existed

the same way a poem takes form
in writing its own rules on water
winding downhill toward the sea
of meaning waiting to evaporate

Adding Up

fleeting wanders open files
the wonderful things people say
lost moments filling memory

whom I appreciated at the time
nothing to regret afterwards
they went on being themselves

and so did I accumulating
possible revelations adding up
to life as it is actually lived

Bad Karma

what hero rides to the rescue
of our hapless lost republic
rich yet predominantly poor
peuliarly confused passively
consuming much too much
we like convenience rely on
comfort not to be unhappy

bad karma builds up I am
afraid chickens come home
shocked silly dangerously
afraid reactive blaming us
ISIS is the same people who
destroyed the cities in the
Late Bronze Age Collapse

we are not there but here
still protected by oceans we
ought not to disregard trash
never helps revenge earns
interest greatly owed we're
overexposed never learning
be quiet keep out of the way

Always There

anything serious intrudes on my hideout
drama I mean always seems so contrived
I can't stand to go through it truth or not
everything is true but what is said about it
bullshit dominant honest news indistinct
manipulative propaganda factional bullies
even the best arguing only their own case
farmland insulates rushing creek washes
clean images show what was always there

Stay With Me

second nature is coming to bear
one hand less than twenty-one
no I mean specifically just that
emerging from the underbrush

stay with me here we go again

the first time no telling what
despite being jollied into life
"life" ringing out from within
as if nothing could be known

Separate Houses

free men do not build palaces of stone
prefer to live in small separate houses
wondering if others are all so isolated
if perfectly commanded faculties exist

some remembered how to be animals
can I imagine myself superior to any
excused from labor by my greater age
whether my now is justified in being

How To

how to get to midtown
walk or take the subway

how to get to Portland
drive or nothing

how to be strong
eat sleep exercise

how to stop thinking
try instead to start

how to handle loss
no way but face it

how to write a poem
one word after another

High Winds

how fast is normal separated by real estate
interests blown apart by radical weather
in that case save the pictures I mean art

the water is still outside roaring rushing
forever downhill everything else too high
decisions taken over by indulgent uncles

too late now the past calls from Romania
reliving theatre saves driving in the dark
searching for a fit response to high winds

More Noise

if we were to talk about it
what would we say would
it matter what we thought
or only make more noise

the latter I think whatever
I think can remain private
if you would be so kind if
we understand each other

I will find some use for it
perhaps in a novel or play
someone else is speaking
as if the ideas were theirs

If I Had

I did or I didn't
know if I had

I meant what
I meant to say

I heard about it
but wasn't here

this is enough
if you think so

Perfectly Clear

theoretically I'm interested
actually not I've done that
it's all perfectly clear to me

experience exhausts itself
repetition numbs necessity
loses force I'll just go home

At Bay

steady rain in the dark before dawn
the sound of silence is full of noises
my demons include criticalness lazy
sloth held at bay by constant tidying
impatience envy thwarted ambition
one can only laugh meanwhile body
thick but evanescent for another day

Winter Rains

is it time even now
the lights come on
automatically once
darkness descends
the cats walk about
despite winter rains
a chicken's feathers
protect it from cold
we more vulnerable
rely on gas electric
and all that follows

Maybe Yes

say no if you must if you mean it think
again maybe yes default to yes unless
you'd rather nothing happened not me
withholding what I didn't know I had
opportunities ungraspable at the time I
didn't know how to write a budget or
a business plan anything else follows
from intention imagined then realized

I Do

if not now when
especially now
when I should know

luckily I do

Good Light

let us go on talking anyway
whether or not we can agree
vary the topic open the door
use words of fewer syllables
show yourself in a good light
believing my purpose sincere

this is proper book business
inviting comment listening
to what the other has to say
the same stories harmlessly
retold embarrassing vanity
reembodied as a sacred text

Art Plays

natural order is the spectrum always the same
big sun rising transiting dipping bright moon
tugging our tides birth and death and weather
natural chaos now complicating the regularity
art plays along this edge as we play our lives
not performances games but really happening

In London

in London I could be a gentleman
delve into the fascinating history
who built which street when why
the houses sell for millions now

who wouldn't want to live there
if living were all I'd go to my club
rarely talk to anyone mainly read
filling my place in the dying order

no place more different than this
though our language is the same
theoretically no Indians were here
what they were missing we forgot

My Demons

your thought is not for me
I read it do you read mine

people actually are different
your assumptions not mine

my demons are only imps
their dirty work long done

neither teacher nor preacher
I may have nothing to offer

I know what you're saying
it isn't what I need or am

Accidentally Rude

nothing is known without being described
by more than a word or properly named
as if you were there actually witnessed it

even then you can't know if you remember
or heard about it later or half imagined it
the advantage of numbers is they add up

some things can be true without being said
in anyone else's hearing or written out in
language not everyone is expected to know

it's that ambiguous whether you like it or
don't want anyone to feel bad if you were
accidentally rude forget I said anything

Clear Nights

does the Devil sleep I doubt it
his little devils keep right on
poking and jeering all the time
there is no night or day in hell

rain in darkness little warmer
than clear nights freezing the
animals' water we can sleep
to our weary hearts' content

Dry Earth

wild at lunch after
outdoor adventure
after being inside
steadily stronger
doing chores again
before the winter

was that a spider
scurrying askance
or a reflection of
something other
ready to pounce
when we forget

memory is work
watered in hours
dry earth yields
details reemerge
self-recognition
your reward to be

Without Warning

acts of involuntary character
circumvent all reason feeling
rises before thought can speak
who you are only visible later

don't try to decide if anything
goes further than you meant
you live with it embraceable
or never to be mentioned again

the usual caveat applies real
stuff happens without warning
a propensity previously hidden
rears its head unloved unshorn

What I Like

whatever you think
I wish I could too so
we would both know
otherwise blindness

when I think of you
I can only wonder
what you think of me
and what I am doing

I would like to help
if you'd let me in on
what you want of me
and are willing to give

I have my own ideas
we can both be happy
let me do what I like
and like what you do

Bad Enough

quite a bit less would be enough
I indulge myself because I can
bread butter jam a glass of milk
snack time not long before bed
you imagined something worse
yet this is bad enough to satisfy

Still Running

The water was still running so I had a drink and washed my hands.
Papa was good, no doubt about it, but there is still more to be done.
Sentences structure thought; paragraphs are only an afterthought.
If a mind is open, does that mean that anybody can walk right in?

My Time

not there because here and not going
explains where I stand on New York

I did my time there satisfying myself
and others when I could do it I would

then after a chapter of something other
went back tried again partly succeeded

if the past doesn't die it must be killed
that the present may flow into the future

Knowing More

what you are not interested in
may still exist for others get
over it before leaving the room

or change the subject tell us
something you know we don't
in case we never see you again

that's the kind of thing I mean
understanding separate from
feeling knowing more is better

The Beat

normalcy becomes increasingly attractive
in contrast with disruptions of many kinds
unpredictable malfunctions needing repairs
sometimes go smoothly though often slowly

tempo needs to be established at the start
and freely modified without losing the beat
or momentum from many years of efforts
begin at last to show how well it can work

this is the pedal point under the harmony
foundation of house center of existence
structured according to circumstance and
nature expressing itself as passing lives

No Excuse

peace is not dull it's
opportunity for joy
to go someplace just
for the pleasure of it
relishing its beauty

policies are war tar
everyone with guilt
just by being there
endorses bombings
military no excuse

outraged over Paris
ignore Aleppo and
once lovely Beirut
attack be attacked
nowhere to be safe

Why Not

everything is seen
everything is replaceable
everyone is here
or coming soon

nothing is too much
nothing doing
anyway why not
nobody cares

anything is possible
any way you like
ask for what you need
hoping for the best

Cracking Open

wisdom falls out of the cracks
let be the words for being alive
ceiling floor walls windows time
itself cracking open like a nut
like breakfast on a fall morning
nourishing and just what I want
chosen from among my favorites

In Process

the time has not come to begin
go easy getting ready to plunge
when the moment stills enough
open yourself change all habits
willing it every element learned
about self and others in process

Fully Formed

breathing is key and regular
heartbeat before anything else
matters it all goes on without
our knowing as before we were
born other places demographics
we can never understand even
if we go there now already who
we are going to be as each is
fully formed and we know it
having made choices and acted

