Water
Colorless, odorless, tasteless, pure
My life flows down like water
My eyes are filled with color
Swatches of pigment and shimmering dye
Spectra absorbed and reflected
Careening throughout the luminous world
But my life flows down like water
My nose is filled with smell
Of sandalwood idols and freshly washed sheets
Aromas perceived and remembered
Bringing me back to my childhood days
But my life flows down like water
My mouth is filled with taste
Breathtaking heat and searing sweet
Syrupy peaches
And stiff whipped cream
But my life flows down like water
One man may be a droplet
Humanity a raging stream
Hope and possibility a shack
Built on delta silt
All of life becomes part of the river
Flowing into the sea
But my life flows down like water.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Hey Dad (2008)
Hey Dad
5:45 on a Monday morn
The cab is waiting outside.
I've got my roller bag and my laptop case
And a fat book to read while I ride.
Once at the airport I glide to my gate
On frequent flyer miles.
I keep my receipts and fill out timesheets
And remember how it's worth my while.
What's today?
It's Monday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
What's today?
It's Tuesday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
Hey Dad
Sit on the couch next to me.
We'll hold hands
And watch tv.
It's my favorite show
It's your favorite too.
And when it's done
We can read Winnie the Pooh.
Law and Order with a room service tray
Sitting on the queen size bed.
Write email, sweat the detail
Fix the items colored in red.
Continental breakfast and coffee to go
Head out to the rental car
Check my tie, polish my shoes
Another day in the life of a star.
What's today?
It's Wednesday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
What's today?
It's Thursday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
Take me to the park.
Come play with trains.
We'll take a juice box
And some Teddy Grahams.
We'll slide down the pole
Run to the tree
Dig giant holes
And buy an ice cream.
Jefferson and Lincoln
And Robert E. Lee
On the parkway tonight.
Still tapping on my Blackberry
Monday I’ll come set it right.
The house is dark, fumble with my keys
Leftovers waiting for me.
Take off my shoes and walk upstairs
Kiss their heads while they sleep.
Hey Dad
Sit on the couch next to me.
We'll hold hands
And watch tv.
It's my favorite show
It's your favorite too.
And when it's done
We can go to the zoo.
Woo Hoo.
5:45 on a Monday morn
The cab is waiting outside.
I've got my roller bag and my laptop case
And a fat book to read while I ride.
Once at the airport I glide to my gate
On frequent flyer miles.
I keep my receipts and fill out timesheets
And remember how it's worth my while.
What's today?
It's Monday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
What's today?
It's Tuesday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
Hey Dad
Sit on the couch next to me.
We'll hold hands
And watch tv.
It's my favorite show
It's your favorite too.
And when it's done
We can read Winnie the Pooh.
Law and Order with a room service tray
Sitting on the queen size bed.
Write email, sweat the detail
Fix the items colored in red.
Continental breakfast and coffee to go
Head out to the rental car
Check my tie, polish my shoes
Another day in the life of a star.
What's today?
It's Wednesday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
What's today?
It's Thursday.
What day are you coming home?
Friday night.
Ok, bye-bye.
Take me to the park.
Come play with trains.
We'll take a juice box
And some Teddy Grahams.
We'll slide down the pole
Run to the tree
Dig giant holes
And buy an ice cream.
Jefferson and Lincoln
And Robert E. Lee
On the parkway tonight.
Still tapping on my Blackberry
Monday I’ll come set it right.
The house is dark, fumble with my keys
Leftovers waiting for me.
Take off my shoes and walk upstairs
Kiss their heads while they sleep.
Hey Dad
Sit on the couch next to me.
We'll hold hands
And watch tv.
It's my favorite show
It's your favorite too.
And when it's done
We can go to the zoo.
Woo Hoo.
The Knowledge of Engines and Cars (2009)
Flying down the Skyline Drive in an April burst of Spring
Bare tree limbs like dark paint drips on a bright blue canvas sky.
Mountain ranges arrange themselves like waves rolling off the sea
In the valley below they marched to and fro in the War Between the States
Cardinal, Titmouse, Black Capped Chickadee
Come to the feeder, taking a seed
Through the window each eating alone
Find for myself what I will never be.
I was running late to visit my uncle who rarely went far from home
Looked so much like my father could be twins if you didn't know
The cancer cells which laid him down were there, still unobserved
"I'm tired, I can't do much, it comes with being old"
Cardinal, Titmouse, Black Capped Chickadee
Come to the feeder, taking a seed
Through the window each eating alone
Find for myself what I will never be.
Shared schools and holidays, shared the same small room
But I never knew what was in his head and one day he was gone
For a year he didn't return and he never really did explain
What had happened or where he had been
He must have gone to the movies stopped in Bihar
Slept in the mountains in a blanket of stars
Tore his thread off by the side of the road
He returned with the knowledge of engines and cars
Bare tree limbs like dark paint drips on a bright blue canvas sky.
Mountain ranges arrange themselves like waves rolling off the sea
In the valley below they marched to and fro in the War Between the States
Cardinal, Titmouse, Black Capped Chickadee
Come to the feeder, taking a seed
Through the window each eating alone
Find for myself what I will never be.
