Posts Tagged ‘love’

Life way down deep

April 3, 2015

The life was new.

The life was hidden, withdrawn, but stirring beneath the surface

of man, restless

feeling incomplete, as if he were only half

of something and where pray tell is

the other half.

Oh but the life

the whippersnappin’ life was young and foolish, darting out in

spurts, random, irresponsibly.

Lonely.

The life was at a loss.

Meanwhile,

the wise was keeping vigil, watching protectively, counseling gently

in the stirring of the wind:

Wait. Focus. Control yourself. Learn. Prepare. Use what you’ve got.

Use.

Not abuse.

Love.

Not shove.

Love.

Not thrust.

Trust.

Don’t throw it on the ground;

don’t cast it out when you’re in town.

Find a place that’s safe and sound

and slightly round.

There is a place for you if you will seek, if you will

wait upon her, ‘though mishaps there may be,

‘though dark days you will see.

Destiny, providentially so-to-speak, whispers

in those dark hours of the night,

but also in the clarity of the bright light

and in the very horned beastly midst of your fight

for peace of mind, and fulfillment,

self-actualization, what we use to call

holiness.

Project not yourself into any old hole; cast not your pearl

to front,  nor to rear.

You, my precious life, are too dear

to sputter in the rear.

Oh, wipe away your tear.

Train your sorrow to flow;

direct your milky force to go

into something worthwhile, like . . .

work. I don’t know. Think about it.

Don’t jerk.

Don’t be a jerk,

and please don’t twerk. But rather,

Wait. Watch. Focus. Learn. Prepare. Believe. Use what you’re given.

Be just a little driven

but not obnoxiously so.

Just go

and do the best you can,

and when she comes, your half will become

whole.

Like I said, in not just any hole.

Whole.

For the sake of your soul,

and the soul of them who are to come

when you are done.

 

Glass half-Full

She is love

January 25, 2015

She is love, and that’s why

I married her.

Thirty-five years ago.

Everything about her is love and so

I noticed her,

and I thought:

She is not like me; she

makes up the difference between

me and every other damned thing

in the world.

How many mornings, at work, have I wondered

who am I? and how

did I get here

in this place in life. And then,

she brings me all the way across

an ocean and

an old continent,

AlpsOver

to wake up

on a sunny morning in Athens

to this:

AthensMorng

Like I said, she is

all about love.

 

Glass half-Full

The Poet’s Dream

January 3, 2015

My friend tossed up some interesting thoughts about life and poetry and God-only-knows what he was talking about . . .

lookingforthelongride/nothing new under the sun

His ruminations inspired me, so I wrote this poem, dedicated to my friend, and the search that we embarked upon many years ago:

Let us ride then, you and I

along this way that you ascribe.

We know that we began–you and I,

and all our brethren on this ride–

as squirmy fertilating squirts

in search of pregnant, ripening, love.

We stumbled into ecstasy, but then we find it hurts;

So we sculpt protective nests, with children from above.

Yeah, we cultivate truth and faith along the way,

weeding out the doubt, the sin, the strife.

Cast your bread–our Ancient of Days doth say

upon the passing waters of this life. . .

It will return to you after many days–

all the faith and hope and love we tossed into that stream;

In spite of trouble, pain, and our wicked ways,

we’ll gather love far greater than the Poet’s dream.

Smoke

Happy to be a Radical Centrist

November 1, 2014

Thank God, the autumn years of my life have landed me in position of being a radical centrist.

The Democrats are fixated on entitlements, victimhood and income inequality; the Republicans are obsessed with guns, selfishness and romanticizing what this country used to be.

Here’s news for you Democrats: Roosevelt (may peace be upon him) died, a long time ago.

And news for the Republicans: Reagan (God bless him) also died, a little while back.

Lately, the residues of these two legacies have polarized toward two extremes: wild-eyed progressives on one end, chubby conservatives on the other. But what the world needs now is, as Dionne Warwick sang, love, sweet love, whhich means, politically: people in the middle like me, lest the whole dam American experiment fall apart. Blessed are the peacemakers.

As a 63-year-old boomer, I identify with the protest that was raised by young whippersnappers in the streets of Chicago during the Democratic convention of 1968. I would love to have been there, but I was a student doing a summer job. Even so, I also appreciate the protest that Tea Party people have raised, in recent decades, against our debilitating welfare state. I probably shoulda been there too, at the tea party, but I had to work that day.

Both Movements have their legitimate, appreciable place in the history of this great free nation. And both have their respective bowel movements to dispose.

