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Of Transcendental Meaning's Dread Decay I strive to understand, to no avail: We write our lives like drunken scriveners Upon the universe's reams and reams Of space and time in biochemical Calligraphy, in strokes illegible. No seer yet discerns nor sorcerer Perceives, no poet yet in full describes Nor artist wholly represents, the sum And record of our runes; no scientist Can quantify the ordered tumult of Our characters, the pandemonium Of hieroglyphs we scribble and we scrawl; No learned sage could read the chaos of Our letterings nor wise decipherer Decode our enigmatic lines; nor yet Could oracle divine demystify Our cryptic text. I too am doomed to fail. I speak in ceaseless speeches to myself-- Reciting endless rote soliloquy, Repeating monologues from memory-- And search for meaning in my weary words And musing meditations; silently I whisper secret mantras, mutter chants And incantations, murmur cadences Of randomly remembered rhetoric's Incestuous associations and Incessantly recycled syllables, And seek anew significance and sense In sad and empty echoings of lost Profundity.... Delusionary dreams Deliver vague and vexing promises Of import, serving only to remind: In former times I understood the masked And masquerading Mysteries of Life And penetrated turgid talk of Truth; I viewed illuminated insight then, Could comprehend the Tao. What have I meant-- What could I possibly have meant?--by all These thoughtless thoughts? Relentless reveries Devoid of depth inspire naught but dread: I probe these melancholy maunderings For point or rationale, and try in vain To conjure purpose with semantic wand From streams of nihilistic sibilance; No mystic intuition yet reveals Itself, nor sudden bright satori brings Its blissful moment's brief enlightenment. I cannot fathom fundamental scheme In mad absurdities disclosing nil, Nor satisfying subtlety derive From desiccated data's disarray-- My feeble efforts are but sophistry And requiem for hope, unwitting sham Of psyche's somnolent monotony; I weep to mourn the death of consequence, And I at last surrender, and despair. (© 1995) The Magic Runes: Inscriptions of Our Gods Behold the power of the magic runes! To speak of suns and planets, stars and moons: Inspired scrivenings of prodigies Who join themselves across the centuries, Encoding gravity and symphonies In patternings and strange calligraphies --The script of gods, the glyphs of deities-- Creating clouds and coastlines, mountains, trees, With symbols of our youthful race's rise And casting off of primitive disguise. The magic of the runes endures beyond The momentary waving of a wand To leave for all a lasting legacy In testament to masters' wizardry: Displays our cosmos' regularity As with triumphant rationality These characters of ancient art profound Deliver their discerning verdicts sound, Describe with perfect grace and clarity The mysteries of our reality And show to us the deep infinitudes In complex nature's elegant études. Behold the power of the magic runes! Behold! to cosmos every god attunes! Descartes and Euclid, Gauss, Cauchy, Pascal and Galileo and Curie; Jacobi, Archimedes, Dirichlet, And Boltzmann, Hamilton, and Poincaré; Von Neumann, Ramanujan, and Galois, Dirac and Fermi, Heisenberg, Fermat; Pythagoras and Leibniz, Newton, Klein, And Maxwell, Planck, Lorentz, and Einstein; Lagrange and Riemann, Schrödinger and Bohr, Gell-Mann and Feynman, Wheeler, Hawking, more.... Inventions of collective genius point To miracles of gods whom we anoint: The magic of the runes endures beyond The reckoning of years to form a bond With honored dead who sit on hallowed thrones And calculate with ancient blood and bones The course of thinking humankind's ascent From solid ground--to starry firmament. (© 2000) |
war the moon all misty white--cold; the sky all dark, the stars dull shadows. holy cyclops licks white bones, ....belly full, marches off content, ........crimson footprints staining the ground-- and the silent shiver of the trees; the silent shiver of the trees. (© 1977) Come Again Next Year The clock reads Too late. Soft winter's snow Covers sweet soil, And buries tears. Come again next year. (© 1980) Museumpiece Inside the glass cage The pendulum swings. Chimes strike: ..Frozen, they ring forever. Cameras click, snapping up ..The transience of the moment. Chimes strike: ..Shattered glass, ....And finally I escape. (© 1981) The Red Menace Tread softly, my friend, for this ground is sacred: Raving maniacs shriek through the day, of terrors in the night and monsters of the darkness, screaming lunacy down the hallways of oneway minds and blinded alleys, standing at the altar of sin. Tread softly. This ground is sacred. (© 1981) the war is over with a word, the war is over. nights without sleep, streets walked in darkest dark, pounded in senseless repetition away and away and away-- but home is nowhere. the war is over. (© 1981) Twilight Once, he was young. Now, the passing of the years has left him bent; white-haired and wrinkled, he no longer even moves. Silent, he waits with eyes the color of dead rainbows. (© 1981) M.I.A. muffled sounds in hallowed halls, corridors cloaked in silence; bittercold daggers, stiletto thrusts in the dead night. crying in the darkness: remember the fallen and the slain; remember the ghouls of the night. (© 1981) actress sitting in front of her mirror, she performs her hourglass magic. ..the audience will applaud the lady they see. (© 1981) The Mist The mist is a fine maiden speaking in soft whispers to the night and stretching herself over the quiet land. Covered in starlit shrouds, she lies on her dewdrop bed and sighs beneath the moon's caress, and breathes with sensuous breath the sweetness of her midnight love: aHer lover, the night. (© 1981) |