Extra Lights

this machine puffs that one hums
extra lights mark the path to relief

planetary probes amazing visions
nothing explained even on Earth

when how why how much longer
remain unknown this is how it is

Be Poets

from within our separate unknowable scenarios
which are one story of human loves unfolding
we endeavor to strike the revelatory resonance
open sesame into acknowledgement of treasure
each precious story unguarded trusting goodness
conscience prevailing over instrumental interests
to let ourselves be poets if we dare and so desire

Air Strikes

stop the air strikes
U.S. planes bomb
Arab countries how
does that sound to
you

Still Unsure

a different language for a different country
where everything is about the body nothing
about who you really are words for acts and
substances you never really wanted to know
you begin speaking it there is no other way
to talk about these parts and processes still
unsure of these words' meaning and utility
and how you can be you so far from home

One Day

a thump
a trip to the emergency room
from there to the airport
goodbye

healing
home from the hospital
the hospital is here
concentrating

friends
a moment of recognition
enough for one day
more tomorrow

Several Beds

time tells tales otherwise unknowable
what will happen how will I feel about it
if there is room for feelings for life itself
or just a suffering animal obeying orders

lighten up the future has its own opinions
don't ask you may learn too much too soon
or expect answers ahead of the commons
here we are now snug in our several beds

The News

those with the least [education] reported the most [pain]
among middle-aged white men beginning to die younger
that's the news and where is the place for me to write of
inner movement while continuing experience doing see
feeling emotional aesthetic idealistic sometimes thought
in no rhetorical form but story can everything be shown

Cool Raincoats

if it was me I'd go to a movie
or something like last night's
play not get into bed at nine
if I could I would but I can't

it was midnight in Brooklyn
one real world even if we're
here with the cool raincoats
going through another night

roosters come plans go awry
a body takes its time to heal
even the best care can't beat
death but now not the time

Too Late

what were you doing in jail you may ask
I hope for quixotically defying authority

what are you doing in hospital you must
be sick needing special professional care

why is your theatre in Paris not New York
well I understand I wish I had been French
or Italian but it's sadly too late for all that

Future Forms

only now are we here together
happy we can touch and love
be strong and kind ourselves
evolving better future forms

only now is the right occasion
arisen for the perfected action
ready now we recognize times
past counting decades undone

in the moment we can only be
continuing the effort to exist
active spirit fused in eternity
unified as ultimate intention

Dwarf Pines

thistles bristle on my desktop
pretty as a picture not in life
crawling under the dwarf pines
I pull them up by the roots

laughter upstairs not to annoy
it doesn't others can be happy
even when I am not right now
sick with worry for my love

Without Reserve

is it an omen that the cards play out
no I don't believe in omens situations
change we can only be present adapt
act out of our better natures naturally
giving all we have for love and honest
human helpfulness within the confines
of the social order and physical reality
go as far as possible without reserve

Perfect Art

walnuts cheddar a bite of apple
cut out the spots not much more
living on a farm I put up with it
flavors interlock like perfect art
flawed in precisely the right way

how is this a metaphor for what's
really going on illness daughters
coming and going doctors driving
how can it not reveal everything
how can I think of anything else

Crazy Turns

is it normal to go on
walking swimming driving
enjoying good food and company
when someone you love is so sick
and miserable in the hospital ICU

all I can do is keep on
being me make my life good
bring her hot chicken broth read
Trollope aloud as long as she can
follow the crazy turns of the plot

Charged Up

is everything charged up can we
go to bed now well fed unafraid
sure of our morning functionality

or are some of our batteries low
the furnace not coming on despite
the chill heaven knows what else

are we running on water power
renewed by rain I want to know
if it's proper to turn on the lights

not really salmon and lampreys
die in the mighty dams the price
of this vision paid by fishy lives

Total Comfort

for Vera Williams

even the good die eventually
if not sooner having worked
and played loved and survive
forever in our mortal hearts

who is not here is still here
even after as much as before
even if we never remember
to think of what once was

this is total comfort for one
who forgets sickness and loss
the present suddenly the past
which was there all the time

Chicken Soup

drips and monitors beep and pulse
masked I look like a faithful dog
bring chicken soup and boiled eggs
wiggle my eyebrows like Groucho
read Trollope in a virile voice as
the suffering beloved slowly heals

New Day

the night is young but waits
no longer seeming to expire
the hour is later than it was

nothing happens in an hour
still awake though yesterday
isn't over till I fall asleep

wake struggle for comfort
think dark crazy thoughts
wake again to a new day

Another Deal

solitaire retains its calm center
just me just life's cards falling
play them out cheat if you can
even then not always winning

solitaire expresses in its nature
a condition you can settle into
shuffle the cards another deal
another unfolding another play

solitaire is something I can do
without purpose or explanation
self-referential without any self
existing still within a whirling

More Real

where am I in all this
what I am reading more real
than what happens
which is just the inevitable
playing out in forms
nothing if not art

Going Wrong

what am I to say or do
about the unmistakable decline
of myself and the whole damn world

one thing after another going wrong
and nothing can really be fixed
and that's the way it is

Tiny Pawprints

it was brilliant sun in the Cline gardens and
after a while we moved our chairs into shade
cloud landscapes threatened and promised rain
then disappeared into transparence reappearing
as tiny wet pawprints on the windshield lit pink
from below as we flew home to Oregon hoping
great happiness follows from being half my age

Too Loud

too loud
we left

Stored Up

how many people can you talk to at once
without being able to hear what they say
the main thing is to be there nothing else
needed the silence is elsewhere running
in the wilderness or on a bike stored up
for just such a precious unique occasion

Secret Meaning

pause for something else the
seasonal music goes right on
cock crows stomach growls
fingers tap on shallow keys
distant traffic begins its day

hereinall there is found no I
no doer needed thermostats
manage the house's comfort
silent struggle under covers
turns into normal waking up

what is the right thing to do
is this my life's satisfaction
or background to something
other beyond hidden secret
meaning still to be revealed

Slips Away

dream sentences don't have ends they just go on
lifelike they don't lead neatly from here to there
with a narrative arc beginning middle and end
so satisfaction is elusive only feeling can cohere
that too slips away a resonance a vague memory
awake is much the same with more movements

Barely Tuesday

today was never Monday
now barely Tuesday I am
counting down to Friday
flying through the air to
another world experience
when Monday comes again
we'll be happy to be home

Making Real

it's almost time for whatever's next
always teetering on the near horizon
the present inexorably unfolds slow
and also fast snapping shut behind
as we leave it for what we planned
invitations commitments we've asked
and given with physical circumstances
that arise from time itself making real
the tentative partialities filling our days

When Young

what you do when young
isn't necessarily final
but it was for Keats

Be There

if all I have to worry about is
what to wear it can't be so bad
even if unidentified organisms
agitate my systems annoyingly
I can forget about it for a party
be there whole-heartedly joyful

As We Were

people get around in stages
here it's always the present
conditions changing seasons
advancing beginning again
as we all must ever manage
seeing ourselves as we were
wearing an earlier wardrobe
to Naples Bohemia or Spain

A Better Theory

with the last obstacle removed I have no further excuse
not to go ahead and finish another long-simmering project
so the illusion of stasis will again dissolve and I can again
move on to another imagined reality coming into being

that it is never too late until it's over has been my creed
proved again again more times than I can easily enumerate
when the moment comes it happens no matter what else
arises in the interim to interfere and propagate once more

a better theory of history supports assertions reaches past
tropes familiarized by everyone talking about them at once
forgetting last year's unimaginably amazing developments
blurring what we remember not even noticing at the time

Smaller Bites

distracted by everything at once
even reading an interesting book
sitting in my own familiar chair
scratch writhe think of writing
setting the record straight at last
makes it hard to stay in the story
which deserves my best attention
to fully enjoy not miss the point

Rich Fall

the last of the cake and goodbye for now
just us and our ailments just time enough
to regroup before Ben and Dana's wedding
a flight a drive lots of people hurry home
more visitors come three thousand miles
rich fall before the quiet dream of winter

Being Ourselves

such fun having family here
men and women together we
cook do chores set up games
for tomorrow's birthday party

delicious days being ourselves
bouncing off each other easily
flow toward the end of youth
grateful that we are all alive