I was running late to visit my uncle who rarely went far from home
Looked so much like my father could be twins if you didn't know
The cancer cells which laid him down were there, still unobserved
"I'm tired, I can't do much, it comes with being old"
Cardinal, Titmouse, Black Capped Chickadee
Come to the feeder, taking a seed
Through the window each eating alone
Find for myself what I will never be.
Shared schools and holidays, shared the same small room
But I never knew what was in his head and one day he was gone
For a year he didn't return and he never really did explain
What had happened or where he had been
He must have gone to the movies stopped in Bihar
Slept in the mountains in a blanket of stars
Tore his thread off by the side of the road
He returned with the knowledge of engines and cars
Sandy (2007)
Sandy
After hours in the waiting room they sent us home
A prescription and a bedpad and a number to phone
Early in the morning took the kids off to school
Called in sick to work, told them I caught a flu.
I rocked and I rocked in the rocking chair
A dead cold dread wrapped tight to my heart
Not even thinking about what might have been
Just rocking, and rocking, and rocking again.
Sandy with the saddest liquid eyes
I saw you through the bottom of a bottle
Spinning faster than all the others
You are always watching me watching me
You said, I can't stand it, you lurking around
Looking hurt, I hurt, it doesn't help me
When you lurk, just go, take your phone
Right now I need to be alone
So I fished the tiny bits from the toilet bowl
Put them in a cup and walked out the door
Went down to the lab, where I filled out a tab
With our names and the date, what it was for
Sandy with the saddest liquid eyes
I saw you through the bottom of a bottle
Spinning faster than all the others
You are always watching me watching me
After hours in the waiting room they sent us home
A prescription and a bedpad and a number to phone
Early in the morning took the kids off to school
Called in sick to work, told them I caught a flu.
I rocked and I rocked in the rocking chair
A dead cold dread wrapped tight to my heart
Not even thinking about what might have been
Just rocking, and rocking, and rocking again.
Sandy with the saddest liquid eyes
I saw you through the bottom of a bottle
Spinning faster than all the others
You are always watching me watching me
You said, I can't stand it, you lurking around
Looking hurt, I hurt, it doesn't help me
When you lurk, just go, take your phone
Right now I need to be alone
So I fished the tiny bits from the toilet bowl
Put them in a cup and walked out the door
Went down to the lab, where I filled out a tab
With our names and the date, what it was for
Sandy with the saddest liquid eyes
I saw you through the bottom of a bottle
Spinning faster than all the others
You are always watching me watching me
Candyland (2005)
Butt-crack of dawn
The dog comes along
Four Runner guns
Headlights turn on
And then we're gone
Path through the trees
Then rocks and the beach
Waves roll in
Below
A secant of sun.
Just me and my board
The wind's from the north
And my troubles are left behind on the shore.
Back in Candyland.
Beds are all made
The toys are displayed
Refrigerator is stocked
The back door is locked
And I'm on my way
Drive 95
Down Old Route 1
Day's just begun
But I've been working
Towards this for months.
Just me and my boys
We'll make plenty of noise
And we'll pick up right back
Where we had to leave off before
Back in Candyland.
Hearing’s not until noon
An hour to spare
Try to prepare
For the questions and glares
It will be over soon.
Don't start a fight
We both know what's right
And if there's any anger let it flow
Over you just like a wave
Washington Square
Been here before
When making nothing out of something
Was the way that I filled up my days.
Back in Candyland..
“Hey Johnny D.
What’s going on?
Still riding your board?
Ain’t seen you around”
He wipes his nose on his sleeve.
“I moved out up north.
Close to the beach.
A mile away I’ve got a
Four foot break
All to myself.”
“Sweet
I’ve got a board you should see.
It’s a classic
You know you ought to buy it from me.”
Back in Candyland.
“D.,
You got some to share?
What about cash?
Front me a grand.
The board’s super sweet.”
“Just a C.
Split a bag you and me
I’ll take you uptown to this guy.
He’s got the best..”
And as I pull out some cash
To pay off the past
The arbitrator stares at me
On his way.
Back to Candyland.
And as I sit
I wonder how this could be
That I lost control of my fate.
My hopes and my dreams
All out of my hands.
Of course, it goes bad.
Of course, I get mad.
And the best I can get’s
Another hearing
In six months time.
Alone on my deck
In a clammy grey fog
Far away waves
Want a fix so bad.
Through the sliding glass doors
Where the toys are displayed
There is a thin box of hope
Marked
Candyland.
The dog comes along
Four Runner guns
Headlights turn on
And then we're gone
Path through the trees
Then rocks and the beach
Waves roll in
Below
A secant of sun.
Just me and my board
The wind's from the north
And my troubles are left behind on the shore.
Back in Candyland.
Beds are all made
The toys are displayed
Refrigerator is stocked
The back door is locked
And I'm on my way
Drive 95
Down Old Route 1
Day's just begun
But I've been working
Towards this for months.
Just me and my boys
We'll make plenty of noise
And we'll pick up right back
Where we had to leave off before
Back in Candyland.
