fat belly bella’s hand

“i have a hoe /and i take it everywhere i go/ cause i’m plantin’ seeds so i reaps what i sow, ya know,/ ya know” – ‘apple tree’

a night of joy and wonder with umami folklore and erykah badu

fat belly bella’s hand

she called our conversation therapy
and how she and we needed it.
she talked of her healing work
of counting steps, deep breathes.
you cannot put a price on that
sweet balm soul salve cure all.
she heard my softly spoken “thank you”
as she passed out into the night.
in recognition we locked eyes
and she reached out to touch
love and healing in her hand.

austin, tx: 22may2011

It begins: Totenklage (after Ginsberg)

“daddy’s gone across the ocean/ leaving just a memory/ a snapshot in the family album./ daddy, what else did you leave for me?/ daddy, whatcha leave behind for me?/ all in all it was just a brick in the wall./ all in all it was just the bricks in the wall.” – ‘another brick in the wall, pt. 1′

Totenklage (after Ginsberg)

Strange now to write of you, gone without cameras & fists, while
I sit in the spring breeze in sight of the capitol dome.
Dún Alit – burn hill, a promitory fort on the northwest edge of Ireland
I walked in sight of sheep dung on pain of death, to stand
among stones set there over two thousand years before
my aging walkman belted out Janis Joplin’s class war blues to
the rhythm of the waves  -  an obligation made remains undone
a decade gone on  -  working through Ginsburg’s Kaddish
to weave your life into his fabric of loss and grieving
as Death dances, Time beats a tattoo through our dreams
the singer and the song for our stories. At the beginning
and end of all things, a witness to the transformataion of
matter moving from state to state  -  one light winks out
another life is lit.

…to be continued

spiritual caverns

“and there are drums beyond the mountain indian drums that you can’t hear/there are
drums beyond the mountain and they’re getting mighty near/ and when they think that they’d changed me cut my hair to meet their needs/ will they think i’m white or indian quarter blood or just half breed” – ‘drums’

spiritual caverns

i awake to the sounds of drums,
they remind me of our primitive past.
the silver of the lady luna’s face
provides me subtle illumination-
guiding me to the ancient council rounds.

i delve into caves of granite,
looking for sparks of life-light-
wondering about previous lives,
reaching the bottom of a soul
i look up to the light of life.

the boulder strewn playland,
beckons me on in my quest.
the drafts of cool, refreshing air,
they tell of portals in time,
their dead-ends are like the pain.

turning about from stagnation,
the path of starlight calls.
many more depths to be explored,
all of which bring illumination-
expanding knowledge of the self.

enchanted rock, tx: august 1987

assange says saudia arabia is running low on oil

“you say you want a revolution, well ya know, we all wanna change the world.” – ‘revolution’

assange says saudia arabia is running low on oil

this vast network
of ways and means
by which we run
is strung from there to here
in great black ribbons of tar
bubbling in the blistering heat
of summer suns
and cracking
under the strain of ice and rain
and the burden it bears

shiny metal and plastic
glass and wire cages encase us
our food, our wares
our wherewithal to survive
the day to day to
tomorrows
and it needs fuel
these beasts, these roads
their way
it hungers continually
for the oil that stains
the center of the lane
the gulf seabed

hurtling down
one of these windy viaducts
of nonstop commerce
these postmodern warhorses
cluster along the racing course
when the hand of aeolus plucks
from an unsecured carriage
and spills debris
in the path
of those who follow behind
like so many caltrops

they swerve to avoid
the six foot box
as it bounces off
and under their wheels
instead of halting in stride
one pivots to the left
to miss the mass
rolling over the torn top
it speeds on and out
of the maelstrom past
the unburdened
and those caught
in his unfolding misfortune

austin, tx: 09 february 2011

losing my opium

“I got family, a friend in need, hand to throw the gasoline” – ‘hussel’

losing my opium:
or as m.i.a said, i hate money ‘coz it makes me numb

seeking after the impossible
and striving for the unobtainable,
in an effort to appease the infinite
at the absolute limit
of our knowledge and
comprehension, while
losing sight of the essential
beauty in the minuscule,
the ubiquitous,
and becoming numb to the awe-
full wonder of the quotidian.

austin, tx: 23january2011

the river’s course

i was happy, i was invincible, i was with the people i loved and we were on another adventure/ and then the veneer cracked and i saw the worst of them all/ now that’s what you call a comedown – ‘daughters of darkness’

the river’s course

why does love always run this course
this river trapped in a worn landscape
its bends and twists resisting shifts
playing out the same waveworn turns
desire sparks our interaction
racing towards connection
consummation ever undone by eddied
currents that pull us from the flow
to struggle spun form the source
which so recently raced us surely
along the way to strive beyond
the initial hunger and hope
pulling us apart and asunder
to wrestle with predispositions
and misconceptions about that
which so recently we embraced
and lit our eyes like sunlight
or starshine in the firmament
but even those far off fires
have long since found other fields
to light and alight with their lifeblood
the river flows on and the course
remains unchanged except in the sight
of time and tides washed and wrung
from before we were till after
we are through and done

austin, tx: 11june2010

come to the mountain

somethin’ always fires the light/ that gets in your eyes – ‘marathon’

come to the mountain – join us in the dance
a vilanelle in honor of jodi jinks’ agave in the rude mech’s dionysus in 69

her voice whispered down from the mountain top – hussshhh
an invitation to play, to co-create
come join in this dance, the first step will be trust

unleash the body before it becomes dust
feel the blood rising, it is never too late
her voice whispered down from the mountain top – hussshhh

speak sweetly your thoughts, sing to slough off the rust
embrace the idea to let the fear abate
come join in this dance, the first step will be trust

waves pound in the ears, a sound of white hot lust
these entwined bodies work their hunger to sate
her voice whispered down from the mountain top – hussshhh

a first fiery look, what does the spark tell us
of bodies driven to find a spirit’s mate
come join in this dance, the first step will be trust

desperate to unite, like wine grapes they are crushed
as this love ferments, these hearts are made elate
her voice whispered down from the mountain top – hussshhh
come join in this dance, the first step will be trust

austin, tx: 14february2010