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.
Nov 22, 2014 | Uncategorized
63.
Don’t go to it wait till it comes
harvest in springtime summer will be
wet
we hid in caves because caves are
most like ourselves
impenetrable far dark dangerous and
wet
being there we could be safe from
ourselves
a new mind in an old place
we lick the place with fantasy alone
quick shadows on the ceiling nothing moving on the floor
metallic aftertaste you sucked a leaf
of rain
copper in the blood sunshine
headaches too
we are the other kind we live beneath
you
the highest thing we think is
somebody else.
64.
Great shapely white bells on the
stalk tall as a woman who?
But the rainbow understands such
things heavy heavy
but do we deserve what of course you
do the moan or muffin
I walk over water as you walk over
fire
close to being afraid but love the
vista
wanted to offer you intricate syntax
Brownian movement never at peace and
even
melodic resolutions suspended over
the abyss
exaltations yet to come, confuse us
great Egyptian energy the neters
that were axes
stand by the river that was once a
human spine
but what a woman! the whole of
Africa.
Nov 21, 2014 | Uncategorized
61.
Not sure what the giving gave a beak
in bark
drink your tea he cries a bird
instructor on the empty moor
everything climbs o let the creature
out
the little lamp that lights our
garnet cavern
sweet aquifer deep riddled with ideas
those toxins of thinking those
premature concretions
just keep thinking the car’s not
there yet
this rolling motion the cello taught
the sea
everything began with us we carved
the fossils in our sleep
smooth skin rough bark all the pain
at once
the world was created ten minutes ago
when you looked out the window and
saw the tree.
62.
Don’t say a name here say a thing
instead
a king grows wary after Pentecost
all those green Sundays and no dragons
God sends sometimes an anchorite to
rouse
tepid thinkers to outrageous absences
silence is a dragon of its own
the dear knights try to conquer it
with song
I’ll never be popular I’m a man
priestless sat together sitting
together is a mode of prayer
who benefits from this stone altar
who tastes the woodruff in this May
wine
master of the forest undefiled by
speech.
Nov 20, 2014 | Uncategorized
59.
Bellini everything yawnless beauty
bellezza
footnote to a lifetime folly lived to
be wise
I have stared at the sea until it
dissolved me
hydrangea who remembers heaven you
dream
a new geology exploring America by dream
find the lost city Beyond The Senses
on the plain
my heart or is it soul is waiting for
me there
raft me your river hitch me your
trailer
lighthouse in the daytime too wink
your red eye
aboriginal light light of sea poppies
too much said
on the terrace with Zukofsky’s
luminous vowels
and the upper bay thronged with
Danish ships.
60.
Climb up to the cellar of the sky
this hill from heaven
o I was brought up with a bone the
meat was just remember
data be our only money gold coins in
colza fields
I slip them in your pocket from
behind rich rich
the clouds walk here before us white
cliffs of over
great ship plows up the losses we
spring from flowers
birds in your hair the old dog led us
home
they sent me to the jungle to look
for you
ice and ash seeping from the wellhead
wind because
the elements of wanting are another
so much was near
Columba or be Yonah bird abaft my
shoe
the head moves fast the body
slow.
Nov 19, 2014 | Uncategorized
57.
If anyone is there to give me need
let me be your favorite machinery
to think you’re meaning something
count the phonemes and link the most
frequent
yielding the secret title of your
flesh
people walking deep inside the bread
break me open and let me out
you also are imprisoned in this tower
taking care of children may be
pyramid enough
for I have gone with you to Egypt
once or twice
riding on your shoulder or your hip
counting the stones at Karnak with
dead eyes.
58.
For I was lapis after all and Danube
delta
down there where they still have
weather
mind perturbed by mower not what I
mean by mind
now long legs warmed by sun renimble
ocelot breakfast but I feed on sight
of the sea
let me feel this me I am this place
the goldfinch at the thistle seed
answer enough
clouds coming over help me to
pronounce
sleep between the syllables and wake
re-meant
clouds give the sea its color back come
guess at me
Wren’s chapel in the Strand strange
altars weary gods
smattered with personality everything
revise away.