Hearing’s not until noon
An hour to spare
Try to prepare
For the questions and glares
It will be over soon.
Don't start a fight
We both know what's right
And if there's any anger let it flow
Over you just like a wave
Washington Square
Been here before
When making nothing out of something
Was the way that I filled up my days.
Back in Candyland..
“Hey Johnny D.
What’s going on?
Still riding your board?
Ain’t seen you around”
He wipes his nose on his sleeve.
“I moved out up north.
Close to the beach.
A mile away I’ve got a
Four foot break
All to myself.”
“Sweet
I’ve got a board you should see.
It’s a classic
You know you ought to buy it from me.”
Back in Candyland.
“D.,
You got some to share?
What about cash?
Front me a grand.
The board’s super sweet.”
“Just a C.
Split a bag you and me
I’ll take you uptown to this guy.
He’s got the best..”
And as I pull out some cash
To pay off the past
The arbitrator stares at me
On his way.
Back to Candyland.
And as I sit
I wonder how this could be
That I lost control of my fate.
My hopes and my dreams
All out of my hands.
Of course, it goes bad.
Of course, I get mad.
And the best I can get’s
Another hearing
In six months time.
Alone on my deck
In a clammy grey fog
Far away waves
Want a fix so bad.
Through the sliding glass doors
Where the toys are displayed
There is a thin box of hope
Marked
Candyland.
Apres Fini (2004)
I forgot how hot Florida gets
Sweat beads beneath my New York suit.
Shuttle bus to rental cars
Ragtop emerges from the back of the yard.
Saw-grass gives way to cypress swamp
Throw away the map; this is where I was born.
In a cinderblock shack; tin roof too hot for a cat
And when I left here I said I’d never be back.
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
Knock at the screen door, inside the Braves score
The kids come to receive their gifts.
A Barbie, a Game Boy, a soft plastic chew toy
I give her cheek an airbrush kiss.
The boyfriend appears, muttering about queers
Diane sends him for diapers and cigs.
“Di you look great”
“I still have to lose weight.
It’s great to have you back again.
Mom know you’re here?”
“I told her I’d come.
She didn’t believe me
But she’ll see she was wrong.”
“I’ve done my best John
But now I’m done.
I can’t keep going back there
I’m not that strong.”
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
The mailbox is filled with sweepstakes and bills.
The yard is covered in weeds.
Linen is soiled, the milk is long spoiled
The pantry is stocked with pill bottles and Scotch.
She refuses to come, says she has no son;
Just some faggot who should leave her alone,
Who left her alone with that bitch of a girl.
“Diane will come; I can go live with her.”
“Mom, you can’t stay with Di, and you can’t stay here.
Come to New York, and stay with me.
The tickets are booked; your room’s been arranged.
Come back to New York, and stay with me.”
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
She tries pushing buttons, tries playing her cards
Tries making me angry, tries going too far.
“Mom, pack up your stuff, and save your voice.
You know, and I know, you have no choice.”
But at the end of the day, back at the hotel
I call home to talk to someone nice.
Cheers me up, wishes me luck
It’s gonna take a little more time.
In the morning I breakfast and draw a deep breath
Drive out to the house, knock on the door
She doesn’t answer, so I find the old key
Open the door, call out “Mom, it’s me”.
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
She’s lying in bed, her face has gone grey
Eyes are open, but no pulse, no breath.
I know that it’s over, holding her hand
Crying for someone I can’t understand.
From Ballaghderreen she made her way
To a land where streets are paved with gold.
In this land she grew unhappy and old
And now she’s gone to Tir Na Nog.
Over the western sea
To Tir Na Nog
The western sea
To Tir Na Nog
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
Sweat beads beneath my New York suit.
Shuttle bus to rental cars
Ragtop emerges from the back of the yard.
Saw-grass gives way to cypress swamp
Throw away the map; this is where I was born.
In a cinderblock shack; tin roof too hot for a cat
And when I left here I said I’d never be back.
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
Knock at the screen door, inside the Braves score
The kids come to receive their gifts.
A Barbie, a Game Boy, a soft plastic chew toy
I give her cheek an airbrush kiss.
The boyfriend appears, muttering about queers
Diane sends him for diapers and cigs.
“Di you look great”
“I still have to lose weight.
It’s great to have you back again.
Mom know you’re here?”
“I told her I’d come.
She didn’t believe me
But she’ll see she was wrong.”
“I’ve done my best John
But now I’m done.
I can’t keep going back there
I’m not that strong.”
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
The mailbox is filled with sweepstakes and bills.
The yard is covered in weeds.
Linen is soiled, the milk is long spoiled
The pantry is stocked with pill bottles and Scotch.
She refuses to come, says she has no son;
Just some faggot who should leave her alone,
Who left her alone with that bitch of a girl.
“Diane will come; I can go live with her.”
“Mom, you can’t stay with Di, and you can’t stay here.
Come to New York, and stay with me.
The tickets are booked; your room’s been arranged.
Come back to New York, and stay with me.”
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
She tries pushing buttons, tries playing her cards
Tries making me angry, tries going too far.
“Mom, pack up your stuff, and save your voice.
