Prairie Boy

On The Trail

Copyright 1997

A. Neil Meili

CONTENTS

GIFTS / 1

HEADS / 2

LEA / 3

EDEN / 4

LINKS / 5

THE SWORD IN THE STONE / 6

TURNING POINT / 7

ON THE WIRE / 8

GOODNIGHT MARILYN / 9

FASTER / 10

SANTA BARBARA ’89 / 11

PROJECTION / 12

THE WORDS / 13

THE ZOO / 14

CANDLE LAKE / 15

EARTHWORM DANCE / 16

SEPTEMBER 1986

THE PIETA / 18

GRACE / 21

CIRCLES / 22

SEEDS / 23

EAGLES / 24

EAGLE ON THE MOON / 25

CATCHING UP / 26

OH TO NERUDA / 27

GARBO PASSES / 28

THE JESTER / 29

MOLTING / 30

Erik Blomberg / 31

RESTLESS / 32

SACRIFICE / 33

LUCK / 34

OUT OF THE NEST / 35

THE PANTHER / 36

PICTURE TAKING / 38

BUTTERFLY / 38

DRAGONS / 39

TOMORROW / 40

GIFTS

There is a settling rising

There is a richness and a heaviness

in the words and gifts

There is the gold polished by the sand

heavy in the sluices

Pulling my hands upwards against it’s

weight

HEADS

They put a growing cabbage

in a steel case

It kept trying to grow

Building up a pressure of

thousands of pounds per square inch

I don’t think I have to say more

That’s what a metaphor’s for

LEA

When you walked West from your home

down the main street to the

heart of the town

a car driving in from the country

could slip up silently behind you

A quick blast of the horn

and your knees

would collapse and you’d

drop like a stone

Good sport in a small town

If you were walking down that street

today

and I was driving behind

I would be sorely tempted to do it again

but this time

I would want to catch you

EDEN

Where Adam learned

that you cannot name

without limiting the namer

and the named

Where Eve learned

the after taste of knowledge

And God learned

that you cannot expel

anyone from the garden

and remain there yourself

LINKS

Sometimes I’m strong enough

to fight the other man and win

Sometimes I’m strong enough

to keep all my feelings in

Sometimes I’m strong enough

that I don’t get to play

Sometimes I’m strong enough

to push your love away

Sometimes, yes sometimes, I think

I’m only as weak as my strongest link

THE SWORD IN THE STONE

The legend does not tell

It might have been something much softer

turned to stone by the sword’s plunging

Nor does it tell how long it rested

rusted there

We are only told that life and story start with

its removal

We do not even know in the great dislodging

what parts there were of strength

grace and permission

Nor do we know if sword removed

it bleeds through rusty wound

and beats again

The legend does not tell

TURNING POINT

I said it’s good to see you back

How’s your search for all

knowing going

She said, I had it down pat

if meditation is where it’s at

with breathing below perception

and everything nearing perfection

Then one day on a Kiwi beach

deep in the oneness a loud voice said

“You can do that when you’re dead”

ON THE WIRE

When you are dancing on the wire

not looking down, is the net.

GOODNIGHT MARILYN

or

(dyin ain’t easy but it’s a livin)

All heros will be expected to die young

to keep their fans from growing old

and will be well rewarded

in unspendable gold

If it’s sex you give then sex it pays

so take along the two young Ks

Though a frozen instant Porshe crash

could be worth a lot of cash

And the Colonel smiles as money piles

for haunting supermarket aisles

But for biggest gross and longest run

it’s still the cross at thirty one

PROJECTION

She had reels upon reels in her mind

and a bright light further back in her head

and in a little theatre on a screen that is me

she played films of her father who’s dead

And the flickering light made it real

and we soon forgot it was a movie again

as we both got caught by the action

and those magnets of fear and pain

But sometimes I heard an outside sound

and started to remember and look around

And I tried to get her to stop the movie

and awake to the pain of this dreaming

or more often in the dark I just panicked

and ran from the theatre screaming

THE WORDS

(played to the beat of a big sad drum)