My Way

it's not up to me
or if it is it's very artful
as might be expected
I don't have to have my way
but I like to and more too
what other people bring
themselves unexpected ideas
energy I need to go on
plus what I bring to them
of craft and being me

All Over

done doing now the air
stops moving like time
paused for a gathering

actual traveling marks
transitory buying asks
why I ever leave home

cousin two years older
remembers what I did
never needed to appeal

if he doesn't satisfy you
move on while you have
time before it's all over

Hopeless Love

if I were dead what would people say
what impression did I make what mix
of fondness and irritation respect and
pure derision mixed with hopeless love

well I liked it when I was alive well
friended in spite of my weird attitude
we are all misapprehended somewhat
different to ourselves than others know

We've Arrived

nothing really changes
we go on being who we have become
only more so
looking to stay at home
enjoy the seasons
lie in the bed we've made
and walk the land where we've arrived

A Different Person

you don't want to do it
so find some other way

the thing will be done
somehow events occur

so if in doubt do it
or be sorry you didn't

if you're not in doubt
reconsider your sanity

or do something else
as a different person

Nice Times

nice to think of you I hope
you're well wellness is key

nice to see all your pictures
food people makes me sad

nice times go by so quickly
wellness slips fall arrives

nice knowing you I wonder
how long we will be well

Same Self

I could be in the speakeasy
drinking a good single malt
with a friendly willing woman
instead I am here with figs
why am I here where I am
why is anyone anywhere
but because of who they are
place is a key part of person
forming as we move about
I would not be my same self
if I were there and not here

Report

I itch all over
but only when I scratch

Warm Enough

that we forget everything
our pictures mean nothing
how we behaved that day
among myriad all distinct
any unbearable moments
end as night always ends

who will be remembered
for the one thing they did
a play or two a mad action
the child himself forgotten
coincidence with odd fate
remembering little valued

so the moment must suffice
appreciated while occurring
valued as part of a pattern
rhythmically coherent cool
and warm enough exactly
what was wanted all along

Options

a lack of options should never force acceptance of
what you know is wrong
what you would do instead is not do what they do
not doing is not an option
that does not mean you should accept whatever is
when you know it is wrong
what is obvious to you may be anathema to others
just as sure they are right
instead you will create something no one imagined
it spontaneously arises
everything happening everywhere at the same time

Fresh Thinking

dizzy just remembering the past
the present enough to deal with
this interlude before the next one
clears a space for fresh thinking

immediate existence ever denser
humming whistling sparkling an
inside texture thick and spinning
while I sit quite still in my chair

wandering through a busy world
I want to be where I am not move
go nowhere I haven't been before
till nothing remains of it but this

Tiny Tasks

the fact is art takes time
time takes doing to fill
will this do? tiny tasks
add up to small success

no time for big ambition
except precise refined
meaning pure as music
never a mistaken word

this is too much a time
stolen from non-being
squeezed into stanzas
beautiful Italian rooms

Natural Order

word precedes thought as existence precedes essence
words cluster into meaning each bringing its sound
sounds follow in their natural order becoming music
rhythm precedes music as the words clap and shout
heartbeat breath seasons and celestial orbits in sync
comprise a universal harmony and precede the word

What Else

this is not quite my wit's end
though I'm weary of my hands'
affliction don't know what to do

the dermatologist (an Indian)
exhausts the use of cortisone
has nothing else to offer

the allergist is booked solid
appointment three weeks out
my condition getting worse

burning palms thickened skin
cracks rash spots up and down
my arms and legs itch all over

something has to be done
but what? I don't see doctors
I talk to their office staff

something must be causing it
I've stopped swimming what
else do I need to give up

Mysterious Patterns

these documents I leave against my utter nonexistence
hoping someone will read them and taste my curiosity
about the mysterious patterns that constitute awareness
how curious this perfectly ordinary moment actually is
the night behind me with its turnings squirmings itches
picturesque suggestive dreams and subtleties of warmth
this day's evolved protocol begun as ordinarily despite
unusual variations in the situation and what I have to do
thinking it's always like this old and never fully known

All Good

the assumption is that the world is getting better
problems solved lives improved until it's all good
instead it is getting worse
why go on

I'm Fine

first I'm cold
then I'm hot
now it's raining
what is this
wobbling stasis

something hurts
then I'm fine
for a while
I might be getting sick
but I don't
then something else

keep working
and loving
balancing
on a thread
that is eternal

Chosen Lives

time doing us favors passing
weather conventions changing
seasons slipping slightly fast

if it didn't would we be better
no way we'd keep it up forever
bored impatient rarely in sync

we cherish our illusory control
step aside from historic events
acting the drama of chosen lives

the idea constantly falling past
I am frozen watch it disappear
unable to follow it into the dark

Who Wins

movie or dream cock
crowing on the soundtrack
disenables present memory
where was I what happened

sense impressions are not
the world they represent in
jeweled detail all we know
is how the body interacts

day has already unfolded
impingements balancing
radiations of inner being
given to the near and dear

surprises are the bottom line
who wins less apposite than
what happens in between
and how you feel about it

As Is

plainly myself
no collar to distract or frame or spin
a weathered barn
suggestive context
though I am not a farm poet
present myself unadorned
as is will do
looking at you

No Choice

all kinds of things going on in my head
yours too probably everybody who has
peace enough to parse the noise chaotic
inputs all at once multiple media other
people our own bodies before we get to
content anything you can think about is
critical wrong decisions come to roost
meanwhile attend to what's to be done
deploy enough time and energy to do it
you can you know you have no choice

New Reality

times have changed in so many ways
it's impossible to say what's normal
the very idea is obsolete outré unhip
absorbed in the new reality can't see
can't believe our eyes Donald Trump
the latest crazy symptom in your face
glue long gone everything falls apart
what we knew true no longer applies

Literal Action

the pieces fit together
like people in places
you never expected
or who knew whom
when we were young

discoveries emerged
lives exist as paper
documents of selves
beyond literal action
true hearts remember

someone else takes it
up or on enough seen
to identify the actors
if anyone really cares
he escapes into silence

Outside Drain

anything you speak of I have something to say
cooking has its history like our relationships
which in a way are surprisingly similar though
the individuals are completely different for
example I know a garlic farmer outside Drain
where you once worked for a doctor I forget
his name don't mention my friend's or that
whole other story we didn't even bring up

Thoughts of Buddha

everything is so well arranged you think
nothing can go wrong for you or anyone
but it can and will can you surmount it
I know you will unless it's really tragic
everything you depend on can be lost
will thoughts of Buddha help you then

Being Here

nothing beats actually being here
with someone or on your own or
ideally both with and you yourself

it has to be a place you want to be
doing what you like love and work
and healthy is that asking too much

you must get out of your own way
if that's a problem solve it grow up
get over whatever you blame it on

unless you are caught in a system
war poverty or criminal injustice
and suffer for nothing you can do

if I could I would set you free to
live love struggle make mistakes
find a way to be wherever you are

A Gavotte

there's no content it's a dance
not a song don't expect story
although kissing is involved
according to certain scholars
that's story enough I propose
to inspire its exquisite form

Added Value

eleven-eleven and all's well
except for my itching hands
in this particular lucky place

I can speak only for myself
my experience typical only
of my particular lucky class

made what of my unearned
advantages an added value
from diversity of interests

Real Rain

talking to the weather
that was thrilling I wish
you'd go on doing it for a while
first real rain in months
changes more than the season
which will probably revert
why go anywhere everything
happening right here at home

Knew Better

by the time you figure out how to be
you're old it's too late even Marlon's
life a downer better to tell it backward
is how we become our glorious selves
beautiful active manifesting our ideas
knew better than we know that was it

No Wonder

farm skills won't save capital managers
hooked on money it's part of the game
everybody in winners take all bets off
New York capital luxury consumption
no wonder we fled we played our hand
saved our hides books paintings paper
feed horses chickens make applesauce

Suffering Flesh

are these raspberry thorns embedded
in my suffering flesh the little ones
too fine to see until they get infected

don't tell me you don't know respect
we say what we mean even if we
don't know what it is why do I bother

you are here with me even when you
are somewhere else not me I stay
where I am and face the future here