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honor thy dead silent crying in the darkness, muffled in the lifeless breathing of the night; and somber wreathes left to die on voiceless graves. (© 1981) Time I. Among the Ruins Let us walk, among the crumbling and the fallen monuments strewn over these soft green hills by the sea, and observe. The waves come rolling in, rolling in-- the waves come rolling in. Ancient marble lies crushed upon the ground, pulverized by the heavy march of Time, who cares not. Walk among the rubble. Feel the age burdening the standing stone, like the world on Atlas' shoulder. Tired, tired. The passing eons squeeze the life from the aged monuments till at last, dead, they tumble in torrents of lifeless dust. The waves come rolling in. II. The Sea Now, the level land is covered over with water. The monuments and the mountains are all smoothed down to nothing, as uncaring Time moves on. The sun glints off the surface of some unknown rock before the tide. And then the sea rolls in and rolls in; the sea comes rolling in. (© 1981) Oracle Seeker Tell us, what is it you want? Truth, you say? But you already know Truth; harbor it inside you like a political dissident. Tell us, what is it you want? (© 1981) Adolescent Goddess, Found in a Picture Album Such lovely legs! Where did you get them? Certainly not the 5&10. Skinny, you say? No, I don't think so. I don't see that at all. But lovely!--gorgeous: like fine white sculpture in ancient Greek ideal-- you a fine goddess sitting on the lawn, in this photo. You sure you didn't borrow yourself from Aphrodite, just for this picture? (© 1981) Spirit Play The stage is set, the play prepared, the players in the wings; the audience awaits the starting of the show. Now, the voices of the dead arise and out of the star-filled ether appear and hover in vap'ry glow and speak to the agents of the now. The music rises, the footlights shine, the actors take the stage. The dialogue begins. Listen to the unborn stars selecting roles and screeching protest at their acceptance as they are borne or thrust onto the stage and scream indignant rage! The massèd throngs speak repeated lines over and over and over, following some unseen script down the ages and ages and forgotten ages, all ignorant of the voices of the dead; while others sit in lotus meditation and contemplate the turning of the years and the moving of the stars and hope to hear the dancing voices speak. And a few just do what needs to be done and unstrivingly absorb the essence of the words and the spirit of the play and enjoy in silent smiling amusement the cantata of the day, this speechless dialogue. Now the play is over, now the audience departs. The show goes on tomorrow. The eve is done. (© 1982) shadow ghosts temples long destroyed and gone beneath the knowing sea whispering tales in sibilant waves; broken towers and fallen monuments lying upon desert sands and wearing down to dust. beware the motions of the stars erasing meaning from the vanities of man-- beware the legacies of time. (© 1983) Walking the Wood To love you and to never have you--- And so I walk the woods and listen to the incantations of the trees. To the decrees of silent winds stirring the crucible within-- the cauldron's dark uneven fire. And so I am the salamander in his element, like Proteus beneath the violent sea or some spacewalking astronaut daring the starry deep: or some spacewalking astronaut daring the starryalone; And so I walk the woods and think of you. (© 1983) Anointed One His time arrives. He girds himself, prepares To meet the enemy. The gods have said Their silent word, removed distracting cares And fears; in coming battle, all blood bled And glist'ning scarlet drops then drawn by sword Unsheathed shall be well shed: his weapon's steel Will slash with certain pride, declare him lord And prince beneath the watching sky, will seal His noble destiny. He dares upon This sunlit lea opponent's futile thrust Annunciate his coronation: don The royal garb and sate the gods! who thus Through elevated mortal live their lives-- The gods have said their word. His time arrives. (© 1985) Memory Forgotten Who are you, and where have you come from? I do not remember you. Your cut of garb, your accent, Your strangely printed runes and characters Upon your vest--these I do not remember. Have I forgotten you? Did I know you once, sometime, Somewhere, or even