You know, and I know, you have no choice.”
But at the end of the day, back at the hotel
I call home to talk to someone nice.
Cheers me up, wishes me luck
It’s gonna take a little more time.
In the morning I breakfast and draw a deep breath
Drive out to the house, knock on the door
She doesn’t answer, so I find the old key
Open the door, call out “Mom, it’s me”.
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
She’s lying in bed, her face has gone grey
Eyes are open, but no pulse, no breath.
I know that it’s over, holding her hand
Crying for someone I can’t understand.
From Ballaghderreen she made her way
To a land where streets are paved with gold.
In this land she grew unhappy and old
And now she’s gone to Tir Na Nog.
Over the western sea
To Tir Na Nog
The western sea
To Tir Na Nog
We will be young, so beautiful and free
Après fini.
Flight To Madrid (2004)
Flight To Madrid
The sun
Scatters through the blinds
Covers twist
Into a tie that binds
The breakfast nook,
Where she cries and smokes
Looking past
Curtains and plants.
D. you know
I hate it when you go.
Staring out
Over the street below.
Why don’t you come
Lie in the sun
Of Ibiza?
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again
In the cab
The street scenes going by
Downtown address
He tips the cab a five
Flash his badge
The receptionist she smiles
And he walks
Back into the cubes
Version five
Are we going to ship?
I don’t know
I think it’s going to slip.
By the fall?
He looks up at the timeline
On the wall.
D., it’s not going well.
Let me know
How it goes
And be sure
You bring version four.
Cause it’s good
Only if it works
And I don’t need
To be hammered any more.
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again.
Niccolo,
Bambino mio
Questo fai?
I’m doing fine.
Dove vai?
Prendo un café.
Veni, veni
I need to talk to you.
So Niccolo,
Have you seen Levi?
He has dropped out,
I don’t know where he moved
You, you thrive,
I see it in your eyes
But for Vai,
The atmopshere, this air…
Mr. D.
You know it’s not the air
I know I know
Speed and crystal meth
I may be blind,
But I still can see
He should leave,
Come lie in the sun
Of Ibiza.
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again
Dance is a beat
Of ecstasy
Rock is a sound
Of needs unmet.
Pop: melody
And unity.
Jazz: harmony
And regret.
So when
Emotions cannot fit
Put them away
For another day.
With each song
Check the baggage
You carry along
Maybe this one is it.
Si senor?
I fly out to Madrid.
And then on?
On to Ibiza.
You check?
Si, the baggage
It comes with me
To the sun
Of Ibiza.
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again.
The sun
Scatters through the blinds
Covers twist
Into a tie that binds
The breakfast nook,
Where she cries and smokes
Looking past
Curtains and plants.
D. you know
I hate it when you go.
Staring out
Over the street below.
Why don’t you come
Lie in the sun
Of Ibiza?
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again
In the cab
The street scenes going by
Downtown address
He tips the cab a five
Flash his badge
The receptionist she smiles
And he walks
Back into the cubes
Version five
Are we going to ship?
I don’t know
I think it’s going to slip.
By the fall?
He looks up at the timeline
On the wall.
D., it’s not going well.
Let me know
How it goes
And be sure
You bring version four.
Cause it’s good
Only if it works
And I don’t need
To be hammered any more.
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again.
Niccolo,
Bambino mio
Questo fai?
I’m doing fine.
Dove vai?
Prendo un café.
Veni, veni
I need to talk to you.
So Niccolo,
Have you seen Levi?
He has dropped out,
I don’t know where he moved
You, you thrive,
I see it in your eyes
But for Vai,
The atmopshere, this air…
Mr. D.
You know it’s not the air
I know I know
Speed and crystal meth
I may be blind,
But I still can see
He should leave,
Come lie in the sun
Of Ibiza.
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again
Dance is a beat
Of ecstasy
Rock is a sound
Of needs unmet.
Pop: melody
And unity.
Jazz: harmony
And regret.
So when
Emotions cannot fit
Put them away
For another day.
With each song
Check the baggage
You carry along
Maybe this one is it.
Si senor?
I fly out to Madrid.
And then on?
On to Ibiza.
You check?
Si, the baggage
It comes with me
To the sun
Of Ibiza.
And we live
Between the taxi and the plane
And we love
A love which has no name
And we cry
Teardrops in the rain
Till we find
The thread of life again.
Angarai (2002)
Angarai
Eighty feet isn't as high as it used to be
But with proper tires, and patience
You can roll all the way to the beach.
When you get there,
Avoid the Piping Plovers
Or the ghosts of hairy nudists,
Whichever it should be
And look out to sea.
You should see
In front of the back
Of the Block Island bluffs
Ocean going canoes.
The outline of a lookout
Cresting over the weak willed waves
Looking for a landing
Scanning the primordial landscape
And deciding
That this place is good.
Looking into the appraiser's eyes
I see only numbers:
Square footage, recent comparable sales,
Possible commission, tax rates.
Not a young couple,
Young as I remember them young,
Hopefully hanging a sign,
A sign which only hardy wanderers
Or the hopelessly lost
Would ever see,
A sign with would soon be overgrown
By the inexorable creep of nature's abundance
But a sign which meant
This is our home
A sign which said
Angarai.
