Sailing

the bay thawed
you walked by its border
and into its rippling surface you stared

knowing that dry land
was the place of lies and commerce

the bay is enclosed
on one side by large homes
satisfied people on a thin strip between waters
on the other by the vast cathedrals of industry
grain, metal, ore, ships, fire, energy

you looked to the bridge and it came to you
this indistinct line on the other side
the very tip of an ancient hollow
thousands and thousands and thousands
of gallons of water, fresh water

lost in its center dying of hunger
one would not die of thirst

itself dwarfed by seas of silence
seas of blue and coral
seas of wild storms and ice
seas of windless haze for miles

where you had premonitions of death
and you wondered how you would accept it
how would you go to it when it came
so many many days from a quiet sunlit street

early days of spring
no white sails yet moving on the
shattered surface

the bay
can be contained by the lake
the lake
can be contained by the seas
the seas

are only contained by One Thing

D.B. (draft one)

You had a sense of something beyond the horizon
The small victories of commerce could not satisfy you
And this because there is a final Victory
Beyond the splashings of boys with toy boats
Well beyond the nervous struggle for a small advantage

It no longer was a matter of the theft of another's items
Or utterance of words, even one's own

I came to know you this evening
Waves dashed up, silvery, against stone
All was monotone save for some edge of the sky
Where a light, where a color, hovered in almost
Consciousness of its own delicacy
Against the gloom

It is my belief
That your action was designed not for this sandbox struggle
This grimacing and grunting for a flag
But rather
For that sole strip at the edge of the world
Between the clouds

Bombings

You go back and forth

What you do to them
What they do to you

Your retribution
For what they did to you
Strengthens them
Their strength

Strengthens you

You never crush one another

You do, however

Crush those of us who take off
The armor

You do, however

Succeed in killing gentleness

With your vests and backpacks
With your guns and helicopters
And sports sunglasses

You won't kill them
But you will  trample us

The Lattice

In inky blackness or across paper thin surfaces
You could call them the opposite of cracks appearing
Invisible to the eye
On a non-liquid through which constantly travel
Waves of truth

Outside of your toes, of your eyes, of that facial expression, of your nails
Wrapped around the phallus of my ego and not roughly moving

Beautiful

No one should prod or poke this eternal surface in its congealing
For these you must know are the opposite of cracks

Fun

You cannot prod or poke it you must let it stand and you must let the opposite of cracks
Like the fingers of trees on a steel sky or light on light in thousands of lights
Or nerves, or dancing organisms, dancing - do not prod them

You must say "beyond good and evil" which is the same as a code word for
truth

If you want to keep your love - kiss

Do not under any circumstances let either fear or haste touch these gradually appearing
Opposites of cracks because these lines
Are a painting

of Love

Fields

The world is a strange field upon which deeds are written
An interlaced web of mirrors in which faces are revealed

Deeds of courage send perturbations out through these fields
And also thoughts which seem to be wired in between everything

What good are miracles to those of us left behind
Are they any better than lighthouses to ships already wracked on the reefs?

This field and its events are not two
Existence precedes essence

These deeds turn brushes that paint colors on wheels that spin back
Upon themselves over eternity

The Tiger (to Blake and Stevens equally)

The tiger was moving by the fence
Then the tiger sat down on the rock
From the balcony the children watched the tiger
And it started to roar, and roar
Not loud, not quietly, by the fence

Just as though saying
I am beyond weary of this pen
I deserve better than this pen

How to put this?
The world was surrounding the tiger
The tiger was blowing the world
Into bits

I'll never see anything
In the same way again

nD

canst thou reach in and cup that pure rose dwelling beneath my ribs?
in spite of antipathy to poesie anglaise

so in diversion from that hallowed tradition and with respect
to the ongoing ravel-shastokovich dialogue

let this then be as much a glittering thing that sparkles unexpectedly
from the void and then as easily transfigures (this poem, not THIS)

the rose that is ponted to by Jesus is trembling
some roses must grow upside down, and flower
(at least for a time) in the cool ground

your fingers are holding it

In Traffic

you have to understand
the two variable play of music and traffic

so for example
at times you may be travelling faster than the traffic
and for that reason
in conjunction with some song that drips power
you may believe yourself
superhuman

and then in another time
with ice sheeting the roads
and quiet baroque, so as to be able
to hear the environment and its hazards
you consdier yourself
prudent

or in summer
with something haunting and heartbroken playing
and left lane acceleration because the ease is right
so you have further to travel
and everyone is going at the same rate
the sun glints off cars
you consider yourself
content