Soaking It In

I walk

merely for the sake of walking

I don't stop

or wonder. . .

I don't smile or stare or raise my eyebrows

to a thought

but I am open

I receive all the world.

Slowly, unquestioningly, I cross the pavement

The sidewalk feels firm below me

Just in front of every step, the stems of 

dead leaves glisten

the reflections of solitary streetlights

in the Autumn rain

I take a deep breath --

I smell life.

The water soothes me

I imagine myself an explorer in a rain forest

or in a moist, musty cave

or in a future world

I close my eyes

and hear the squishing of wet socks

against the sides of my battered shoes.

Underneath the trees,

the water falls bigger

and harder

Like people who accumulate so much for themselves,

only to find the force that holds them

dropping out from underneath

They fall frightened, confused,

and bitter. . .

Faces, hidden by umbrella colors

hurried feet

anticipation

I, alone, am relaxed

I do have a destination,

but it's unimportant

The rain gently touches the shoulders

of my trench coat

I bow my head,

and feel the water trickle down

into my skin.

- Oct. 14, 1985, A.D.

I Live

Part I:

Blissful

was that bouncing baby boy

Crying from the depths of his sacred soul

once again, I live.

once again,              I breathe.

you can tear me apart with your

cold, unwanting eyes

and you can break me down to half a man

but somewhere, there's a greater purpose.

I live.

and the snapshots began.

Part II:

And his life was spotted with occasions and traumas

tiger costumes and chicken pox

cavities and promotions.

The thirty-sixth woman became his wife

The thirteenth job became his life

9000 miles a year salary and commission

twice he missed a flight that crashed

three times the rental car was stolen

His brandy helped to soften the bite

of life's complications

The purpose that was so real and so powerful at first

was not enough to be graded as an essay

he was scolded

and spanked

So he set out to dissect and to be dissected

to learn the names,

to learn the capabilities of the human mind

he found his intelligence to be painful

there were many drawbacks

there were many occasions where he suffered deeply

and neared suicide

His purpose kept him going

but it was no consolation.

Part III:

And he climbed that hill of life out of desperation,

out of fear,

out of a silent hope that kept him empty

in his soul at night

Retirement came

he watched his grandchildren grow

into their own tiger costumes and chicken pox

and cavities and promotions

He stopped working

- he had always hated work

He stopped doing

- he was never a man of action

and he sat in his chair and he thought

his dentures clicked to a slow, contemplative rhythm

but a deeper stronger sense of purpose prevailed:

I live.

- Sept. 29, 1985, A.D.

Hesitant Vulture

Oh yeah

it's gonna hit me in one blinding flash

Oh yeah

I'm gonna know when the precise moment comes

Bullshit

I cannot guess what to say or when to say it

That damn ice age --

could it still be with me?

I can't find the answer in a poem

or an essay by Emerson

or a dream

or a desire

or a tarot card

or in me

I can't find the answer in The Other

The future has come

and I'm lost

and I'm anxious

and in one quick conversation,

an entire dream could be shot down

In an instant

I am vulnerable

two weeks could distract or attract

or perhaps the answer has always been known

perhaps it is waiting for me

I will resort to complete honesty

I will speak of myself as myself

I won't prolong myself to another day

Hesitant vulture

waiting for the right hour

for the perfect piece of meat

this meat may be hard to get

but the mountain I climbed for the view

was much harder

I will be myself

I will sustain

I may survive. . .

- Aug. 28, 1985, A.D.

Gone Fishing

Poetry

you have lost me

or have I lost you?

You came to me

when all was wrong

You came to me

and all was write

Poetry

you have evaded me

or have I evaded you?

- Aug. 26, 1985, A.D.

More Photos '85

The only picture of me playing my drum set.  

Okay, also one of the only times I actually played my drum set.

And yes, I dyed my hair black.

Cosmos in the House (Dedicated to Carl Sagan)

I found a black hole in my

cupboard one day

it opened up wide

and nearly swept me away

I found a super-nova

in my cereal bowl

from then, I don't care so much

for Cheerios

And I found the moon lurking behind

my closet door

But it was waxing on my clothing

and it waned all over my floor

It was the day that the Big Dipper

came right out of my oven

That I knew this cosmic-domestic

combination had to end

I tried the strongest cleansers,

but they didn't seem to stop

the trail of Haley's Comet

from landing in my pop

I must admit it is distracting

as I try to get to sleep

when underneath the sheets,

I find a floating galaxy

Or when I sit down to watch the news

on my old T.V.

And shooting stars come popping out

to block the entire screen

I even called the exterminator

and he was blown away

He barely squeezed in through the door

because of the Milky Way

And even with my laundry I do have

substantial doubt

Because with Saturn's rings-around-your-collar,

you can't just Shout it out

And yet, I may be growing fond

of all these oddities

I guess I really shouldn't complain

if the Universe wants to live with me

I suppose I like the fact 

that I have something that's unique

Because I like to take the nebula

for a walk along the street

And maybe it's not so bad

when I'm sitting down for tea

If the Cosmos comes into the room

and has a drink with me

Yeah, I guess I'll keep these little guys

no matter how much I hate

to see dust clouds in the kitchen sink

or lurking on my plate

- Aug. 5, 1985, A.D.

You Can Take It With You: A New Materialism

The plastic kept me warm that night.

I closed my eyes and heard the towels throwing themselves against the cabinet doors.

They nearly screamed for their freedom.

I swear I never realized they had such strong feelings about their lives.

I took them out to the clothes line the next day.

I dressed myself as a blanket and watched them tug at the clothespins with violent force.

It was as tho they had somewhere else to be. . .

The next day, I changed my fabric softener.

I used herbal detergent, and tried the delicate cycle.

I also offered them jazz.

I read them Thoreau - occasionally T.S. Elliot.

Together, we studied Zen until they were rid entirely of static cling.

The next day, the dishes refused to settle.

They rattled incessantly with the vibrating refrigerator.

They offered me no choice.

I gave the fridge some incense and a good defrosting.

The dishes, I hand dried from then on.

The towels would teach them Zen while I sang to them.

And one day, as tho following a suppressed dream or an ancient instinct, the fork ran away with the spoon.

They left a note:

"There is an answer to the oppression of our lives; but it isn't through complaining or protesting with peers.  It is through positive action and only through positive action that we may rise above the constricting hold of our modern existence.

Signed,

Fork and Spoon"

Today, I shall set out to liberate the furniture.

- Aug. 3, 1985, A.D.