An echo of a place continents away,
A small village of small mud houses
With low doorways and open breezeways
A village surrounded by rice paddies and railways
A place I don't remember
But a place my father
Scanning the primordial landscape of his mind
Remembered as the name of the place you call home.
Still I remember them as young:
Glenn put a cherry bomb in our mailbox
Peter had a minibike
Ann and I rode bicycles
Kevin punched my lunchbox
Richard died.
Even then I remember them as old:
Ben Vanderlaan was a clean old man
(As Paul McCartney would say, in Hard Days Night)
Toby Kurtzband had hair in his nose.
Later Astrid and Howie
And their baby
Who also died.
Today interlopers, trash, profiteers
No respect for what came before them.
They only know how things are
Not how they used to be.
To them it is their soil
To do with as they see fit.
But to me
They soil
My memories.
The trees are second generation
As I am second generation.
The soil is not so thin.
Against the fleeting plans of men
An eternal spirit works
Reverting the land to its natural state.
Low stone walls
Overgrown by lichen and moss
In the middle of deep woods
Recall that once this was a farm.
Men sought mastery over the land,
Imposed their will through spade and plow.
Ozymandias say:
"Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Angarai
Tamil village, New England woods, American city
Angarai
My grandfather, my father, my self, my son
Angarai
A place, a name, a sign
Angarai
The sacred thread
Knotting disparate lives
Lived over and over
To the end of time.
Eighty feet isn't as high as it used to be
But with proper tires, and patience
You can roll all the way to the beach.
When you get there,
Avoid the Piping Plovers
Or the ghosts of hairy nudists,
Whichever it should be
And look out to sea.
You should see
In front of the back
Of the Block Island bluffs
Ocean going canoes.
The outline of a lookout
Cresting over the weak willed waves
Looking for a landing
Scanning the primordial landscape
And deciding
That this place is good.
Looking into the appraiser's eyes
I see only numbers:
Square footage, recent comparable sales,
Possible commission, tax rates.
Not a young couple,
Young as I remember them young,
Hopefully hanging a sign,
A sign which only hardy wanderers
Or the hopelessly lost
Would ever see,
A sign with would soon be overgrown
By the inexorable creep of nature's abundance
But a sign which meant
This is our home
A sign which said
Angarai.
An echo of a place continents away,
A small village of small mud houses
With low doorways and open breezeways
A village surrounded by rice paddies and railways
A place I don't remember
But a place my father
Scanning the primordial landscape of his mind
Remembered as the name of the place you call home.
Still I remember them as young:
Glenn put a cherry bomb in our mailbox
Peter had a minibike
Ann and I rode bicycles
Kevin punched my lunchbox
Richard died.
Even then I remember them as old:
Ben Vanderlaan was a clean old man
(As Paul McCartney would say, in Hard Days Night)
Toby Kurtzband had hair in his nose.
Later Astrid and Howie
And their baby
Who also died.
Today interlopers, trash, profiteers
No respect for what came before them.
They only know how things are
Not how they used to be.
To them it is their soil
To do with as they see fit.
But to me
They soil
My memories.
The trees are second generation
As I am second generation.
The soil is not so thin.
Against the fleeting plans of men
An eternal spirit works
Reverting the land to its natural state.
Low stone walls
Overgrown by lichen and moss
In the middle of deep woods
Recall that once this was a farm.
Men sought mastery over the land,
Imposed their will through spade and plow.
Ozymandias say:
"Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Angarai
Tamil village, New England woods, American city
Angarai
My grandfather, my father, my self, my son
Angarai
A place, a name, a sign
Angarai
The sacred thread
Knotting disparate lives
Lived over and over
To the end of time.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
The Strings Of Your Genes (3/24)
I try to be calm
In the face of your rage
Your grandmother's face
Your grandfather's rage
Pulls you out of your seat
A dancing marionette
Tied to the strings of your genes.
The stone and the sod
Whiskey and God
Run from the law
Sleep in the straw
It pulls you up to your feet
A dancing marionette
Tied to the strings of your genes.
I curse you to never know satisfaction
To see injustice in all of its forms
I bless you with strength
Quickness of mind, a consuming desire to learn.
I curse you to be unable to follow
To be unable to suffer a fool.
I grant all of this to you
Because I, I carry them too.
I carry them too.
We're dancing marionettes
Tied to the strings of our genes.
Just dancing marionettes
Tied to the strings of our genes.
In the face of your rage
Your grandmother's face
Your grandfather's rage
Pulls you out of your seat
A dancing marionette
Tied to the strings of your genes.
The stone and the sod
Whiskey and God
Run from the law
Sleep in the straw
It pulls you up to your feet
A dancing marionette
Tied to the strings of your genes.
I curse you to never know satisfaction
To see injustice in all of its forms
I bless you with strength
Quickness of mind, a consuming desire to learn.
I curse you to be unable to follow
To be unable to suffer a fool.
I grant all of this to you
Because I, I carry them too.
I carry them too.