There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, regardless of who pays or doesn’t pay for it. We gotta keep the planet clean, while keeping things together on the home front.

It’s time now for both sides to acknowledge that the other side has a right to be here too, because, you know, none of us are just going to “go away.”

Although each of us will, in due time, go away from  this life.

I find myself, as a maturing centrist, continuously fascinated with and appreciating the legitimate talking points of both extremes, left and right. So I offer some advice for you all you extremists out there, all ye SDSers and John Birchers, all ye libertines and libertarians:

To you Occupy activists, and all ye who are so progressively inclined: I feel your pain, but its probably best that you just find a job instead of hanging out in the street with a sign. If you can’t find a job that suits you, get a part-time gig and then start creating, on the side, a job of your very own design. Maybe it’s a garden on a vacant lot or in your back yard. Maybe it’s just helping old folks and kids cross the street, or collecting sunshine. That would be better than waiting for the government or the dreaded corporatacracy to generate the right job for you. Your mission to improve the world begins with providing for, and managing, your own household.

To you Libertarian preppers, and all ye who are conservatively inclined: Don’t be dogmatic. Dismantling the federal behemoth too abruptly would put thousands or millions of workers on the street who are probably not prepared to pull their own weight, and then we would have a real mess on our hands. I know that you yourself are self-sufficient, or wannabe. You think you can do it all on their own and you do understand that you didn’t build that road and all that, but the days are coming when you will find it expedient to share a little of what you’ve got with others who are less fortunate. And it just may turn out that it’s not the tyrannical feds, but rather God himself ,requiring this benevolence of thee.

Come ye, all Americans.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus. Find your center and say: Om ready to be the best that I can be today, and the world will be a better place as a result of it.

Glass half-Full

Fidelity is the way to go

July 12, 2013

A man cannot

love all the lovely women of this world.

What’s best is to choose

one,

and love her well.

Then she is satisfied, and he is taken care of,

while God is pleased and

society hums along more contentedly.

Oh and btw,

along the way

children are born: this is the real

miracle.

The sacrifice the man makes, being faithful and

fatherly,

becomes a tribute and preserver to his own ongoing

sanity

and the children’s

stability. It is a win-win

for everybody.

You see, the man would go crazy trying to love all those beautiful

women out there. Really,

The only way to love all the women of this world is

to love one woman well, and smile at

all those others. Then say to them:

Peace be with you.

 

Glass half-Full

Haight Ashbury

March 30, 2013

At Haight Ashbury yesterday

we walked through

an I be blinkin thinking

was it raunchy like this

from the beginning?

From 1967 love revolution summer

to devolution sleaze street bummer

the magic’s gone

maybe puff the dragon’s on

methadone

or did the neighborhood fall into some

huckster hole?

Go ask Alice; I think she’ll know.

Was descent from hippish sniffin

to hypish hawkin a given?

like destiny, always there to begin with

in the you-cant-put it-off-forever

headache stems and seeds,

Or did somethin fundamental change between then

and now?

I guess Life magazine left town

when the turn-on tuned out and dropped off;

the radicals crashed, their rose-colored dreams

trashed.

After the serious communards got their fill

of castles in the air and starshine dreams,

after they flipped out on fickle fellow-man,

fed-up with hangers-on and turn-offs,

they flew the coop.

No more roll-another-one-my-friend;

you gotta take this rough life by the scruff, and fend.

 

But then we passed into a Park or Golden Gate–

it was some everland beyond the Haight–

where there is music of the ancient human soul;

there breezes blow and children go.

Their parents’ call out gentle admonitions

that seem to banish old perditions.

And I hear trusty horses as they carousel around,

while mamas give loving nudges in the playground.

Cool breeze beneath sequoia boughs then reassured my soul,

after we had passed through Alice’s raunchy rabbit hole.

Glass half-Full

DOMAin

March 29, 2013

When two fit together as one

and love

from beginnin to end,

and  they mend

each other’s hearts

and  do coitus

with intimate their parts

then all the world be better place,

’cause two take care

each other, make less burden

for society,

and good variety

when twenty-three wi twenty-three

make forty-six:

aint no tricks

’cause they get their kicks

wi each other

stead o spreading it around

all over town–

no EsTeeDee no Hiv

you see?

And when them two fit together

in most intimate parts

with beatin hearts

like screw and nut,

gut to gut.

Then later

when bambino slide out

wi joyful shout,

then life goes on.

be it daughter or son.

They make domain:

DOMAin.

Ask me again and

I’ll tell you the same.

