MOLTING
A
snake
is most
vulnerable
when it molts
and it molts when it grows
Monthly Archives: March 1997
THE JESTER
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
GARBO PASSES
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
OH TO NERUDA
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 and 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
CATCHING UP
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
EAGLE ON THE MOON
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
SEEDS
SEEDS
(or Austin International Poetry Festival)
Birds seed lakes
flying with fish roe
between each muddy toe
Spiking
each 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
CIRCLES
CIRCLES
Primitive peoples see life in circles
but we’ve tried 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
GRACE
GRACE
All is grace that falls upon us
The opening lotus
holds more
of the holy water
THE PIETA
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 blood
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 hole 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 into a sleep
In the arms of the Mother, in the arms
of the Mother
Of the Mother of the Son.