Absolute Whole

Absolute Whole

          Absolute Whole Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  Illusion and Enlightenment are one. Illusion and Enlightenment are two. Both dream and firefly fluttering each shun Full grasp, but floating,...

Absolute Whole

             Absolute Whole Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  Illusion and Enlightenment are one. Illusion and Enlightenment are two. Both dream and firefly fluttering each shun Full grasp, but floating...

Jesus Smashes Saul to Blindness with Vision

Jesus Smashes Saul to Blindness with Vision Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem  “the only pure mystics are brutes” ~ George Santayana One mystic that I know who lives with me Is Prospero.  He...

Gautama and Māra

         Gautama and Māra Iniquity is starlight in the wrong Location or the purest atom gone Awry, a darkroom with a delving song Of light inside it, thinking in its dawn. The sin is not the light itself.  Its height Is not the evil, black the background not Its...

Modesty’s Refinement from a Winter’s Afternoon

      Modesty’s Refinement    from a Winter’s Afternoon   The curtains in the bedroom at the front Were Margaret’s last and accidental gift To me.  Before their hanging day, death’s stunt Destroyed her.  She was sucked right through that rift...

 A Light that Never Was from Angels Bright and Dark

 A Light that Never Was from Angels Bright and Dark Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem A light that never was on sea and land Is seen by those who search for wonder.  Mere Auroras and a dawn without...

Absent Orange and Blue

       Absent Orange and Blue   Modern poetry  modern verse contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem “ ‘Why did the whole Greek world exult over the combat scenes in the Iliad?’ asks Friedrich Nietzsche. We modern readers do not even...

Esthetic Ricochet

                  Esthetic Ricochet A room with gilded sliding screens is flown Through by a swallow.  It swoops in and out So swiftly that the moment makes a throne Of thrill and beauty.  It is like a shout From Christ or Buddha, utter and so brief That brevity...

Human Nature

                  Human Nature Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem The sun does not begin to rise because Of songbirds singing.  Manly brains know this. The dawn begins to break because of laws Of...

Japanese Epiphanies

      Japanese Epiphanies Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Sardines have sunlight shining their eyes And, from the scales along their sides, the light Is light as from divinity.  Each dries Here hanging...

144,000 Thrones

            144,000 Thrones Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem My childhood little church, that concrete block One painted white with ziggurat-like face, Was filled with mystic preacher salesman talk So...

The Known Unknown

     The Known Unknown   Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Izuko yori Tsubute  uchikomu Natsu kodachi The summer grove; my Mind is struck by a small stone That came from somewhere. ~ Buson The green of...

Who Can Know?

               Who Can Know? Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem It seems that God (or gods) goes moving through The dawn invaded by exhaustion in The night.  The hormone tentacles construe The twilight...

At Least among the Redwoods

       At Least among the Redwoods “Man is somehow out of place in ‘the brotherhood of venerable trees’[1] Yet they are meaningless without at least his absence.” ~ R. H. Blyth, Haiku, Autumn – Summer, volume 3, p. 842 Wallpaperup.com Among the brotherhood...

Lyrical Light and Annihilation

Lyrical Light and Annihilation The harp is not of heaven alone.  Its strings Have been to Hades on the saddest trip. A  gilded harp may seem to have the wings Of Hermes.  It may ride an Argo ship Which has one eye to see its way to fleece And gold, to beauty’s...

Lost Legends Long Before the Vedas and the Iliad

Lost Legends Long Before the Vedas and the Iliad Go far enough in time and all becomes Strict mists and stone.  Fire circles heard the tales So long forgotten now that tribal drums Are recent evolutions, compared.  Trails Do not exist to take us back to spells And...

The Harvest of a Quiet Eye

  The Harvest of a Quiet Eye   “The harvest of a quiet eye”  ~ John Richard Vernon Ignore the razzmatazz, and sex, and stuff. Just look around you in the dawn and see A crack in God’s eternity, enough To show the mystical, mystery In twilight.  Take an old, old book...

The Poetic Kind of True

     The Poetic Kind of True Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem “The stories begin in kinds of truth.  As events recede in time, they grow not smaller but larger in language.  The ancestor who fought...

Some Myths are Far More Real

Some Myths are Far More Real “Orpheus is a hero, not a god, and a hero more valuable than most gods, just as Prometheus was.” ~ Michael Schmidt, The First Poets, 21 The gods are less than Orpheus of Thrace. Gods loomed up large but they were never real. Majestic for a...