Glass Chimera

Elusive Butterfly of Love

February 11, 2013

When I was young and foolish, this song by Bob Lind was one of my favorites. It is a beautiful song, a profoundly metaphorical poem set to music. I often hummed the song, or sang it to myself when I was feeling romantic and lonely.

Lately, I’ve found myself singing the song again. I do not know how or why this happened; maybe it was the proximity of Valentine’s day.

Being the romantic, right-brain, scattered-out fuzz brain poet/musician/author that I am, I might have spent my entire 61 years chasing that elusive butterfly of love that the song describes.

But hey! That’s not the way it happened. Thanks to Pat, my wife, I have spent the last 33 years, since 1980, actually IN LOVE instead of pursuing it as some unattainable ideal. Thank you, Pat!

That creature of love  was not so elusive after all. And we have three grown earth-inhabitants to prove it.

I give thanks and praise to the Lord for that day in 1979 when I first saw her face as we stood in line for a musical/coffee house event in Asheville. . . reminds me of another old song.

CR, with new novel, Smoke, in progress

Growth is good, or bad?

September 8, 2012

When I was a young man, I found this seed inside myself, and I wanted to plant it, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to do, so I cast my seed on the ground; I flung it all around.

Then I met my woman, and she received my seed from me and made it into something beautiful–another human being.

And this was good.

Then we made another one, and another one after that.

And these were good.

Life is good, yes?

So we discovered, my woman and I, that working and loving together, we could make the world a livelier place, by bringing new life into it, children, who would grow, and bloom like beautiful, tender flowers, and then grow up to make the world a better place.

Growth is good, yes?

And considering all the stuff we bought along the way, we did our share to contribute to GDP. And considering all the stuff our kids bought and built along the way, they did their share to contribute to GDP.

GDP is good, nest ce pas?

Now along comes my g-generation and makes an announcement to the world. My g-generation announces that, along with all that great prosperity-building GDP–all that good, coveted, economic growth that keeps everybody fat n happy,  or lean and mean as some prefer, there is something else coming out of it all–something that is bad, not good, spewing forth from every exhaust pipe and every flue and chimney, from every power plant and from every rhetorical mouth and every bipolar human heart and indeed from every anus that requires wiping on the planet:

Carbon.

Carbon, which is at the core of every living thing. Carbon, which we send up through the chimney as waste, or spread on the ground to make our roads, or put in our steel to make it stronger. Carbon, that we use to write messages to each other, or to connect our marvelous social networks together. Carbon, which, in its purest, most dazzling form, we cut into a precious gem, and place it on the ring finger to signify fidelity and fertility and creativity and all that is good in this life.

Carbon is good, nest ce pas?

It is as good as life itself.

Life is good, no?

Yes. Life is good. It is for us; how about you? Life is so good that I rejoiced at the revelation of its unique DNA identity– its miraculous beauty, when my errant seed found its destined place of fertility and joy, deep within the love of my woman.

As for the GDP thing–and how good or bad that is–that may change as more men choose to cast their miracles into dark crevices of carboniferous death.

Glass half-Full

Celebratin dadahood

July 24, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BII702alEMc

To father a child is awesome.

You can’t just grab the kid and toss ‘I’m.

To raise that child is a heavy duty–

gotta provide some food and some booty

Yeah,  it be a responsibility weight:

you gotta make an impact on his fate.

But raisin him up  has  benefits:

Satisfaction ‘stead of cracky fits and chasin tits

Yeah to love and care for mama be a joyous thing

make a man rap and hip and hop and sing.

Love is where its at I say

it really the best and only way

My Man Sneeze–he be a friend o mine–laid down his rappin hiphop track

about his dada, his life, his son, his escape from whack

job.

Ain’t no sob.

When a man realize he brought another soul into the world

by getting it on wi his precious girl

what a revelation to find that beautiful pearl

it make a man wanna change his world.

Yeah Sneeze say, yeah so Jah say:

(and I hear today)

“…wish I could be a makin up for the time I missed.”

(gotta  be better way than the rock and fist)

“…the —— wasn’t meant for us.”

(thats right you know we gotta get beyond the fuss)

Yeah Sneeze say, so Jah say:

(and I hear today:)

“Mysiah (my son) need to be in clothes;

thats why I’m in the zone–try and open up some bigger holes.”

 

(I say yeah the son gotta be taken care of

and Sneeze make a way for the boy to get out of

a way mo better that what his dada had

a way to make dada and son be glad.)

 

Tha’s a rap and tha’s a wrap,

aint no flap

and he told the world that

and I told the world what.

Glass half-Full