here? Have I supped with you and slept with you And spoken your name in odd disjointed dreams, perhaps, Somewhere long ago? Do the runes and characters Upon your vest somewhere contain me, speak Of us and times together? Bring your tunic To me. Did I know you once, and then forget? I remember naught of you. I do not know you. Troubler, begone. Take your tunic with you. (© 1986) A Little Night Music: A Toast, to Dear Friends and Diplo Hello, old friends. Here we are again, To drink of spirits fine, To savor draughts of bonhomie, Of cheer and warm camaraderie, To quaff fermenting memory, To relish hearty wine. Here we are again, To bring this idle wood to life and make these pieces sing: With air of secret harp we serenade each fallen king, With madrigal of stolen squares, with music of the spheres; 'Midst ticking of the double clock and turning of the years We play familiar fugue of mirthful eve's enchanting score, A rhapsody and reverie of noble game's allure, As though in some intoxicating dream of waking sleep; Tonight, old friends, we celebrate the company we keep. And so once more the wine. The melodies of time and chess, Our binding songs, permit no less. Drink deep of spirits fine. Get out the chips and pizza. Let's play. (© 1991) |
we die at twelve irresistible. maddening, all the same. somatic subversion, psychic treason. hormones loosed, reason lost. no one denies biology and survives unscathed; no one obeys biology and survives unchanged. who remains is not oneself. "before" and "after" pictures lie: there is no identity. we die at twelve and birth impostors. (© 1987) Of Joyous Moment's Glee Delight in moment free! The child does not cage His revelry in rage Of future's jealousy. Exult within the now! Delight in moment free! With zest and vibrancy The newest day endow! O instant most intense! O passion of the night! In moment free, delight: Enjoy experience! The joy of pleasures bright Does not diminish where There is no further care-- In moment free, delight! ------------------------- Seek ardor in a sigh Tonight with twinkling eye; Who knows what happens hence? Believe in present tense! Tomorrow's not in sight. In moment free--delight! (© 1995) Tea and Destiny Ask me in for tea, Plan our destiny: Make my dreams your own, Lovely lover mine-- Laugh at all my jokes, Share my world with me, Come away with me. Then, O lover mine, Reciprocity: Tell me all your jokes, Show your world to me, Hold me close to thee. Make your dreams my own. This way shall it be, Lovely lover mine: Hope and possibility, Laughter shared eternally, One reality. Ask me in for tea; Plan our destiny. (© 1997) Sentient Datavore I live in your computer. Ghost in the machine Or Deus ex machina? Your choice. Label me. Just remember Audrey II. Feed me, Seymour! (© 1998) Zoo Drawn to ducks on water, my nephew --two-- ignored elephants lions peacocks monkeys snakes giraffes rhinoceroses penguins bears hippopotami, fascinated by the fountain just inside the zoo. At three perhaps they all will catch his eye. This year. Perhaps. (© 1999) Schrödinger's Cat Schrödinger's cat lives behind half-silvered walls in a black box in Copenhagen. Schrödinger's cat dies behind half-silvered walls in an impenetrable casket in Copenhagen. Nine lives and nine deaths superpose for the camera in a magician's chamber in Copenhagen. The flash enters cat's-eye double slits and mysteriously interferes with vision. (© 2000) Goddesses Are Never Plain My Hindu goddess writes long missives I greedily devour like a drunken elephant intoxicating itself on fermented mahua flowers. She fears that one day my fascination with her could cease, that I could possibly find her plain or ordinary. As though a sober elephant could ever forget the intoxication of the mahua. As though a goddess could ever be plain! (© 2003) My Valentine My Valentine trails flaxen hair And flutters emerald eye, Bewitches and beguiles me With sly unsubtle stare; My lover tosses sun-gold tress And utters little sigh, Entices and enmeshes me With delicate caress. And every other worldly care Is gone within her loveliness. (© 2004) new beginnings pink and yellow tulips open first, their delicate romantic blooms emitting season's promising perfume, and presage passion's red, carnelian flowering of hope and life and joy lavender azaleas spread their petals wide and welcome giant bumblebees, who settle there and ravish them like lovers long forgotten, recently returned to hope and life and joy tiger swallowtail appears in sudden swoop and grazes tulip and azalea, dancing on the vernal air and vowing summer's kiss and kiss and loving kiss of blossoms' eager lips, a black and yellow lepidopteran embodiment of hope and life and joy now is time for unrestrained desire dressed as spring's exuberant renewal now is time for new beginnings (© 2006) |