Carry On

some days go better than others
we both know that but carry on
cheerfully even with afflictions
acknowledge which body parts
are failing now and go on doing
what we like to do our "work"
carefully punctuated with rests
balancing lapses with rewards
outside in come home to love

Actual Birthday

was this yesterday or today
or next Tuesday the actual
birthday anyway hooray we
eat well converse adore the
moon in all her many moods
this one mellow as can be

Still Alive

I forget to remember
what I prefer to forget

not that I renounce it
unrecoverably done

do not judge my past
I did what I could

mistakes hesitations
and some good moves

whole decades escape
empty of their fullness

here I am still alive
thinking I know it all

Showing Off

two more Mozart sonatas errors
hidden by the violin I can't hide
it is virtually a piano concerto if
only I could read music faster
Mozart's finesse delectable if
you play like him exactly right
what fun it would be to see him
frolicking shamelessly showing off
crafting exquisite solutions to
questions only he could ever ask

One Time

it only matters at the time
and yet leads to something

it mattered mainly because
it led to what happens now

you must embrace paradox
see with eyes of two times

one time always is this the
other all you can remember

and then there is the future
what will you make of that

These Days

everything starts early
I am up for it squeeze
more in than needed

gradually up to speed
time linked only later
readiness in waiting

anticipate pleasures
breakfast a workout
work reading solitaire
­
pick raspberries make
jam against the winter
these days still linger

Open Hearts

let beauty return open up
the mind's eye don't give in
to crass commercialism and
creeping suburbanization so
what if there's no place to go
to get away from temporary
conditions you can't stand

bring beauty back return
the many favors of the past
otherwise dreary situations
saved by flashes of bright
joy simple pleasures abound
natural processes unfolding
all around our open hearts

Imaginary Places

settings from dreams a huge
loft-like high-ceilinged room
from novels Saint-Malo 1944
Robert Heide's Key West are
as much where I am as here
our usually pretty farmyard
stunned by heat and drought
smoke trapping us inside for
now I need imaginary places
complete with companions
I am entirely free to enjoy

Two Days

remind me again what was it
card shuffler newest Franzen
anything you desire Amazon
can have to you in two days
if you want to wait that long
otherwise you're out of luck
stuck with the same old stuff

Plum Jelly

hot night over the hot stove
make plum jelly and granola
simultaneously boiling jars
the works never sit down

cooler days ahead then hot
again zero rain in prospect
what an exaggerated summer
none like it ever before

I Sweat

this isn't hot India
and Iraq are hot it's
hotter than usual I
sweat but so what
it could be worse

and probably will
be hotter than this
hazier and smokier
I hope you realize
this is our world

This Kind

imagine living in L.A. say
or Hanoi would I still be me
are not my chickens studio
household chores the essence

I am this kind of person now
small town character though
alien thinking big city thoughts
as I water weed sweep and mow

Catching Up

the future is at least as predictable as the past
most of your plans go off without a hitch but
what follows later is unknowable similarly
you know what you did but not the context
what others did when you weren't there what
they felt or even thought about it your own
thoughts and feelings entirely confused what
they meant and why you overreacted it was
simpler than you imagined still oddly strange
your own part not always what you meant

even what actually happened each must say
and all of them are dead and left no record
my memory certainly not reliable fragments
of stories told too often to myself and others
pared down to almost nothing and that vague
if not untrue my life not experienced as facts
but webs of circumstance and physicality in
action with others past and future changing
before we are anywhere near catching up

Too Late

arrangements are made then
circumstances change what
are you supposed to do then
no one likes change until it
happens when it is too late

or something else entirely
might offer an alternative
if you are open to it do it
no one is in control but you
can make some adjustments

or go with the flow and hope
history doesn't catch you out
fleeing for life with nothing
choice of no place one of
millions of surplus humans

Lucid Mind

if dreams were stories
and I could remember
I'd have a rich supply
whenever so inclined

instead I use the real
whims of lucid mind
inspired by anything
self-evident in word

make up characters
implying activation
in affective speech
doing as they must

they are myself as
much as I imagine
I am someone else
dreaming if awake

Part of Me

me doesn't stop even reading
a book by Haruki Murakami
I keep thinking of later my
hands keep itching the cock
crows the dog barks I hear
the town start up its machinery

what is it for this constant
sensory thinking must I go on
like this every day and night
forever is as long as I'm alive
even sleeping part of me is
still at it ready to be awake

Saying Less

if I am awake I must be dreaming
my feet enormous deep the chair
if I am asleep I'll write about that
accommodating everything I hear
without differentiation or despair
since I am somewhere in between
consider giving everything away
saying less playing music more

Country Life

Monpou's seductive harmonies die away
the frogs are heard again summer's flow
carries us forward in timely harvesting
grape juice jarred cherry tomatoes frozen
pears picked green to ripen in the house
and everything else ripening in its time
we are part of it embodying country life

Before Bed

if I could figure out what I almost know
I'd be as badly off as the poor prisoners
in the book I don't dare read before bed
everyone striving to survive and thrive
make sense of what happens to them it's
hard to think I know what hard can be
too late to do much about avoiding it or
sparing the world much more of the same

Perfect Resolution

what the notes mean proven
by the cadence can I think
that clearly without the keys

precisely when to say what
for maximum effect bring
perfect resolution of doubt

if I practiced more I might
save the world by rhythm
harmony none could resist

Turn Away

random input even here
where nothing happens

if it bothers turn away
attraction is more rare

I tell you what I dare
without embarrassing

Catching Up

goodbye to the coherent story
news we all can agree is good
premonitions of same disaster
picks us off one tree at a time

goodbye to what one expected
life means something else now
the numbers against continuity
anticipate our fate catching up

goodbye acting in the present
tension yielding to acceptance
what happens is what we are
touch it taste it believe in it

Hidden Regrets

secret worries hidden regrets
for others' foreseen mistakes
inexpressible observations
true but useless thwarted love

As It Is

disabled email anything can happen
without my knowing suddenly silent
like others before and after function

what to do when I can't do anything
just being is enough if I don't insist
expression seldom noticed as it is

A Clutter

now is when it happens
leaving a clutter in the living room
kitchen which I karmically clean up
their rooms unbreachable

then they will be gone
another summer gone with them
back to the city for homework dancing
lipstick giggles still enjoyed

indulge it while it's going on
because later it will be only memories
fading into generalities other years
the same and inexorably changing

Next Line

the blinking cursor patiently waits
there not there then there again
and so on for as long as you like

I like putting something there
as it moves it almost disappears
then waits for me on the next line

everything possible will happen
the word once said remains said
interesting if true frequently not

I try to be worthy of the void
allow the good stuff to fill it up
know its emptiness will remain

What I've Been Reading

"We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves: a Novel" by Karen Joy Fowler
"'Our Kind of Movie': The Films of Andy Warhol" by Douglas Crimp
"Dissident Gardens" by Jonathan Lethem
"Can You Forgive Her?" by Anthony Trollope (aloud)
"How to Be Both" by Ali Smith
"The Soundscape" by R. Murray Schafer
"V." by Thomas Pynchon (part)
"Happy All the Time" by Laurie Colwin
"Station Eleven" by Emily St. John Mandel
"Li Ho Reflux Tour 2003" by Mark Sargent
"Arts and Entertainments" by Christopher Beha
"Orfeo" by Richard Powers
"Memoirs of Hecate County" by Edmund Wilson (part)
"The Wallcreeper" by Nell Zink
"Tropic of Cancer" by Henry Miller
"The Making of Zombie Wars" by Aleksandar Hemon

Everyday Occasion

O.K. is still O.K. after all I said
we rise to the everyday occasion
heat softens but does not melt
unaccustomed as we are to change
family coming completes the year
fresh from Spain the Cape camp
same us different horses and cats
return visits sweeter over time

Final Chapter

there are things we can do
their plane delayed weather
here too but I think I won't
this is enough for one day

every day does more if less
than it used to be running
from one thing to another
years now since I can run

this recognition of what is
enables adjustments new
perspectives on who I am
become in a final chapter

Public Words

sometimes it may be wiser
not to say what I am thinking
up and down too precipitous
to be fixed in public words
to be mistaken as permanent
something more fundamental
thought-image cloudy logic
meaning may converge if I am
fully enjoying them at the time

