GO THERE!

%22A View in Piagentina (Una veduta in Piagentina) 1863

We live so long – hopefully long enough

To know life is enough

All we should want

The rest is fearing
The opinions of others

We are old enough to resist
The urge

Know there is great pleasure in GO!
It is not the There
But the trip

The memories will come years later (if at all)
With its uneven ruler
To defend life’s
Crooked calculus

CALIFORNIA HIGHWAY – NORTH: A Bed Sheet Sign on an Overpass

Slide1

Through what strange porthole do we

    Drag our outsized dreams

    All the while cursing its size

    And not the size of our schemes

What is right and what is wrong

    Unruled by the heart

    Vaguely menacing headlines

    Parading news as art

There is order in the forests

    Though no king or queen abides

    We fear dark hard silence

    And the mute in life’s asides

Outside margins there exists

    The right for us to grow

    To a fullness that disturbs the gist

    The city’s turbid ebb and flow

 Pare not your life to other’s whim

    Live the largeness of your dream

     Ignore the porthole its jagged rim

     That rips and disesteems

For me, I shall look for clues

    Sometimes a lost endeavor

    To a freeway sign – not a ruse

    “The worst ancestors ever.”

WHAT DOES NOT DISTURB

CROP OakAlley Plantat Louisiana

We make out of the quarrel with others rhetoric but the quarrel with ourselves – poetry     ~      Yeats

 

The hungry brat-god

    Squatting over a world

   Pushes his toy soldiers off to war

    After his milk and cookies

What would happen if

    The woman in his life

    Told the truth?

There are no Kings

    No Queens

    No rulers in the forest

    No language

    No plan

    No god

    Just nature

And its vaguely menacing

    March of days

    Blooming seasons in line

    With our attraction to ruin

 

Eugene Feldman: 1921 – 2014

Dad at dinner closeMy father-in-law

 Lucidity – blinking and broken

Has declared his life a night

A forgotten dimension

So fast

Where did it go?

92 years inside

The forest of human travel

Following the script

Of human hand

The hand that sent him to war

To love

To fatherhood

To the hearts of those

Who would wash his sluggish body

Wrinkled, tissue depleted

Immobilized by an angry destiny

And landscapes of untold design

And still he wondered why?

As the answer awaited at the forest’s rim

Where the path – well- trodden

Called – he is moving there now

Beyond that forest

To the open sky-filled field

Where the flowers will wildly bloom

In the spring of his step

Steps – light and inoffensive – like him

A child in this fractal world

Enfolding unto himself

Even as Nature reclaims him

Her son

Guiding him on that path

Swaddled in linen

Looking ahead in painless

Expectation