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Tell Me You tell me of your world with your words, And we listen to the singing of the birds; But above their superficial voices, As you tell me of your world with your words, I wonder: What impels your choices? Do I know you better than the birds?-- Or is all I hear just superficial voices? I don't know what you've said. Meaning has died its dreadful death, Leaving me, bereaving me; I don't know what you've said. Meaning has died its dreadful death without relief. Meaning lied. What impels your choices? Your reply is stolen from me. I cannot hear. I cannot hear. fivesO dear one! Do I know you better than the birds?-- Or is all I hear just superficial voices? Tell me of your world, my love, with your words. I'll listen to the singing of the birds, And nod yes, yes. Tell me of your world. (© 1985) Wearing Age When we met, you were young. Now, you wear your age like a rumpled mohair sweater that has dined too often in the company of fools and suffered silently through too many faculty dinners, wrinkling in distaste. (© 1986) Modern Times, a.k.a. Group Session I could tell you, mermaid, There is no place for you here. This ignoble time renounces spells This ignoble time renouncand magic; Your charm is lost. We banish you. No. Not even so. For We do not even notice. (© 1987) Desire's Deity In rooms of smoke and incense she Approaches and addresses me, And with ethereal intensity Intones devoutly, "Blessed Be." How earnestly she speaks to me! How full of flame her fi'ry eyes Alight with her belief, an ecstasy That blazes even in her sighs! In chambers rank with hanging clouds She dresses in her spirit's shrouds And smoothly passes through unnoticed crowds Her hallowed message to espouse. But slitted garb reveals her thighs, And luminescence which suggests The outline of her figure firm belies The curvature of female breasts; And piercing eyes and visage bright Inspire more than my respect, As in her flowing gown of purest white She has immediate effect: She has the sweet duality That makes my pulse accelerate: Aesthetics blends with sensuality, Impossible to separate. She is desire's deity! In vain imaginings I kneel And delicate caresses gingerly Upon her trembling tresses feel, And hold her outstretched hand and seek The beating pulse within her wrist, Traverse with fingertips her smooth white cheek; Imagine I this goddess kissed. From instant's sweet deluded dream I wake to see her sit beside Me, feel her passion's breath like engine's steam, Perceive her ardor to confide: In rooms of smoke and incense she Approaches and addresses me, But with ethereal intensity Intones devoutly, "Blessed Be," And lightly leaves, desire's deity. (© 1997) Devour Me Absurdity I spend my life in ardent chase of Truth, In dubious pursuit of passions' point, In quest of some transcendent purpose lest This tragicomedy degenerate To mere absurdity; I spend my days Consumed by ceaseless search for meaning. Consumed by ceaseless search for meaning. But No alchemist commingles elements Of mind or matter, thought or energy, To form a compound full of value just For me, and no composer's symphony Moves parasitic god with outstretched claw To scratch my deadly curiosity. A toast, to mere absurdity: you win. (© 1999) The Leaving I sense your doubt and tell you I am ever yours, As long as you should want me lying by your side, Until you nullify our magic love's allures. What guarantee is there that present love endures? You tremble in my arms, your nervousness belied; I sense your doubt and tell you I am ever yours. I understand the promises your heart abjures, Your inability to let yourself decide Until you nullify our magic love's allures. The depth of your uncertainty! From distant shores You ask of me how I can know we will abide; I sense your doubt and tell you I am ever yours. But now I learn that you feel safer closing doors, Retreating, leaving me, within yourself to hide Until you nullify our magic love's allures. I know the loyalty that timeless love adjures But cannot make you trust the love you have denied. I sense your doubt and tell you I am ever yours Until you nullify our magic love's allures. (© 2006) My Angel Visits I miss her already. My angel comes to me like magic, drives across the separating miles, lands herself upon my waiting step, arrives, delivers me herself into my hands. . . . Like magic . . . I want to do this again and again and again. We visit after typing out our needs across the silent cyberspatial void; the telephone has but conveyed the seeds of her appeal, and I am overjoyed. . . . Like magic . . . I want to do this over and over and over. We take her angel to the spacious mall and walk the artificial paths within; I help her angel climb and not to fall and then to glide down children's slide, and grin. . . . Like magic . . . I want to do this again and again and again. I hold my angel close before she leaves and gaze into her happy gray-blue eyes; we softly kiss, and gently touching weave a loving web to catch our parting sighs. . . . Like magic . . . I want to do this over and over and over. I miss her already. (© 2006) |