My Tune

everything to be done at once
I decline I change my tune
then do it anyway tada! as I
always seem to go on doing

in fact it's one thing at a time
a little bit every day adds up
huge buildings rise movies
made one shot after another

In Between

dismantle habit structure accumulated pattern limit
nothing lasts for long in this in-between existence

what I like is sentences that may go on a long time
stop not be what was thought to be coherent echo

example this less more describes creative process
racing time the soundtrack changing for the better

Our Nature

reading a novel thinking of something else
so anything that happens is slightly annoying

we want to think we are the same we're not
our sensitivities natures differently tuned

something to be said for saying what you can
whoever you are, endeavoring to be truthful

not that it makes a difference in what happens
the author decides for reasons we never know

Here You Are

why is anyone anywhere
because you thought of it
and made a decision and
acted and here you are

or you were already here
never seriously considered
living anywhere different
and here you will remain

or came for school or job
or love liked it remained
found a job had a family
they will go you will stay

you're still you but place
delineates the possible
if you are what you do
what could you do here

No Time

time or no time
what you think
or what really is
no telling which

Free Time

do I "arrange things nicely for others"
as kind friend Daniel says I suppose
I do without meaning to if I imagine
something and eventually it happens

I feel I am merely indulging myself
as usual but others can be involved
if they have the time and interest
my time at this time entirely free

that's probably not what he means
publishing books or producing plays
demands elaborate arrangements
the "others" a necessity for meaning

it's true I want things to go nicely
and am willing to make a big effort
feeling connected indeed dependent
on others to make my life complete

Be Cool

what did I do to
compare to you
unbearable now
enacting agony
man be cool it
hurts less then
return to home
forgive all of it

A Plan

I have a plan
I have time for applied attention
I don't care how we do it
a plan helps though
ego aside

The Reasons

you said it you probably thought it
meant it believed it or imagined
you might make a good impression
if I thought you thought that way
not knowing what you really think
much less what might be the case
we blunder along trying to explain
the reasons for what we can't help
doing our best to do the right thing
carried along by our invisible times
no knowing what I would have said
if I had known what I never would
no catching up your future my past
or present from another perspective

Human Suffering

if only pain freed you
from the need to choose
how can you not move
and then there it is again

this is human suffering
not to be taken seriously
even if immersed in it
as we all potentially are

do what you can anyway
this is only part of life
continuous existing for
the purpose of decision

decide to still be here
since you already are
creation constant action
in defiance of mad chaos

Thought Bricks

because I think it doesn't mean I have to say it
to someone or write it down though if I don't it
might as well not have been thought unless I am
building an invisible structure of thought bricks
thoughts per se doing their work on their own
like both of us pursuing our individual agendas

Future Wonder

no one else cares
how can I think it
matters still I do

my life composed
as works of writing
this and many more

crystalline moments
embodied if never
dressed for church

stand monumental
beautiful cemetery
for future wonder

Other Reasons

can I change the meaning
or is it no longer available
fresh use replacing cliché
deep forgotten resonance
no longer in play anyway

the end only another now
unrecoverable afterward
like every before chosen
for other reasons no idea
what I was to do with it

New Ideas

the week begins with birdsong
construction traffic the world
reasserts its stubborn existence

a scatter of plans and places
for continuity and new ideas
on the ashes of former lives

this could be the day I find
the key the door possibility
always brimming of vision

Long Over

that was yesterday this is today
what was done was done before
who did what was necessary at
the time and a place long over

Just Enough

I didn't have to drive all the way
but it was right to pay for lunch
and coffee strong and just enough
as I am the mayor of the family
also poor me with no complaints
ready to keep doing what I do
as long as I can and still want to

Seen Alone

that you can't say everything doesn't mean don't try
you may even finish the thought in a single line but
links go back to everywhere William Carlos Williams
seen alone seeing memory sees other people's bodies
more real than his own organic life on its own agenda
easy until it isn't even the seasons are never the same

Wonder Still

the same thing in a different place
(to continue the thought)
may be the same but probably not
you are not the same here as there
(although your habits overlap)
time has passed and you are older
age makes everything different
you think you are the same person
but everything has different meaning
what is it you wonder still

Where We Are

where is as important as what happens
who is there is part of where
when hardly matters
except how old everyone is
which remains the same relative to each other
all getting old together
until we die
wherever we happen to be at the time
then nothing matters anymore

Just Live

what makes us think we can teach Iraqis how to fight
people need to stop fighting not fight better American
weapons don't do us much good only jobs and capital
eliminate munitions makers military prisons then what
massive unemployment bar fights cops gone berserk
what can be the matter with us can't bear to just live

Larger Rhythm

disappointment part of the larger rhythm
long established not worth threatening
as if what happens now can affect the past
we carefully accumulated trying to be good

such is life that not everything happens as
planned knowing that you can easily adjust
talking to whoever will expecting whatever
turns out to be the chapter that follows this

My Town

I'm proud to be of a country where
it's O.K. to be gay and smoke pot
although it isn't really most people
aren't or don't or won't admit it many
disapprove some of them violently

my town popping on Fourth of July
here and there little family units
doing their fireworks in the street
no cars moving most houses dark
teenagers roam in giggling groups

I lurk on the fringes on my white
bicycle barely able to see or remain
upright amazed at the new product
long burning full of surprises cheap
compared to what else we have to do

Saying Everything

what wasn't said wouldn't have made any
difference isn't it sad how we lose control
of even imagining anything different to be
ourselves again meaning glamorous young
potentially perfectible if we did it all right
that would have made us who we became
saying everything we can think of in time

Let Me In

today I can legally smoke marijuana
for the first time in fifty-odd years of
breaking the law of course even now
it isn't really legal the feds still there
still better that the state doesn't care
turning on in Oregon is not a crime
and never really was in my opinion
now let me in brother sister let me in

Good Reason

my morality of lightness
balances heavy world
just think how heavy
then let it float away
that kind of thing my
normative assumption
chosen for good reason

Spotted Shade

these fancies of another time might
have occurred to me old-fashioned
even at a time when they were new
my own world now past based upon
the recent past of my own childhood

no one lives in the present unless you
forget you can't go on deciding which
of the duties is yours which inherited
obligation of continuity this is not real
until the past is laid definitely to rest

if its roots are cut the tree will slowly
die losing limbs its shape drastically
altered contorted struggling for light
leafed out again casting spotted shade
in another season of feeding squirrels

Amazing Days

what had happened before mattered
because you carried it inside a secret
self you still had tender feelings for
barely adequate to the new situation
who am I now what do I need to do

the real you would still be there no
matter what you did given made up
of underlying expectations parental
familial contextual colored by class
and under that your own intentions

how can you know what you want
until you do it find yourself doing it
as if nothing else was possible being
where you were at the time all ready
waiting to see what you make of it

lose everything it still will be there
part of you now inexorably forward
something never changing in spite of
time conditions brutal facts amid the
amazing days you never can live again

Cool Acting

heat eats the day everyone going about dazed
stumbling barely able to talk decide anything
a break from doing means do something else
somewhere else Swiss lakes Italian churches

cool acting doesn't help we get it go on smile
have sex melodrama is better than no drama
we're looking for both art and entertainment
surprise us by daring more than you promise

Beyond Desire

what remains beyond desire beyond any future
all used up in youthful intensity and confusion

skin formerly smooth unmarked can still feel
texture temperature contact another electricity

mind sees its body as what it was becoming
body asks mind who are you and so what

let's see the facts floating on a page of lake
deny as you like time comes for everyone

Keeping Up

I don't want to think about China
even less the multiple countries
where terrible things are going on
millions displaced starving sick
I sympathise and care for the world
but what can I do I cannot save them
by being more aware of their plight
China gosz right on being Chinese
we all have history mostly tragic
the day to be lived is this one here
I am entirely occupied keeping up

Healthy Eating

I'm already behind already forgot
the most important situation or
circumstance that colors the air

breakfast will help it always does
homemade homegrown delicious
healthy eating for healthy minds

I still won't know what happened
in the night of darkness distance
only temporary frangible as time

I refuse to believe that things are
as bad as they are the going story
not my experience luckily for me

can't help knowing the numbers
even here on the richest farmland
observe the takeover and collapse

