Nov 29, 2014 | Uncategorized
71.
If you keep going along this path
no road signs or they all point to
heaven
gorse I said or whin or keep you off
and green
I am a thing of books and boundaries
a headless god at the bottom of your
garden
stone and with a word or two in bad
Latin
chiseled in what I took to be my
heart
as if the earth needed reminders we
are here
or we do and always will, see how the
wind
caresses me sun remembers our nights
together
we slept on the Hill of Tara her very
grass
and never woke all this since is one
long dream.
72.
Ireland it and look again
woodcock whooshes past through sunset
lives by the No Trespass sign
the fairy mound back there that no
one knows but you
though sometimes I think I see them
walking there
in and out of the mind’s view
giving names to things and changing back
again
the fairies are the editors of earth
rinsing the sinews of our experience
no one can look at the same leaf
twice
but one bird can come twice to your
hand
carefully choosing random seeds that
you extend.
Nov 28, 2014 | Uncategorized
69.
Connect the shortcut with the longer
route
the stone that stays in heaven in the
lowland hear
we heard a dragon do I know what your
eyes mean
while a mile away your lips are
saying
spent the morning worshipping a child
another child
sea wrack and prophecy read from an
old book
older than Bible and full of stones
half my New England acre
because the river is the boundary
song the failed permission
gladiolus every minute and the blue
hydrangea
blooming as we speak but you are
silent
crisscross prophecies the bird tells
it all
invisible blackbirds piping in the
gorse.
70.
Mercy remembers all the strange names
gave to bedfellows ivy and she was
thistle
and herself the only mistletoe
semaphore hard to know how come it’s
over
the little songs of sinking ships the
atoll
lubricious indexes of unread books
I can tell your daydreams from your
midnight
because we rode together battered car
not far
never count shooting stars the way
lovers do
or daisy petals but we were angels
too
in love with not being in the body
but we were child
and children know the world is just their
guess.
Nov 26, 2014 | Uncategorized
Robert Kelly reads in Bard Hall, November 22, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 | Uncategorized
67.
Poem day they call it in Cathay
Kitaj Ezra Sandra Fisher Thomas Meyer
great ones of a single paradigm
no one but you could understand
the point is to learn your place in
the hieroglyph
the paradigm you belong to unknown to
each other
the forest of Broceliande Allen
Fisher Alan Halsey
Nathaniel Mackey Michael Hartnett
these are the Makers in one long
chamber
Wagadu to Erigal that wave of shout
music made them and the earth had
sense
they lift the hill like heroes and go
in.
68.
Everybody’s strong in the sense of
saying so
the word hurled all night just said
today
it is the breath of Vayu who are you
gods of storm
wet wood and anxious trees and bird
in trouble
but the sea calm we live in paradox
under the original apple tree among
the ferns as far
west as the road lets us go before
the rock
topples into silence that boulder
smile
I am no man and came here before I
was
and before a thought of you troubled
the singularity
you angel you meaning of my life with
your own wings
I stumble along to keep up with your
swift shadow.
Nov 24, 2014 | Uncategorized
65.
Any hand that touches is a dead man’s
hand
you feel old Time along your skin
caressing or pressing leaving small
scratches
later you can read as words runes or
oghams
or just the southern whiteness of
your back saying nothing at all
of course we want the body of the
other to talk back
what else is other for but revelation
apocatastasis and the whole cosmos
reels back to the start
before we were one and two and many,
mind
a white sail far out on an old sea
up to you to tell if setting out or
coming home
weird cargo and all the sailors sleeping day
and night.
66.
On the fifth day of the fifth month behooves
to mount
highest point on the island view of
other islands
what more can a word do but open the
door
other words on other words sending
sea light before storm
storms remind us of where we’re
coming from
so much mercy so little sense we call
it police
we live inside it as if it had a roof
over it
it has nothing up there but numbers
we live in a machine
or we live as a machine this beach is
pure numerical
this seven is a diamond ring my
mother wore all the time
I saw the same blue light in crystal
once in the Himalayas
what was I doing there what was my
name.
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