The words/ and a touch/

would have meant/

so much/

But it’s gone/ and it’s gone/

and you know/ its gone/

Yet sometimes,/ in the night/

it still throbs/

Like a phantom/ limb

THE ZOO

Foxes in boxes

never grow clever

And a boa constricted

is a future predicted

Children

must stay on the path

or they won’t get a treat

and the panther stalks dead meat

CANDLE LAKE

Northern Dawn

Soft Haiku Sky

Seven Loons Float By

EARTHWORM DANCE

Think about earthworms dancing

in the earth

like dolphins in the sea

Pretend you can see through the earth

speed them up a little in your mind

watch the grace of their movements

Play your favorite music

watch them dance

And while they dance they eat the dark

and leave lightness behind

SEPTEMBER 1986

I’d love to share my southern friends

the northern lights tonight

as they shimmer and they flow

in a dance of pure delight

A thousand miles of motion

at a hundred miles a minute

with every color of the rainbow

shading in and out within it

A rainbow just above my head

but a rainbow now set free

where greens, and blues, and pinks

can each take a solo spree

Then melt into the whole again

and softly fading fly

to white light and to rest

against a moonlit sky

While I in love’s sweet afterglow

wish all my loves this love could know

THE PIETA

Michelangelo

polished the Pieta, polished the Pieta,

polished the Pieta

Tired past all tired,

polished the Pieta, polished the Pieta,

polished the Pieta

Polishing her breast

he fell into a sleep, fell into a sleep in the

arms of the Pieta

When the polishing was done Michelangelo

stood back

The Mother was alive, the Mother had an

Aura and the Mother was alive

And yet the Son, the Son lay dead, the Son

lay dead there in her arms

In the mind of Michelangelo a thought began

to grow

Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy

yet I know

I must take the red black blood, I must take

the red black bood

From his side of cold white marble

I must take the blood within me, I must take

the blood within me, I must take the blood of

death, I must take the blood of death to the

center of myself

Unworthy, unworthy, yet unworthy

in my prayer

I must change the blood that’s there

In the mind of Michelangelo, in the mind of

Michelangelo, in the midst of Michelangelo

the red black blood was changed to light

unworthy, unworthy, unworthy

Michelangelo

the red black blood was changed to light

Then the mind of Michelangelo

saw the light return to marble through the

marble hold in side

Saw the Aura of the Mother,

saw the energy of Mary

Saw the energy of Mary through her arms

into her Son

Saw the Christ no more of death, saw the

Christ to be reborn

When Michelangelo lay dying

When Michelangelo lay dying and his

friends were gathered round

They saw him tired past all tired on a cot

within his home

When Michelangelo lay dying

When Michelangelo lay dying, he saw the

statue and the stone

Saw the polishing was done

And fell back into a sleep

In the arms of the Mother, in the arms

of the Mother

Of the Mother of the Son.

GRACE

All is grace that falls upon us

The opening lotus

holds more

of the holy water

CIRCLES

Primitive peoples see life in circles

but we’ve tired to straighten them out

taught them how to get ahead

and what life’s really all about

For we know the ways of progress

and we’re moving along just fine

But did we forget to our own regret

that there’s nothing inside a line

SEEDS

or

(Austin International Poetry Festival)

Birds seed lakes

flying with fish roe

between each muddy toe

Spiking

every pond with pike

and smaller fish that pike like

The poets from England were here last year

including Jay, and bearded imp John Row

carrying seeds between each muddy toe

EAGLES

I watched them glide and wondered

do the eagles see the air

I know of course that I can

When there’s enough moisture there

But I was thinking about something

extra

Like how a dog can hear high notes

And I can feel you from anywhere

When there’s enough moisture there

EAGLE ON THE MOON

When the Eagle lands on the moon

the Indian will come back

into his power

When the mother is in pain

the children who never forgot

will remind

They will have the medicine

to heal her wounds

They will sit with her while

strength returns

And the children who forgot

will remember

and bring flowers

CATCHING UP

Deep silences, deep forests,

and deep friends

help me to stop and to see

That while I sometimes pursue my bliss

it is always pursuing me

OH TO NERUDA

Oh Pablo you rise up

from a land, long as a woman’s back

And you have loved your land

as you would love a woman

as you have loved women as you loved

your land

Every rock an shoal of their coastlines

every mood of their tides

You have caressed them

with your mind and your heart

and your hands

And have received the treasures

that must

always rise up

from their endless depths

to meet such a touch

GARBO PASSES

She didn’t really want to be alone

she just didn’t want to be

with most of the people who wanted

to be with her

She

just didn’t have

anything more to give

to those who only wanted to take

She didn’t really want to be alone

The last thing she really wanted was

to be alone

THE JESTER

(for Thom The World Poet)

Only the jester dares

to tell the truth to the king

to hold the blade as a mirror

and thrust to the heart of the thing

And yet he has learned to retreat

as fast as a smile might fade

sit with his back to the stone

and polish the blade

MOLTING

A

snake

is most

vulnerable

when it molts

and it molts when it grows

“That one might be translated into light and

song”

(Erik Blomberg)

And yet the fear, the fear

always the fear that we

may lose something

in the translation

RESTLESS

I’ve followed a hundred paths

each one leading me deeper

and though I’m not yet awake

at least I’m a restless sleeper

SACRIFICE

The Kubla Khan’s from minds

broken loose by

and all too soon broken by drugs.

The alcohol that so many have found as

the key to their heaven and their hell.

And all the wounds of daily battles with

truth wrestled to a fall

Make me wonder if writers

like mothers

and forests

sometimes lay down their bodies

that their children

may grow.

LUCK

There are days

when rabbits run

to rub their feet on me

And days

when the word goes out

among black cats

that it would not be wise

to cross my path

OUT OF THE NEST

(for Carolyn going away to college)

You have the soul of a bird

It’s so joyful light and fair

and now it’s flying to a world

that the frightened people share

And I pray you safe

when they see you there

Drawing water from mirages

For the flowers

round your castles in the air

THE PANTHER

The panther is full of light,

But it can only be seen

when he moves, or looks into your eyes

Or by those who can see in the dark

If it were not so, the blind

could see …. and kill him

PICTURE TAKING

The simple people of the earth

do not like to have their pictures taken

They say it captures them

and takes away their souls

If you’ve been with those you love

who still can see you only as you were

And for their own good reasons

need to keep you there

While your every urge of

every breath says grow

Then you’ll know

what the simple people know

BUTTERFLY

I had this urge to turn

and touch my lips to yours

ever so ever so lightly

My softness to your sweetness

like a butterfly’s

first taste

of

cotton candy

DRAGONS

Beyond the maps of the ancient world

“There, be dragons”

Beyond the ways of parents and

of peers

“There, be dragons”

Beyond the days of preachers and

of teachers

“There, be dragons”

Beyond where you know or

have dared to go

“There, be dragons”

A toe tip, a step, and a stride

Heart, arm, and sword

steeled by the fiery breath

How sweet the dragon’s meat,

and the maiden’s

Another mark on another map

“Here, be dead dragons”

TOMORROW

Somewhere

perhaps very near

The fairies are dancing tonight

If you put out a little food

they will mend your shoes

and tomorrow you can join them

Back cover quote:

A poet

looks at the world

As a man

looks at a woman

Wallace Stevens

I love

the way you look

Sheila Wright