Fast Day 286 Nov 24 2012 {Seeds in the Wind}

Seeds in the Wind

the fly-away days, the fly-away nights;
when the wind is blowing,
tumbling and rolling;
squandering old-witch grass,
throwing seeds far and wide;
some find way to grow
as they have for a million years,
far, far older and more ancient
than the math of markets -
markets free or otherwise -
miracle logic:  loaves and fishes!

when Jesus played and Peter laughed
with  the water and the wine -
our fates first entwined -
and all float upon the wind
heedless, squandrous seed heads,
wafting, riding
on roller-coaster Creation,
until stopped by some obstacle,
and we pull back and ponder
germination and genesis;
suddenly students of quick and dead.

--
notes

Life can suddenly become serious, and we face birth and mortality at Thanksgiving time.

Fast Day 285 November 17 2012 {Where's That Jazz?}

Fats Waller

Where's That Jazz?


what is the jazz of the written word?
the poetry
the confabulation
the corrugated language roller-coaster
in the areas of my brain
where is the jazz?

where is the tongue of jazz?
the taste
the silver spit
of my pavlovian laboratory dog desire
in the areas of my mouth.
where is that jazz?

where's the genius of jazz
of the genital?
the intemperate,
the ancient yet modern lingua franca
of the orient seaports...
where's that savvy horn?

where's the fermentation of desire...
the wine of jazz?
the intoxicating
drink of that undiscovered seashore
with messages in bottles...
where's that jazz?

Fast Day 284 November 10 2012 {Cheers for November 6}

Cheers for November 6

Ya don' know what yer doin'
ya don' know what yer missin'
yer standing in hall
while Mama's in the kitchen;
she is fixin' eggs,
she is fixin' ham,
she is fixin' toast
with honey and with jam;
fer once in yer life
shut up and lissen:
close the front door,
slide across the floor;
don't ya go out
wildin' anymore!

Ya don't love Pedro,
ya don't love his kin;
yer drinkin' rum 'n' coke
when yer Daddy rushes in;
he gives you a look,
he gives you a blast;
ya know he is pissed
and he will whup yer ass!
the head bitch in charge
you ain't never been!
you're in a slump,
ya look like a chump;
don't ya feel that
yer life is snap trump!

Yer Aunt is in the bathtub,
yer aunt is in the hall,
yer aunt is gettin' dressed
and she's goin' to the Mall;
she don't have no hairpiece,
she doesn't have a weave,
and she's cool LaVern
we don't disbelieve;
she don't go by taxi-
she think it's too banal;
don't go by train,
don't sail by sea,
she be the Lady
invented prophecy!


----------
notes

snap trump  -   big and mean after effect of a "trump", which as yet is an undefined after-product of nastiness.

LaVern  - beautiful lady.

DC   -  a DC plane, an airplane made by Douglas Aircraft, such as DC-10

This deals with the election and with my experiences with people over the past 4 years. It is meant to imply and hint and feel spirited and happy, like cheerleaders leading the crowd at a football game.

I suppose I could explicate this a little more.
First, it could be a cheer for a high school game, and just leave it like that.
Second, we could see it as:
(1) the "Mama" in the first stanza is Life... or Mother Earth... or Gaia... or the Blessed Mother... or any nurturing (fixin' eggs, etc.) thing.Mess with her at your own peril;
(2) stanza two is introduced by a Latino and someone disrespects him and his kin. Mr. Obama's juggernaut comes in and those who thought they could disrespect must look at their own misery;
(3) I see the Aunt as Mrs. Obama, mainly because she is naturally beautiful without artifice ("hairpiece"). I was forced to endure friends who sang the praises of the miniscule Nancy Reagan while making fun of the more athletic Mrs. Obama;
We mix in prophecy and polls because.... well, why not? It ain't an essay! "LaVern" refers to LaVern Baker with whom I fell in love in 1956.

Poetry is like that: everything blends into everything else.
We do not write poetry like we do an essay: essays go on to the end of the page, then go down a line. Poetry tries to engage the emotions and body as well as the understanding, so we have to separate things to embody the feeling, the rhyme, the tempo, the beat, the meaning, and even things like voice modulations and body movements; certainly this poem recited as basketball game cheers should have movements.

Fast Day 283 November 3 2012 {Ode to Hermes/Mercury}

Hermes

Ode to Hermes/Mercury

Once, deuce,
repeat and three-peat;
Hermes high I.Q.,
Mercury quick-good
at tough ciphering:
counter, toller, dancer
to the rhythm of the maths
of the celestial spheres!
Gossiper and snitch of holy
secrets and home-boy
to us all!

Small I, frail -
no great understanding:
more a hunger and thirst,
feeling a tumescence
for smarts and wisdom
at the posterns of reason
of my SATs.
Give me the word,
the thunderbird
of brainiac faust!
gimme!

--
My ode to Hermes/Mercury, three times great (three-peat), for cool and easy wits and understanding... to be smart without a sweat.