About Time

accumulated spin reassures repetition
until it doesn't stop thinking about time
if you can be here without reference to
memory or anticipation eternally return

executive mathematics displace feeling
you don't know what to expect although
you do having packed for countless trips
and always had everything you needed

Who You Know

am I the only one who wonders
whether speech changes what is
and might have mattered more if
writing is speech these days like
so much else deploring limits of
self-significane is hardly enough
to explain what you really mean
be understood by who you know

Don't Ask

the story is there in the background
everybody has a story I'm not telling
you know your own and if you don't
you're kidding yourself don't ask me

this is about what the story might be
about how you came to be so sweet
instead of someone else I don't know
who had a different story never told

choice only figures in occasionally
as you feel the decision being made
long before you decide to act on it
only then seeing how the story goes

Even So

you don't have to explain
how carefully and thoughtfully
you threw this together we know
there is never enough time
for old-time craftsmanship
even if you jump off the ship
or speeding bus that carries
everyone over the lemming cliff
or run along trying to keep up

panting rushed even when bored
you know that's not how time
works the regular beat goes on
too slow for animals to hear
actual transactions too fast
and many for eye and mind
don't even try to keep up

we know you're doing your best
it's not you it's your time
and place but even so it is
your only opportunity to live
free to connect with dharma
no way out but further in
synced with your chosen kind

I'm Here

what isn't written won't be counted
in the inevitable audit of my assets
my sons will have to decide what's
for reading finishing trying to sell
more than enough of it ready to go
if there's a place it will be welcome
too pitiful to think of no readers
willing to be interested in all this
the point being to have written it
to catch life going by say I'm here

Tough Skin

you want the system to break down
so that something better can emerge
but will the change be worth the pain
is it not just writhing Medusa's snakes
lava bubbling inside the ripped body
painful spots breaking the tough skin
you can't afford to be as soft as you are
needing order overwhelmed by weeds
dancing sprightly on the edge of chaos
horrified another backwater devastated
modeling innocence no animal can feel
to open up a space where life improves

Let's Not

let's not think so much about death
and divorce isn't there something else
or have the possibilities been used up

Whole Story

what of what I tell you or myself is true
and not a story I made up and tell again
what I thought was happening was only
part of the story God might tell if he was
telling not the whole story either many
ways of looking at the same thing which
is never simple no one thing acting alone

if I were smarter and knew more it might
help keep things in perspective probably
not no one likes dying and dies on time
get used to it only goes so far then what
smart people lose grip and favorite gems
lose their meaning and sense of feeling
true as they may have been in their prime

Mere Acting

this is mere acting you are
not entirely here where then

bemusedly being yourself
going through the motions

come back to me now this
instant needs you present

or is it myself acting myself
as from earlier learned sides

this after that because scripted
requires my attention as well

then may the passion emerge
and the life of the music flow

Being Now

two days slip by
nothing done but
what it is recall
easier comfort

obscure desire
faintly echoes
failing body
rejects return

nothing hurts
if I don't move
better answer
young again

imagine that
years to come
no alternative
to being now

No Plants

the neighborhood is changing closest neighbors
moving away three new houses being built well
drilled field across the street sold to fellowship
sprayed poisoned dead no plants around their ugly
church junkers dug up from blackberry mound
trees coming down parked cars glittering we can
move if it gets too bad but probably won't have to

Being Chickens

what a pleasure it is to have chickens
they scurry about peck exhibit behaviors
speak a vocabulary of clucks and squawks
they speak to me lay eggs eager for treats
pursue their less than individual lives
being chickens being chickens is enough

Ordinary Prose

Four o'clock. Hours to go. Not hot yet. Itching. Chirping. Fanned. Between poetry and prose I choose prose. Not ordinary prose. Not expository, descriptive, narrative, psychological, philosophical, expressive, evocative, clear, specific, analytical. Not that. I could go on. I can always go on. I often have. Often I have little to say. Even so. Musico-structurally deployed, punctuation may help. Full sentences usually do. Paragraphs occur spontaneously. The eye adapts. Everything adapts to everything else. Or is destroyed. As entity. Even the idea eventually forgotten.

When You Can

by the time you know enough
it will be too late to do anything
you must act in spite of darkness
like a blind person in a spotlight
perfect understanding never comes
the right moment is when you can
do something then something else
then you will have done enough

Other Lives

index of another era
multitudes passing through
to other lives or not
was that the appropriate use
of their talents if any

mine wore thin I moved on

not wanting to remember
we told ourselves it was important
in its time it may have been
eccentric taste outré fashion
to be marveled at

Having Been

real is what it is now
no matter what we had in mind
when we set it up
set it in motion
made choices
imagining an entirely different basis

this is the natural order
however distorted it seems to us
this can't be right
evidently it is
all there is
after the consequences are revealed

how will it all work out
more or less as we always knew
life stages flowing
counting down
flourishing
becoming becoming having been

Pure Intention

I don't have to see photos I was there
looking at photos is another trip back
in time sterilized playing out the ideal
as image deliberately acting the roles

I was there as myself in pure intention
incidentally taking in everyone's game
gamboling unseen in the hidden desert
let it remain in memory hope promise
what may be able to occur in real time

Wet Dog

if there was no good way in or out you would have to stay in or out
or scramble down the slimy wall and hope you could get up and out again
the air better outside if anywhere your friends having a party in the other room
the minnows were gone but the pitiful wet dog needed to be rescued
if you didn't do it no one would follow your example nothing happen
cisterns may be coming back we have to think about water use a whole new way

Roots and All

peculiar satisfactions dot my hours
weeds that come up roots and all
a hand of solitaire that works out
fingers find Beethoven's own notes
our own vegetables eggs and meat
felicitous phrases appear unbidden
seasons weather generations love

Lost Chord

nothing plunges like nothing else
releases lost chord idea unheard
the presence you can't think of

it's there every moment noticed
when nothing else is in the way
untranslatable except in action

therefore do everything nothing
stands in your way go around
it will try to stop you don't let it

Amazing Day

my amazing day cued
in by the A&P cashier
I had hardly noticed it
corny but did the trick

stalled all morning in
shallow water I finally
took action recovered
and did amazing deeds

the weather cooperated
too pleasant to criticize
if so inclined I'm over
knowing how to judge

Even Less

self-sufficient as we like to think we are
no one is
even less when old
everyone knows it
but doesn't know what to do about it
in a culture of scattered family
two better than one alone
reliant on staff
or nothing

Common Good

did I cheat and does it signify
if I am playing against myself
certainly not for public glory
or amusement another time
we keep making a point of it

the way of the game is private
like life decisions needs space
clarity confidence you are you
and have to be the way you are
deciding for the common good

Later On

what there is emerges when summoned
echoes of forgotten yesterdays as real as
what you wanted or thought you wanted
still not knowing observing what comes

and then that too is gone or transformed
into what you have to deal with later on
still resonating in its cave of time what
came before what formed unfolding now

What to Do

cloudy all day beginning
with the vanishing dream
consciousness wakes first
complaining mind clearly
remembers where we were
before pills coffee cleanup
gone to matutinal birdsong
rushing heat instead of sun
same comfort another story
visitors from far what to do

Not Myself

illness offends the aesthetic of wellness
no blame but I am not myself like this
wanting to fade to nonexistent comfort
inaction devolving into aches and pain

was that the way my parents felt father
in his chair reading books on tape mother
in her chair smoking rereading a novel
me in my chair twitching over a laptop

who is comfortable how do I get there
this is the shape I am get over the idea
so long embellished of being thin again
even less the quick lithe bouncy old me

Morning

I'm up
now what

From Below

clouds vaguely billow up from below — barely visible — dissolution — The Fire — Refugio befouled — inevitable breakdown — all systems must fail

Random Offers

what a what to have given in to what
is missing if the wigs are not smartly
left on a gilded red-cushioned chair

I do appreciate that brand of luxury
despite everythig that has happened
and goes right on all over the place

and welcome the opportunity despite
random offers to do less or nothing
too tired for anything more than weed

Surplus People

what can be done about surplus people
crowd them on boats and let them starve
put them in camps and try to forget them
generations now knowing nothing better
is this real life is this how it's meant to be
more and more no place no good choice
this the biggest obstacle to sustainability
ten times too many people on the earth
face it think about it what are we to do