Poetry Makes a Different Exploration of the Realm of Death

Poetry Makes a Different Exploration of the Realm of Death No poet thinks about the path the wife Of Orpheus took down to Hades.  Not One poet ever writes about how harshly rife That journey was.  The poisoned bride’s death lot Was just the same as anyone’s.  The path...

Orpheus Died Several Times and Could not Save Himself

Orpheus Died Several Times and Could not Save Himself Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem Intent is feeble like a hyacinth In rocks along a mountain path where feet Can crush.  Intent is not a marble...

Siddhartha

                Siddhartha “and things stable by unceasing mutations” ~ Thomas Taylor, 1792 The glacier is ever changing, still And not still, frozen, flowing, fixed and not, Yes, like Jehovah’s unperplexing will, And whitened like a purpose not forgot. Crevasses...

Primitive Sophisticated Truth

  Primitive Sophisticated Truth Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem   ….…… When Greeks believed that nature’s aspects moved As gods and goddesses, as wind and fire, Then Bóreas came...

Icarus: When Cleanest Beauty Flies

Icarus: When Cleanest Beauty Flies https://dd28.deviantart.com/art/Mourning-for-Icarus-294532709 When young men make mistakes, they still get all The glory. Here he is with nothing wrong About his body. It’s as if the fall Has killed him theoretically. This strong One...

The Greatest Mysteries of All

The Greatest Mysteries of All I’ve never understood why people eat (Taste, chew, and swallow) Oreos.  They’re vile. And here are other mysteries, complete Ones.  Why do men drink beer?  What can beguile A person to submit to drinking stuff As foul as that?  It smells...

When Gods were Real 

     When Gods were Real  We used to meet divinity inside Our guts. Gods wrenched the bowels, or heart, or lungs With flushing presence, left our sternum dyed With holiness, and filled with praise numbed tongues. Direct, they haunted us in fire and smoke We breathed...

Moses, Saint Francis, Saint Teresa

Moses, Saint Francis, Saint Teresa  ….. Gods used to come. We felt a sudden gust. A moment came, somewhere, somehow, at dawn Or in the twilight. Daybreak caused a thrust Of deepest recognition, then withdrawn. A twilight apparition might remain A fraction longer...

Gravity: the Greeks and the Old Testament

Gravity:  the Greeks and the Old Testament How Hitler-like and heavy is the past, How wonderful and marble-like its weight Upon our brains and guts.  The Greeks loom vast; … The Hebrews, too.  Their fires in myth frustrate. We can’t escape to newness.  We are...

Broadmindedness Touching Electric Fences

Broadmindedness Touching Electric Fences He thought himself a mystic, though I don’t Believe he knew strict meanings for that word. He had these fuzzy notions:  he was wont To stretch and blend.  His holiness was blurred. B’hai was far too cut and dried for him, I’m...

The Mystery of Iniquity

    “The Mystery of Iniquity” This tale looms large, that Lucifer conceived His God was like himself, a sort of twin, An elder one, a massive tree that leaved And fruited long before the swell of sin Began to bud inside the angel’s brain, An aching more...

For the Eternity Being

          For the Eternity Being One morning when they’d stayed up all night long While moving house, he stepped outside with one Last box of stuff, including hymn and song Books–and Dillard’s Pilgrim.  Dawn, just begun, Radiated through clear...

Translucent Demigods

Translucent Demigods The heroes of the past are god-like strong. Their loins are near pellucid in their power And beauty.  Irridescent thighs are long In loveliness of maleness as they tower Above their plinths.  These calves and biceps glow With inner force as marble...

Sand Grains: Blake’s Universe

Sand Grains:  Blake’s Universe [Grains of sand under a light microscope] https://www.nikonsmallworld.com/galleries/2011-photomicrography-competition/sand I walk along a tropic beach of sand And feel the sun’s heat in the grains,  wonder If, counting my...

Why Fuck with Myths and Legends?

Why fuck with myths and legends?  Why not let Them be?  Why try to modernize the Flood Or Cain’s red fratricide, Pandora’s threat? The likelihood is that we’ll get more mud Than blood, attenuated menace, and Some other watered down effects.  Clark...

Poets Are the Legislators of the Scientific World

In 2011 I was reading a biography of John Keats.  In the introduction Lord Byron is quoted as saying that Keats “belonged to that second-hand school of poetry” because he got his inspiration from poetry and art, not from life.  Be that as it may (and Byron...