legacies flowers lie buried beneath rich soil and drink dark wine. the breathing of the trees is solemn solace to those who weep. (© 1983) Dawn Pink streaks fill the sky in bacon strips And heatless steam prepares the yolk. (© 1984) the poet bursting into bloom waiting, in Alphonse and Gaston silences-- no, not even that. exchanging nervous and coquettish glances like virgin boy and girl about to share fragile intimacies, long-held secrets bursting furtively into bloom. waiting, shy of the words revealing ourselves, excited and afraid of the irrevocable decision. make love with your words. (© 1984) telephones the telephones are being disconnected. listen: click. click. click. one by one the connections sever, the threads break; the web falls apart into ancient, disconnected dust. it is the end of the world. (© 1984) Alike the Worms and Eagles Nothing cold in winter's air, as ere there Has been; nothing warm in summer's ray. I Feel no more the shifting tides, the seasons' Changing breezes; lying under settled Dust, enshrouded and entombed, I take my Leave of roving stars and lunar phases. Joy nor grief; nor awe nor fear; nor sense of Majesty: betouched by none, I do not Even say farewell. Alike the worms and Eagles die, and offer none advice: the Dead no longer feel--we dead no longer Care. (© 1985) Gardens Weeds crowd flowers ....and thrive in rich soil. ........Densely shadowing. Flowers fight weeds ....and survive poor light. ........Sparsely blossoming. ..............................Frost kills. (1988) Zen Stones Nature put these stones in Zen arrangement, a small, irregular rock garden filled with weeds and leaves and grass and unrespected invertebrates climbing over chipped and chiseled surfaces to unknown, unseen destinations. A tree sings in the breeze and the rocks are silent as Zen masters, silent as Nature sorting and arranging, silent as Earth thinking. (© 1989) For Whom Bell Tolls Do not ask for whom Bell tolls; he tolls for Einstein, and Bohm, and thee. Experiment's Aspect shocks us: the moon is not there when no one looks. "No reasonable definition of reality could be expected to permit this." Do not ask for whom Bell tolls; he tolls for Einstein, and Bohm, and thee. (© 1999) You Speak to Me As Spirits Must You rise from the realm of the dead In shadow glow of indigo And in your voice of long ago You speak to me as spirits must, In tired half-remembered tongues And breath of long-discarded lungs Unmeasured ages gone to dust, With perfect resignation speak My assignation with the bleak, Inspire me with fearful dread; You rise from the realm of the dead And in your silent sibyl's voice Inform me of my barren fate In tones of hopeless gray fatigue: Condemned to go and join your league Outside of time on destined date. You say that I am stripped of choice And fill me with a fearful dread. And left unsaid and left unread The finer points of your decree, For feathered pianissimo Compels me now to leave, to go, Bereft of living dignity; A moment still, another breath Of air before I must despair And learn the password of your lair-- Before I speak your shibboleth And join tonight the newly dead. I listen now to what you've said. For you dwell the land of the dead And speak to me as spirits must. Onward, then, to bone and dust. (© 2000) The Cheshire Smile of Empty Space Entered the world of quasars and galaxies, Went to the realm of pulsars and nebulae, And there encountered you. You dwelt within the stellar winds And wrapped yourself in stardust; You hid among magnetic fields And camouflaging ions And dared us all to find you. Philosophers and scientists Have sought your laughing face With clever arguments And sophisticated instruments, But probing eyes could never see you In your subtle hiding place. I knew you by your smile. And no charade of glowing gas Nor supercharged veneer of virtual particles, No well-conceived hypothesis Nor careful chain of nuanced reasoning, No dictate of mass spectrometer Nor measurement of radiometer, Will make me disbelieve. For I have seen your beauty, Void-- And smile back. (© 2003) |
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Here is my own private lake stocked with time and memories into which I throw myself in search of that elusive mermaid, Truth. Nothing jumps out at me none of my precious past suggesting other than random occurrences happening in some sort of unknown order, all chaotic. |
Everything jumps out at me all of my thoughts and feelings shouting in unnamed voices pattern! pattern! and purpose driving all these events in networked order, seeming all chaotic. Out of this lake I emerge, suffused with transcendent glow, ready to walk the earth with that captive secret, Truth. |
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in the heart of the country the secret is the silence. being alone, i have mastered this: with nothing saying everything and stillness signifying all, the heart is undisturbed. |
in the heart of the city the secret is the silence. within the throng, i have mastered this: with everything saying nothing and motion signifying nil, the heart is undisturbed. |
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flickerflutter flame undulating candlelight ebbing radiance evanescent runes fluctuating characters dying hieroglyphs |
transient images everchanging contours fading afterglow fleeting epigrams metamorphic poetry vanishing haiku |