How Far

not over soon enough remember
what it is like to be someone else
forget the wishful good intentions
unless you intend to act them out

it is not too soon to start too late
to do anything about it mistakes
were made and brilliant art works
hardly noticed in the glare of war

visitors from another age reveal
how far one came to be here now
regretting most what's not ahead
as soon as we could say goodbye

Past Marvels

is that rain or the dishwasher
you or a virtual simulacrum
coming to me courtesy of
what tech conspiracy passes
for actual life in one place

is that what we talked about
opening up what's left of our
hearts desire a blast of past
marvels irrelevantly evoked
to justify merely being here

Who Knows

every face a different shape person
identified not revealed who knows
what any expression means feeling
or intention looking at the audience
tells you nothing of what they think

somehow we guess well enough to
function more or less together this
plan like most works out someone
sleeping in the other room waking
to the possibility of something else

Getting Old

kings and ones call the game
nothing else really matters
those awful in-between years
twenty-five to seventy-five
before that you are young
after you are getting old

everything changes it may
not show go on the same
although not as easily now
who knows my pain but me
whose do I know no one's
ready to be revealed at last

Motor Transport

continually picking up and tossing away
maintain tidiness amid wild proliferation
no stopping the flow of goods or goodies
everything depends upon motor transport

is this part of a process of natural growth
like weeds and grass in the flower garden
like rain when you want to work outside
like overpopulation extinction of species

do we have any choice of how to behave
details don't matter there is nothing else
thinking to be unique we are all the same
this is how we live because of who we are

Too Much

save don't save your changes
amounts to the same thing as
forgetting after remembering

write to write not to be read
if you don't care no one will
unless you give them a reason

the cloud a swarm of servers
keeps every single useless bit
until the power fails all gone

the text itself is what I think
largely unwritten if it were
it would be much too much

Another Night

patterns of expression reveal underlying thought forms
the yes but, if not this then that, a good idea but flawed,
another example of, the which when that would serve,
depending on commas to keep the syntax in fair order

that's why we edit ourselves identify break bad habits
they are not merely verbal but architecture of the mind
formed in a different time and place for other purposes
translated interpreted relied upon light in another night

Hidden Mark

anything is a story if you tell it
otherwise vanishes preforgotten
leaving its hidden mark on you
that no one will ever understand

therefore compose yourself right
as if Dante watched and judged
hell is waiting around the corner
in case you forget to love heaven

While Waiting

if I think of something I will tell you
otherwise everything will stay the same
will you remember what I said before
I have forgotten everything you told me
once spoken nothing can be taken back
morning comes when you least expect it
this is what one can say while waiting

Central Issues

if I could read one thing
for more than a few minutes
at a sitting if I could think
through my ideas I might
begin to grasp affect theory
central issues in everything
I have ever tried hard to do

instead I manage with bits
of this and that fragmented
implications resonant with
my own stark realizations
outdoing personal mortality
inconvenience I can live with
while waiting to understand

Woo-Woo

woo-woo doesn't mean anything to anyone
except me in a certain mood when it's exactly
right as in "a woo-woo language that everybody
can speak but no one can understand" or what
I say to myself when my head spins whatever
the cause try to enjoy it wish it would be over

Equally Real

unacknowledged likeness gift enough
no need for recognition paid affective
satisfaction included in your copay

not-like more the point of discovery
that different angles are equally real
friendliness enough not being friends

general intimacy art's purview life is its
own story expertise enough a moment
of her time asymmetrical remembering

Do Right

on a clear day it isn't clear
when it will all be changed
clouds or not rain where it
is less needed lakes empty

a more definite encounter
explains whether to sleep
alone or not at all warmly
prepared for what will be

if more sense is required
ask anyone what you can
do right by your child is
first the next bit to follow

Real Shoes

real shoes for the real world
where am I then here now in
slippers after sneakers as we
used to call them all day until
I went to the city put on shoes

Evening Air

they were away the house thinking
it might have some quiet for a change

nothing ever stops happening though
you can take time out for daydreams

the dust settles cottonwood catkins
float on the evening light showing air

if not remembered it didn't happen
but it did you know everything does

A Fantasy

I pose as my father posed as his
but something other came to be
queer possibility broke the chain
I did not get stuck the same way
apart from our shared mortality

does this example prove anything
besides another chance outcome
how can I entirely free my sons
or is the past their prime capital
transcendent change a fantasy

Before Anything

no one dies the same
sun prepares to rise air
once more renewed cool
in its unwonted warmth

having set the stage exit
before anything happens
leaving everything ready
for someone else to act

Which Day

weeding cooking I forget which day I wrote
or not wanting to miss a movie read a book
this too tight pattern loosely holds the reins

you go away in order to return refreshed we
miss each other's presence closeness known
only to ourselves within the envelope of time

twice today recovers non-occurring plans I
thought were already over adjusting easily
enjoying absence as readily as being at home

Still Here

in the gap I catch a glimpse of myself existing
between doing distracting rushing to catch up
silent voice in head tripping over its own feet
wording wordless excavating forms forgotten
in the push to be here now modern au courant
I'm still here still becoming who I want to be

Staying Home

if you don't like anything anymore
what then watch out danger ahead

everything is as it was not entirely
what you imagined in growing up

couple same farm animals change
community evolves ourselves too

is anything enough if so what then
weed woo write worth staying home

The Day Begins

I don't want to write
all the time but what
else is one to do before
breakfast then the day
begins and doesn't stop

then it's done and I can
read or play with my
Rubik's cube or solitaire
see what thoughts arise
to fill the amazing day

Not Knowing

I only know what I know (or can look up)
it's not enough I am always learning more
trying to do better find out what's right there

I wouldn't be wrong if I could help it or put
my elbow in my ear known fool who isn't
willing to say what I think not knowing

if you find out tell me why should I agree
you are no different more serious because I
need to believe it worth saying even as it is

One Memory

if I don't know no one does
the others who were there
are dead each one memory
only lasts as long as we do
sweet but not to be trusted
to be true or what mattered
all remembering is action in
the present tense then gone

Much Better

error is forgiven if you tried
try not to hurt yourself or
innocent bystanders lovers
vulnerable animals all
get it right the next time
close enough much better
practice where no one hears
as perfect as you can is fine

A Ray

hotter and hotter pressed to sell
yourself the product embodied
case made by whatever you do
jury of planets and atmosphere

only within do I find meaning
mine theirs there in a mystery
cloud I am a particle and a ray
consumed in time of becoming

Last Resort

by Daniel Potter

The rooster finds love rising
before dawn.  Declares
our last resort: enjoy the pain!

Hear echoes in your cry for help, Comanche
shouting ride the horse.
Feathers flying mean you feel
big spaces, hunger's attention, longing love.

Who's not seduced when rippling patterns lift
our smiling to a god in lakes of fish?

Remember, gravity in Captain Death's museum
shapes the soul's mantle through appearance
but who will share her innermost resort?
Sh.  The Pope is washing feet.

Rising Sun

cloudless sky rising sun
touching treetops orange
becoming newest green
the bright light clarifies

so the mind reidentifies
forgotten dreams waning
familiar tropes reemerge
sounding just like himself

Do More

tomorrow I will think about Freddie again
for Gerard who has many questions puts me
much earlier in my story many changes since

I don't want to go there haven't I squeezed it
dry dismayed by my own erring innocence
as if anything could have come out different

anyway it all worked out pretty well Johnny
wasn't busted did what he liked succeeded
and I've enjoyed three more wonderful lives

it can't hurt me now I'll make a book of his
collages reawaken ghost and take a chance
do more is all I can one moment at a time

Bare Will

just me and my mind stream
twinkling down the av-e-nue
of trees and dreams and broken
hearts have little to do with this
episode of learning how to do it

bare will quietly self-expressed
without regard for praise or gain
who could recognize it anyway
distracted by their own hunger
gratified and ready for more

More Breakfasts

is it better to be bigger to do more
count words trips to work or across
the country oceans orgasms books

gravity loves flesh buoyant bones
can hardly hold it up it aspires to
levitate clings together in ecstasy

is it more to be big and dramatic
dig into art insist on being right
despite inertia change your mind

you ask because you want to know
more breakfasts problematic tasks
accomplished before you realize