We're dancing marionettes
Tied to the strings of our genes.
Just dancing marionettes
Tied to the strings of our genes.
Socks and Shoes (3/1)
The lunches are all made, just the way you like
Apple slices peeled, chocolate milk mixed up just right
Sit down to breakfast, still waking up
Bowls of frosted cereal and sausage with syrup
"I'm gonna take a shower, you guys get dressed"
Put out some clothes that match, hope for the best
"Get on your socks and shoes; coats and hats and gloves"
Fill their backpacks with homework and a Hershey Kiss for love
Drop them at the front of school. watch them run away
Reach across to close the door and drive off to my day
But before I leave I'll box this memory
Where happiness won't fade.
Apple slices peeled, chocolate milk mixed up just right
Sit down to breakfast, still waking up
Bowls of frosted cereal and sausage with syrup
"I'm gonna take a shower, you guys get dressed"
Put out some clothes that match, hope for the best
"Get on your socks and shoes; coats and hats and gloves"
Fill their backpacks with homework and a Hershey Kiss for love
Drop them at the front of school. watch them run away
Reach across to close the door and drive off to my day
But before I leave I'll box this memory
Where happiness won't fade.
Brattahlid (10/19)
A crack echoes down the fjord
As the glacier's iceberg calves
Into the waiting sea
Standing on my stony beach
Hay field rises to the farm
I named it Brattahlid
The skraelings bob
In their skin boats
Awaiting the coming wave
I killed a man in Trondheim
I killed a man in Skells
In fights for ships and love
The blood price paid, exile
Banished to the western lands.
My ship, my love and hope.
A great house I promised her
To steal her to this land
I broke the beams from my boat
To erect it to her plan
Now she lies beneath that cross
And I on my stony beach
Each year the hay grows less
Last cow was gone last spring
I should be off, but this is my home
And besides, where would I go?
The skraelings bob
In their skin boats
Awaiting the coming wave
Which crashes on the jutting rocks
The icy spray comes down like rain
The salt, the wind, sod turned to dust
And blown away by fate
Or the yearning for the lands of my ancestors
The traditions and customs
The time honored practices
That make me who I am.
The skraelings bob
In their skin boats
Awaiting the coming wave
As the glacier's iceberg calves
Into the waiting sea
Standing on my stony beach
Hay field rises to the farm
I named it Brattahlid
The skraelings bob
In their skin boats
Awaiting the coming wave
I killed a man in Trondheim
I killed a man in Skells
In fights for ships and love
The blood price paid, exile
Banished to the western lands.
My ship, my love and hope.
A great house I promised her
To steal her to this land
I broke the beams from my boat
To erect it to her plan
Now she lies beneath that cross
And I on my stony beach
Each year the hay grows less
Last cow was gone last spring
I should be off, but this is my home
And besides, where would I go?
The skraelings bob
In their skin boats
Awaiting the coming wave
Which crashes on the jutting rocks
The icy spray comes down like rain
The salt, the wind, sod turned to dust
And blown away by fate
Or the yearning for the lands of my ancestors
The traditions and customs
The time honored practices
That make me who I am.
The skraelings bob
In their skin boats
Awaiting the coming wave
Vladimir and Estragon at a James Brown Concert (9/29)
Can you take me higher?
Take me higher!
Fred
Fred!
FRED!
Oh, that's good.
Yeah.
I want to get down.
I feel down.
To get down I've got to be in D.
Down D
Dog D
Funky D
Skanky D
Take me to the D!
Maceo!
What about M?
There is no M.
I want to be in M!
There is no M.
We had good times, didn't we?
I don't remember.
You don't remember?
I can't be sure
But I suspect we have always been
Precisely the way we are right now.
Are you sure about M?
Yes, there is no M.
Take me higher!
Fred
Fred!
FRED!
Oh, that's good.
Yeah.
I want to get down.
I feel down.
To get down I've got to be in D.
Down D
Dog D
Funky D
Skanky D
Take me to the D!
Maceo!
What about M?
There is no M.
I want to be in M!
There is no M.
We had good times, didn't we?
I don't remember.
You don't remember?
I can't be sure
But I suspect we have always been
Precisely the way we are right now.
Are you sure about M?
Yes, there is no M.
Three Women (9/21)
You've got your tank top
That summer skirt
Those Chuck Taylors
Love to watch you work
Coke bottle glasses
Hair tucked behind your ear
You're turning heads girl
Mmm, I need you here
So when I get back
To you babe
We're gonna get it on
---
As I rolled over onto my back
She said to me:
"They're fake, you know."
I stared at the ceiling and replied:
"I know, but they are still beautiful."
--
Confronted with evidence
Painstakingly collected over several months
She looked me in the eye and said:
"I have no idea what you are talking about".
And after a pause
"But if that's how you really feel
Perhaps you'd better leave."
That summer skirt
Those Chuck Taylors
Love to watch you work
Coke bottle glasses
Hair tucked behind your ear
You're turning heads girl
Mmm, I need you here
So when I get back
To you babe
We're gonna get it on
---
As I rolled over onto my back
She said to me:
"They're fake, you know."
