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Wednesday, September 29, 2010


I noticed a new face at the table, Stevany, so welcome, sit down, and be at home. It's good to see you. This morning I feel as young as you are.

If I were Orpheus,
humming "Only the Lonely",
walking the nighttime perimeter of the city -
only now and then descending from the tracks
to enter and walk
the cobbled streets
searching for Eurydice among the tangled web
of electric-line-hammocks spinning above;
where street meets sidewalk,
and brick wall the sky........

 I picked up on this on the other blog as " Orpheus Descending ".
My wife says it is a good thing that I amuse myself, being my own best audience, and so on.
Our friends in Cleveland said they read my blog..... couldn't say they got it, though.
Which was OK. Everybody is different.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Fast Day 174 September 29 2010 {On MY Brother's Suicide}

On My Brother's Suicide

Autumn approaches like a maddened hag,
shaking her bony branches like a sing-song curse
against the sky, against the faithless fallen leaves.
She comes loud and keening,
a banshee with a necklace of curcurbits,
dressed in widow's weeds for the mourning of the trees
and the eve of all hallows and the dia de los muertos.
She bids me return north
to the lake to visit the memory of family beasts
and pray at the tolling of loose screen doors that
fan remains of the gunpowder residue dawn,
...and my brother's life.
His vertebrae are asbestos covered bones,
his hepatitis blood laced with PBB,
he offers brandy, cigarettes, beer:
kongo for a tongue-less god.
Quicklike, my brother's life that could-have-been sits,
drinking a bottle filled with smoking herbs - he smiles,
at me with misty legba that has more life than life!
seeking the heroin of Ezili,
and the love that fights for life until the death.

This promises to be a powerful autumn, and the season itself impels me to speak of it. I saw something odd on September 23... at the river... and we'll see what comes of it. My brother is not well and does nothing but drink now. I saw his life as it could have been, and it had more warm aura than most people... it was more real than being with people one cares little about. He/It was sitting in the chair by me, about 4 feet away.
Ezili has been mentioned, Ezili Danto - the mother who fights for us.
Legba is a metaphor for male beings.

gun-powder residue dawn - left-overs from suicide (sorry - a heavy downer)
kongo - a kongo packet, or paket kongo.

La vieille porte automne qui nous dirige a la maison de Baron Samedi.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Fast Day 173 September 22 2010 {On Her Graduation}

On Her Graduation

Sweet accents mixed with sparkling words;
foods and fruits brought upon cool waters,
the wind's lethargy amid the willow wands
whispers softly and caresses leaves.

Her desires are ten leagues long,
her tongue is fair and bright;
shine forth swift-footed child of maiden dawn-
the journey's inception at first light.

Make us forget our sorrows!
And friends when we do speak...
like gods of olde within your bowers
in the precinct of Olympus' peak!


I have been trying to approximate classic Chinese poetic constructions at times:
"And friends when we do speak" can be read "we are friends when we speak" or "friends, when we speak..."

I am deliberately leaving logical connexions a  bit vague, forcing the reader to do a bit more. It is unclear at times, as if the words were Chinese characters and the interpretation could be various.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Fast Day 172 September 15 2010 {Autumn Leaves}

 Autumn Leaves

My love is like a tree, he said.
Ah, wrinkled bark, she said,
somnolent, morose,
dropping leaves...
unhappy parallel!

No, he said; like this tree here!
Many branches, pointing
to all the stars!

Deep roots, covering the meadows!
Bird-friend tree!
The migrating wing'd gossips
return like clouds
from southern climes!

Fallen leaf ? - a message sent
in the haze and smoke
of autumn:

When All Saints approaches,
scarlet, orange,
rust, pumpkins and Thanksgiving;
trees still stitch
heaven and earth together!


early - I have no time next week. I wrote it for a birthday this week.
If I can get my other computers working, I shall have a picture.

Sunday, September 5, 2010


I welcome a new friend, Eric. He came on board at our last stop,
and he seems well suited to the life of a sailor upon the deep, blue
Hexameter Sea.
I am reading Moby Dick and feel ancient and nautical, yet still
bright coin and Quito gold. Welcome.

Fast Day 171 September 4 2010 (The Waters of Shiloh}

The Waters of Shiloh

Lord, we shall go now, O Lord, we shall go!
to be baptized in the pool of Shiloh!
Mother and father, we gather to them
in our new home in Jerusalem;
where crops do not wither and banks do not fail!
and no one to weep at the sheriff's sale!

Lord, we shall go now, O Lord, we shall go!
to wash our eyes in the pool of Shiloh!
Father worked daily for Mom, house, and me,
and in his age he no longer can see.
His eyes be revived to see your sacred face,
when he arrives at your holy place!

Lord, we shall go now, O Lord, we shall go!
to rest our limbs in the pool of Shiloh!
Her arms which held me, her hands dry my tears,
her enfolding strength to drive away fears!
Now let Mother rest here from all of her chores,
and Your sweet grace her vigor restore!



mostly writ on the road to D.C.
like Fanny Crosby....
I have been reading a good deal about John Brown and his times, and I begin to take on the characteristics of the age and time of my focus. I should have been an actor.

stanza three
I used three different constructs of the verb to indicate sort of an eternal sense:  "held" - past, "dry" - present, and "to drive" - infinitive. I don't know if this seems ok and works; just tried it out.