Blind Pilgrim (Bound to Be)

…but from here; boxed baggage bin,
whatever vessel burning
Point on into blank, frigid forths.
Andever vexed in yearning.

Blind Pilgrims; taxed temporal thing
Kinshipbourne, trapped as my fathers.
Captive on this course, bound to be,
Forlorn, for treks on farther.




from years ago, for my Daddy

Breathing Exercises

She won’t roll away & not watch me.
Y’see, I won’t seem to take,
When I dream (or wake).
to take another breath before
The scene fades, before
lights go up
then down to more of a zoom.
She waits in our bedroom for me to resume.

II.
We went to go to a yoga class.
Where a barefooted, hairpleated group leader;
beautiful, and calmer than a
merciful last coma,
She insisted that our deep breath is
the gist of all of it (within, & out).
We rearrange the short & tall of it.
The Gist to change the depth, see,
of our sea of possibillity.
When we inhale
we rememorize our own gods.

We exhale our hell. barefoot. on a mat.
Whew. To that.

III.
When I get to go to the Gulf of Mexico
I’ll try out the drink, 1st thing.
I’ll try not to think when I try to let go
& sink when I deadman’s float all day,
into what I think of as a spiritual drift, in a way.
I’ll hold onto my breath,
face down,
head down.



from a sweeping turntable, 40 years ago, in the dark
“Breathe Deep
The gathering gloom
Watchlights fade from every room..”

I'll Believe I'll Believe Here

They say that at sea
Mal de mer
Is easier to bear
If you can lift your gaze,
Look, and lock in the horizon—
The distant constant transcedent end.

I’m a man who says “land,too.”

Simpleton III "Focussing" (From gobbledeegook to good)

_FOCUSSING_


simply put
I know that nothing
nearly is so true that nothing
clearly is so true.

a candle can pull
the eyes
to one.

a full moon can pull
the soul
to one.

Simpleton II

P A D
fresh flowers in a front room work.
first look inside, coming home
from work.
sets the tone, sits you down
for real work.
near a bright lamp, anda beer,
anda white blank empty, near,
pad.
where a sharp pen pokes it open
& the joke’s on
words unspoken.

simpleton

I
I try to keep it simple.
The company I keep tho’
can only sleep real deep
with all night teevee.

I, tho’, like it only as loud
as an autumn cloud
bottoming out
so that it might brush &
flow though out mountain trees.


It’s been so long
since I’ve been leaning on the brakes
and all the blue smoke & smell
are well gone.

There’s fog.
Then, there’s people landing planes at all hours.
There’s dogs chasing birds
on runways. And one way those people in those towers
can plan to, and see to, land planes is
the guts to go with the guages.
They heartfelt dealt with data,
Trusted all they’d seen
on their farforeign & onlyman made monitor screen.
As dogs flushed their fog,
hands hover over lights
and cover their old bets,
their usual action.