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Sunday, June 30, 2013

Fast Day 316 June 29 2013 Death Skypes At Dusk

Death Skypes At Dusk

I met a young Halo game expert
he said, "My mother died last year, my mother died..."
We were fighting in the Halo amusement park,
lobbing video grenades into buses.

The sorrow and the void -
electronic arts mayhem
fighting, man, in an amusement park ?!

I said my father died this January,
and he wasted away into head and bones
my mother and I cared for...
but instead I felt an emptiness now
transit the entire universe...

like everything's a Theme Park where
everything that interacts is fraudulent,
and the simulated floors drop away,
and I got lovers weapon in my hand.

death skypes at dusk and noon:
we fight and text our brothers;
run through the amusement park of urns
where rest fathers and our mothers.

video games and sadness, and just a sense of Burke's Sublime.

The amusement park is featured in a cool violent video game.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Fast Day 315 June 23 2013 Sailboats


Neuropteran wings, wings of water,
sensible, discerning waves that break;
the lake’s great heart vessel extends
the entire length of the river’s back.

I watch the majestic panjandrum progress
of spinnakers filled by the southern wind
slowly move upstream; how wonderful to see!
Better yet be on the crew and feel
the governance of capstan and sail.
Better than an argonaut, the boat itself to be:
ligaments all whirlygig
goose-wing, scudding, fleet,
all straining to be free.

While watching a sailboat on the St Clair River early 6/24

neuropteran  -  having nerves in the wings


Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Fast Day 315 June 16 2013 Fathers' Day Morning

The Old Swigwam - St Pete Beach

Fathers' Day Morning

the garden was suborned by night
and filled with drowsy poppies sleeping,
all calmative with opiate dew,
crystalline in the morning sun,
like a Waterford web of drawn glass thread,
spun by the rackham fingertips of
deeply indigo spiderwort blue.

a bearded guy with protruding gut
walks back and forth on the beach,
his hand an amber beer bottle:
shaman drum, prayer wheel, rosary…
when I cut the weeds, he sees me,  and
I do not speak; when he mutters at me,
I shrug and say: tansi  etweyan?


opiate dew - an expression of Charlotte Smith  (1749-1806)

rackham - thin and elongated like finger in the sketches of Arthur Rackham

spiderwort - a type of flower my grandma grew... look at a picture of it.

tansi etweyan? - what are you saying?  I am not very sociable with people who carry beer bottles as their totems...

I just got this up. We were at the Island for Fathers' Day, and then at my mother's, and there are no internet hookups anywhere. I suppose I could have asked the neighbors...

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Fast Day 314 June 9 2013 I Am Running Home

I Am Running Home

In the tailings of the day,
I will not stop, I will not stay;
I am running home.
Full-joy will our meetings be,
when our hearts are free.

I shake the dust from my shoes,
and make haste when I’ve heard the news;
I am running home.
Way be quick, the way be sure,
when our hearts are pure.

On the shores of Beulah Land,
reborn I jog upon the strand;.
I am running home.
Well-shod are my tired feet,
and my stride is fleet.

Once gaunt, I swell now as a sail
prolific, I cannot fail;
I am running home.
Triathlete,  I run and swim
in my haste to Him.


A hymn for runners

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Fast Day 313 June 1 2013 Journeys

Taquamenon, Michigan


We must find our own tribe when we grow up;
we must find our own way and go on quests,
talk to the Great Spirit in our own tongue,
see our animal totems in the sky.

There is no word for homeless in our tongue;
our poetry is language of cherries,
strawberries in the childhood of the year;
grown in eight-sided naked wikiup.

We shall lose the one-time pet wolves of war,
who stirred up our bones from the hot middens;
instead we paint great medicine with sand
in the pattern of friendly divergence.

We were born in war, hands tied behind our backs
with the ropes of blighting, withering dogma;
we were among the packs of earth creatures
that were herding to the Great Extinction.

Taquamenon is boondocks to cultured
Wall Street, but every drop of falling water
is canonized ecology haunting to
our daedal palimpsest nostalgia!


eight-sided naked wikiup - an uncovered wikiup, which has the manitou of deliverance from death, as in the film Melancholia.

daedal palimpsets nostalgia:
daedal - intricately made
palimpsest  - rewritten (over)
nostalgia - painful yearning for home.........

Combine with "haunting to our..." and we have " a great urgent desire to return to our original homes which are hard to recognize because they have been written over so many times, and which we shall overwrite and transform."

Wall Street Ecology