Nov 18, 2014 | Uncategorized
55.
Falstaff rises from the water subtly
changed
his laundry basket floats away
downstream
here he’s as wet brand-new as Moses
it takes more than shame to wash old
lusts away
rush of the wild ox through fields of
barley
the maiden thrilled at last consents
to be cast into the contingency of
another’s desire
these are what we forget as we walk mild
in the street
caught in the meshes of other
people’s fantasies
read Coleridge chapter XIII how
little we dare to create
how much we brilliantly remember
use the typewriter at the bottom of
the well.
56.
There is no mainland it’s all Ocean
River
coarse voices of drowned fishermen
finally learn to whisper as the waves
kiss shore
hush and hiss and come between our
skin
in a child’s voice we hear last
echoes of someone else
lost echo Hart Crane to be a poet in
America how strange
take the rhymes away and then you’ll
see
language is continuous I’m giving you
soft white as new parchment and a
bird at my foot
it’s starting again a raft of meaning
floats up and down your spine this
trembling reed
as if you were married to a baker and
slept in his bread.
Nov 17, 2014 | Uncategorized
53.
I can do nothing to help you but go
to sleep
in my dream your destiny propose
city after city with huge parks in
them
a green so broad it holds an ocean
snug
the other side of color is a man
basalt rough carved to look like you
a tree is meditation
crosslegged contemplative of Roquepertuse
graphic reference like a crowded train
filled with drowsy reveries
enough imagework in there to build a
Parthenon
but there are no virgins left no ratios.
54.
You don’t know where you’re going
till you’ve left the place behind
raptacious the old word is a hawk in
your head
close to the parapet the first time all
Paris known
for I was there in person for a
change
not one of Atget’s pigeons the shadow
on the wall my own
we live lives parallel with ourselves
from far out at sea you can see the
way we move
deed making deed the wind blows it
all away
read the wakes of light we leave
behind us
parallels meet at the infinity called
mind
where you slip your shoes and
backpack off
and children chase their gaudy mother
down the street.
Nov 16, 2014 | Uncategorized
51.
So the sun keeps rising I keep gloom
to myself
mockingbird on the rail in love with
half an apple
sing to me Caruso sing to me all your
arias
you like me can be anybody else
to hide my own song in another’s
they say Pavarotti could not read
music
so he had to become Nemorino Edgardo
Cavaradossi
flesh became song oh the fat ones we
were
to impersonate myself unlock the
truth
read the horoscope of strangers
to see the way we stand and move
the Talking Cure without one word
being said.
52.
Selvanus must have been one of our gods
Lord Esus in the woodlot with a
hatchet
or we had no gods we had persons
to study the habits of and to revere
because reverence is all
and these holy images of women and of
men
make us revere the ones who walk with
us
ourselves as much as anybody
if gods are anywhere they must be in
you
and you, there are no places we are
not
when people are asleep the world goes
home
I woke the sun up this morning go to
bed with her tonight.
Nov 15, 2014 | Uncategorized
49.
Once it begins it knows how to go on
true translation treats the syllable
as gold intact
apple-mother guide me through your
hedges
you know where the house is you left
it there for me
a spot of rain upon the lettuce leaf
trying to begin again without taking
life
take form instead and stand like
Ely’s lantern
eight brave oak trees bear it up
a thousand years the tallest men in
England
still stand the mist her little raft
comes through
carrying her sick friend home from
poetry
where she will hand-heal every inch
of him.
50.
My father’s cigars is how it begins
Dutch Masters or White Owl Connecticut
leaf
no non-tobacco ingredients no paper filler
but I am all paper the flesh become
word
no wonder stopped going to church
we never had Sunday school we weren’t
real Americans
no town meetings no whitewall tires
Catholics were just Jews with no
money
America is still over there across
the bay across the river
America’s where the sun goes down
makes me sad to see this dying glory
Amenti across the Nile commonwealth
of the dead.
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