I stared at the ceiling and replied:
"I know, but they are still beautiful."
--
Confronted with evidence
Painstakingly collected over several months
She looked me in the eye and said:
"I have no idea what you are talking about".
And after a pause
"But if that's how you really feel
Perhaps you'd better leave."
Chaco (9/17)
I did what I could
If it would do any good
Like you should
Now I'm the last to leave
I bricked up all the windows
And I bricked up the doors
Just one more
To do when I go
I buried all the chocolate
And buried all the bones
I'm alone
In the once great Hogan
This morning the sun
Rose at the top of the peak
In 53 days
I'll be the last to leave
In 53 days
I'll be the last to leave
If it would do any good
Like you should
Now I'm the last to leave
I bricked up all the windows
And I bricked up the doors
Just one more
To do when I go
I buried all the chocolate
And buried all the bones
I'm alone
In the once great Hogan
This morning the sun
Rose at the top of the peak
In 53 days
I'll be the last to leave
In 53 days
I'll be the last to leave
Benjy (9/4)
Benjy's hanging on the fence again
That's ok, it's his fence
The lawyer made that perfectly clear
I was a world away, in New York
But we needed someone in the house
To watch Benjy and to take care of things
I needed a place to stay
It seemed like a great suggestion
At the time
I wanted to finish my novel
About the secret inner life of cats
I was making progress in the beginning
But lately I've really gotten bogged down in research
And it's hard to stay focused
When any time you might come home to find
That someone has taken a shit in the middle of the kitchen floor
Again
It's important to remember
That he's my brother
It's important to remember
That he can't always control himself
It's important to remember
That being disabled doesn't mean you can't also be a jerk
At the beginning, I tried to figure out the things that would set him off
Avoid the upsetting stimulus, avoid the crap on the floor
But after a while I realized that those things
Weren't things I had done, or things he had seen
They were happening in another world
Benjy's hanging on the fence again
He's licking the rail, because it tastes so good
Just like that apple he had after lunch
I ask him if he wants another apple
But he's off in another world
I'm sitting on the porch
Drinking a fresh squeezed lemonade
With a soothing Vodka kick
I pick up my book, and read
To return to another world
That's ok, it's his fence
The lawyer made that perfectly clear
I was a world away, in New York
But we needed someone in the house
To watch Benjy and to take care of things
I needed a place to stay
It seemed like a great suggestion
At the time
I wanted to finish my novel
About the secret inner life of cats
I was making progress in the beginning
But lately I've really gotten bogged down in research
And it's hard to stay focused
When any time you might come home to find
That someone has taken a shit in the middle of the kitchen floor
Again
It's important to remember
That he's my brother
It's important to remember
That he can't always control himself
It's important to remember
That being disabled doesn't mean you can't also be a jerk
At the beginning, I tried to figure out the things that would set him off
Avoid the upsetting stimulus, avoid the crap on the floor
But after a while I realized that those things
Weren't things I had done, or things he had seen
They were happening in another world
Benjy's hanging on the fence again
He's licking the rail, because it tastes so good
Just like that apple he had after lunch
I ask him if he wants another apple
But he's off in another world
I'm sitting on the porch
Drinking a fresh squeezed lemonade
With a soothing Vodka kick
I pick up my book, and read
To return to another world
Nadine (8/29)
You can't stop people from talking
Rumors have a life of their own.
But there ain't no smoke without fire
And you're burning up our happy home.
So Nadine, what's it going to be
Are you coming back home to me?
Or if you're going to keep on running around
Could you please be more discreet?
The church ladies cluck at the kids
I do my best but I'm color blind.
Luanne down at the coffee shop
Has been being extra special kind.
So Nadine what's it going to be
Are you coming back home to me?
Or if you're going to keep on running around
Would you please just set me free?
Now you know there's nothing in this world
I wouldn't do for you.
I thought I'd shown you again and again.
But if he's the one you want I won't stand in your way
Maybe we can wind up friends.
So Nadine what's it going to be
Are you coming back home to me?
Or if you're going to keep on running around
Would you please just set me free?
Rumors have a life of their own.
But there ain't no smoke without fire
And you're burning up our happy home.
So Nadine, what's it going to be
Are you coming back home to me?
Or if you're going to keep on running around
Could you please be more discreet?
The church ladies cluck at the kids
I do my best but I'm color blind.
Luanne down at the coffee shop
Has been being extra special kind.
So Nadine what's it going to be
Are you coming back home to me?
Or if you're going to keep on running around
Would you please just set me free?
Now you know there's nothing in this world
I wouldn't do for you.
I thought I'd shown you again and again.
But if he's the one you want I won't stand in your way
Maybe we can wind up friends.
So Nadine what's it going to be
Are you coming back home to me?
Or if you're going to keep on running around
Would you please just set me free?
Millicent (5/21)
We drank Hurricanes
In the middle of the street
Dancing to the Nevilles
And the Mardi Gras beat
Dancing in a sea
Of purple, gold and green
Watching the floats
In old New Orleans.