Hard Enough

I pass the test just clear enough
as I was always telling myself
I could do more so why didn't I

but wait there's more self-doubt
to go around twice asking why
as if how to wasn't hard enough

adequate is never good enough
to go for nothing doing nothing
gained is a foothold to continue

Life Force

a great life ends all done
goodbye friend thank you
for your generous sharing
wisdom insight inspiration
fun when all else serious

what I too am waiting for
but in the meantime work
know the world needs us
life force demands action
for love peace justice joy

Letting Go

let go of personal concerns
present net we hardly notice
cruel rider relentless spurs

let go what you have to do
will happen when you do it
future be here soon enough

read a book see a play really
listen to music take a walk
you need a break then work

work not personal but holy
you need it to feel complete
soul force precious within

Another Time

I have an enormous amount to say
I could start anywhere
built up inside for decades
have I forgotten something
reminds me of another time
another story significant to me
meanwhile the present
continues to accumulate

An Action

inside these clothes
inside this skin
not more real
but equally
these limbs
disposed in space
at rest
thinking
feeling
existing
as an action

Separate Preparations

bare witness if you must my shallow
shame on separate preparations for
further construction our future past
devolves into programmed childhood
expectations and adolescent dreams

move on if you can at least protest
unpaid-for crimes and adventurism
as if inevitable you choose yourself
eager yapping caged in your own
predictable unfolding made-up myth

One Eye

I can't keep doing this winging it
by which I mean I can and will
I still have one eye one arm enough
for almost everything I want to do
imagining myself timeless I am not

others make their poems perfect I
write fast whatever comes is what
I am thinking attentive to the day
here everywhere now whenever
whatever it is requires to be said

Beats

in the dream the measure may
not have the right number of beats
that's how you know you're dreaming

Counterpoint

what does reading do is it play
solitary or together structures
time something else happens
to counterpoint the everyday

this contrast what's required
to refresh sensations stasis
fades them into background
as if anything mattered more

Keeping Track

nothing is too obscure
that could be said without calling down
thunderbolts
algorhythms
keeping track of your every move
but not telling unless
you are prepared to pay who's counting
words worth nothing anymore
say anything you are prepared to defend

Come Quickly

oxen more sure-footed than horses for example
intrudes welcome distraction from unknowing
browse as the light finds its way soaks the sky

answers come quickly questions denatured by
habit media inadequate brain practical situation
writing on water gone before actually engaged

what I am striving to think about too large too
everything to say guide action thought is act
when you do what you mean take being for real

Not Right

no one is saved
but by particular circumstance
you may be out of the way
for a little longer

personally thankful
humanly ashamed
helplessly going along
heart broken forever whole

until the end
this manifestation
reabsorbed into the soil
having done what I can

I wish it were more
cry out to what heaven
this is not right
this is not what we are

only the actual one on one
under the waxing moon
lives the moment
passing into eternity

Used to It

get used to it well you do
but don't give in completely
nibbled away losing grip
wisteria not budding pink
lady feeble don't give up
something can be done or
not if anyone knows better

Not Me

dreams introduce confusion
like a good manager this is
me but not me you but not
the way you really are says
nothing may even interfere

they linger into the day like
something you have lost or
forgotten to remember is an
effort rewarded by salvage
of what you no longer need

Chalk Smoke

if I do not mention silence it is because there is none
the bird scrabbles against the window the furnace
switches off if there were I wouldn't be able to hear it
through the hissing in my ears the outside penetrates
attention caught where given undistracted opportunity

if there were I would treasure it not afraid of emptiness
unnatural state imagined as it never was or could be
a blackboard never clean but clean enough its natural
texture not too smooth or black chalk smoke from banged
erasers soft thud helps teacher interrupted by the bell

Get Down

dreaming of a self looking for
the pair of pants I'm wearing
go to the city and come home
get down in the dirt and weed

writing music unfolds in time
and has an emotional itinerary
says Corigliano through Muhly
so think ahead to make a thing

Dead Parents

what is not there is not missed
unless it is like dead parents I
can't believe they are not alive
wondering how I am hoping I
am fine having their own lives

I saved "Heidi" from the library
stack Malina will like it as I did
when she is older I will read it
out loud to her if I can still read
and she comes to visit Grampa

Tell Me

I often do and as often don't
he said tell me but I won't

I know what I want to know
even though you wish I didn't

and I won't tell you the rest
until you ask it of me nicely

On Noise

too much machinery silence no more
roaring loud clanking three doors down
children shrieking is it an amusement
everything is mechanized no other way
the faraway stars offended glitter silent

Underlying Aims

reading is helpful to writing if you want it
to be about something you didn't think of

underlying aims elude awareness even if
you think you know your own workings

how can I be me except you are you both
known and unknowable acknowledge that

Do Good

band practice let's get lively
forty pounds of layer pellets
isn't heavy to a strapping kid

piles like clouds bright above
dark below underwhelming me
as if I knew what was going on

what should be said says more
than what shouldn't do good
shun evil sustain your practice

Extra Time

I seem to have extra time
two hours before breakfast
a couple more late at night
sleep six a nap after lunch
never late only eyes tired
still twelve for actual day
how long can I keep it up

Regardless

back to basics four-limbed breathing planetary
Neanderthal genes modify sapient aggression
and what of all the rest we spend our time on

you are not what I imagine imagining yourself
regardless he is what he has become of himself
thanks family constant love and pass the torch

Life Goes

I'd be glad to drop dead
so don't feel bad if I do
if you can help it death
is part of how life goes
sorry to leave my loves
collections tasks undone
but I have done enough
and still will love you
who I am and ever was

Between Cities

no more eels will be found to satisfy
the poem rather pitifully dressed in
white linen never glamorous enough
did you eat them before climb a tree

this too was in Italy near Firenze I
prefer the real name no longer to be
singular or with someone on our way
between cities a few country friends

Home Comforts

to live in one place and stay there
unless they burn it down force you
out not everyone has to move ever
home comforts more vital than any

others feel different at other times
urged to go somewhere anywhere
drive view different vistas glowing
with unknown days with strangers

fear of being unprepared weak ill
I can't go on don't want to go away
loving my life limited as it now is
the time to be here as long as I can

Inside Out

picture whatever you like
according to capacity the
moment has already passed
your thoughts preoccupied

do you have it now turn it
inside out or upside down
according to configuration
or let marinate overnight

wasn't it refreshing letting
go of your preconceptions
for once is the only choice
beyond the same old thing

Being Sorry

to astound is to addict
to addict is to control
anything can be equal
stop while you still can

punch in the code and let loose
every meaning is a contribution
what is unsaid can be taken back

apologize for not feeling exactly the same
differences are the lingua franca of regret
spoken among the natives if there are any
being sorry helps some but never enough

Peaceful Avenues

whether it was well willed stills
when the wind drops teasing us
with raindrops and cats in trees

changing our way of time at last
frees feelings forgotten if unfelt
opens peaceful avenues of acts

everything gets done or not less
critical than we once imagined
works out not necessarily well

who will judge if we are gone
what matters on what basis in
what currency can sum itself up

where then is this thought going
through vagueness into crystal
this it self-knowing undeceived

Big Family

what fun hanging out with Eadie
and friends good food wine cookies
everybody loosened up and happy

over too soon we should be together
all the time like that big family sharing
another springtime of our lives

this is the small town big city way
before we all go home or up to bed
in our individual habitats of habits

What Is

allowable pleasure balances inevitable pain
letters tumble over themselves all those a's
as if saying something obvious should hurt

rise above or face it squarely let be what is
there is no alternative the old man insisted
bringing it all down to the mundane level

of course you're right I said not believing it
makes a difference who you are each of us
different and ethically obliged to express it

Cutting Back

put back the cards away the blocks
he'd rather play solitaire than see a
play play music read a book watch
a movie talk walk anything really

he'd gladly eat at the same time a
sweet or nutty snack if it weren't
Lent is hard to take seriously but
a useful moment for cutting back

surely better charge ahead while he
can embrace pleasurable sensation
be whatever shape he is not ideal
but nothing is better than what is

In the Act

hidden network of associations
exposed in the act of following
constitutes aforesaid hypogram
this is how it unravels in action

only glimpsing completely yet
too perfected not to be shallow
when time stops interrupting I
may even tell you what I mean