All the lovely beads
Spread across your chest
Let everyone know
That your tits were the best
Oh Millicent
Your breast are quite
Magnificent
Almost heaven sent
Oh Millicent
Twenty years later you're just somebody's wife
Somebody's mom
A nice suburban life
But every now and then
You get out your bag of beads
Pop in the Nevilles
And roll up some weed
You turn up the lights and you open the shades
And dance like you did on Bourbon Street
And Millicent
Your breasts are still quite magnificent.
In the middle of the street
Dancing to the Nevilles
And the Mardi Gras beat
Dancing in a sea
Of purple, gold and green
Watching the floats
In old New Orleans.
All the lovely beads
Spread across your chest
Let everyone know
That your tits were the best
Oh Millicent
Your breast are quite
Magnificent
Almost heaven sent
Oh Millicent
Twenty years later you're just somebody's wife
Somebody's mom
A nice suburban life
But every now and then
You get out your bag of beads
Pop in the Nevilles
And roll up some weed
You turn up the lights and you open the shades
And dance like you did on Bourbon Street
And Millicent
Your breasts are still quite magnificent.
Marco (4/30)
Born a Roman son of the privileged class
You always felt like a boy from the streets
At the suburban skate parks
And the 7-11
You fell in love with America
The land of reinvention
The land of good intentions
Everyone's that boy from the street
Wide open spaces
Friendly faces
You fell in love with America
At the suburban skate parks
And the 7-11
You fell in love with America
You always felt like a boy from the streets
At the suburban skate parks
And the 7-11
You fell in love with America
The land of reinvention
The land of good intentions
Everyone's that boy from the street
Wide open spaces
Friendly faces
You fell in love with America
At the suburban skate parks
And the 7-11
You fell in love with America
Yonder Moon (4/23)
Her first thought
As she skidded into the intersection
Was the precision logistics of her life
"I don't have time to die
At this stoplight today"
And as time slowed
In anticipation of the impact
Her second thought was
"I really need to chill out while driving"
And then
"I probably should have gotten the brakes checked
When I had the chance"
A verdigris sheen of fresh tree pollen
Coats the entire scene.
I'm your man baby, outside of your window
As the moon, waning
Rises over yonder.
As she skidded into the intersection
Was the precision logistics of her life
"I don't have time to die
At this stoplight today"
And as time slowed
In anticipation of the impact
Her second thought was
"I really need to chill out while driving"
And then
"I probably should have gotten the brakes checked
When I had the chance"
A verdigris sheen of fresh tree pollen
Coats the entire scene.
I'm your man baby, outside of your window
As the moon, waning
Rises over yonder.
Chess (2008)
In 1918 Duchamp left his work on the Large Glass and the art scene, and went to Buenos Aires, Argentina for nine months where he often played chess, and carved from wood the only chess set he himself made, though a local craftsman made the knights. He returned to Paris in 1919, where he lived until he returned to the United States in 1920. By the time he moved to Paris in 1923 he was no longer a practicing artist. Instead he played and studied chess, which he played for the rest of his life to the near exclusion of all other activity.
Duchamp At His Chessboard
When I was young
I thought
(Very enthusiastically)
That music was all a matter of skill.
As I've grown older
And acquired a modicum of skill
I have come to appreciate enthusiasm much more.
Perhaps when I die
I shall be silent and wise.
That is all.
I hope someday before I die
To become silent and wise.
Like Marcel Duchamp at his board.
First: Art is in your fingers, expressed through your brush.
Later: Art is where you find it, expressed through your eye.
Finally: Art is what you are, your life is the why.
I hope someday before I die
To become silent and wise.
Like Marcel Duchamp at his board.
On his deathbed, Voltaire spat in the face
Of the priest sent to administer rites.
"The man is the work, and reason the light
Begone to your dismal abode".
Hiding behind the Platonic reflections
Marks a cowardly and incurious mind.
Get out of the cave, come into the light
Stand like a man, don't kneel like a slave.
What is, is, and what is not
Simply has never been.
Love one another, do your part
Try to leave the world a better place
Than it was
Whenever you came.
Before I die I'd be silent and wise
Like Marcel Duchamp at his board.
Duchamp At His Chessboard
When I was young
I thought
(Very enthusiastically)
That music was all a matter of skill.
As I've grown older
And acquired a modicum of skill
I have come to appreciate enthusiasm much more.
Perhaps when I die
I shall be silent and wise.
That is all.
I hope someday before I die
To become silent and wise.
Like Marcel Duchamp at his board.
First: Art is in your fingers, expressed through your brush.
Later: Art is where you find it, expressed through your eye.
Finally: Art is what you are, your life is the why.
I hope someday before I die
To become silent and wise.
Like Marcel Duchamp at his board.
On his deathbed, Voltaire spat in the face
Of the priest sent to administer rites.
"The man is the work, and reason the light
Begone to your dismal abode".
Hiding behind the Platonic reflections
Marks a cowardly and incurious mind.
Get out of the cave, come into the light
Stand like a man, don't kneel like a slave.
What is, is, and what is not
Simply has never been.
Love one another, do your part
Try to leave the world a better place
Than it was
Whenever you came.
Before I die I'd be silent and wise
Like Marcel Duchamp at his board.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)