....From The Tree Of............Sudden Joys
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_______________________________________________________ Respite Bed. There's always that warm, broken-in hollow. Day doesn't have to follow you if you don't want. You have to be suspended by the arm hairs- that tight delicacy- mind over matter letting drifty sounds wrap lightly round the honeycomb . Fill chambers, ears and eyeholes with piped music, golden music going grayer as the day slips off like slippers and you're gone. Prayer For Dreams Dreams of being naked leaking light through every pore and port of alleluia. Dryad doing tree trunks drunk on fleeceless freedom, how we need 'em these bright passages through night. Dancing through their graveyards of discarded cars, rusted heaps of ghosts of milk deliveries and plumbers. We the rum runners of secret knocks and argyle socks we wear upon our hands to do the puppet show to make the kid inside, split-sided laughter. Lake of ladies, wave to knights; be my delight now, as I lay me down to sleep amid delapidating dusk. The musk of hibernation be my sweet salvation now, and toss me dahlias all night long. Seeing Sacred Sitting here in pink kimono, feeling peaceful eating toast and feeling how the world stops for the snow. Too deep to move. Cars are getting stranded, ones who will not chuck the notion they are bigger more important than the sweep of something stronger than their 4 wheel drive. I love when God comes down- even for a morning. Deception A day rolled up in sun with sweet jelly hidden inside a day that couldn't be winter is what I see outside this window. But if I open the door and poke a toe out into it will come back frozen and bright, kissed by light that has no heat. There are many days and people who shine like this- tax attorneys, politicians, Saturdays in February, crackling crisp Thanksgiving Day parades. Give me the smudgy darkness, yellow glow around the edges where the pots are hot. Nuthin Says Lovin Food fills us when there is no other filler for our lives, when danger looms we reach for calories, need heat to chase the chills. The boogeyman runs from restaurants there's too many close together plugging holes he'd like to stuff. It's not enough to extend good thoughts to someone hurting; words can never heal the way that chocolate says I love you or lasagna makes the loser, loose- Fig Newtons are the aspirins of childhood. Day By Day How can I describe the longness of winter, except to say it is a wait grim, jaw hardened, staring into a field of dirty gray that stretches on as far as the eye can see and shivering. Spring will come in little bells and butter, warm on toast with cinnamon. I sniff the air every day to catch the smell part of the heart awake in a bed of readiness longing to take that first jump at green. Commencement Address Before you put your faith in someone else to fix your life, remember you're your last best hope, so be resourceful. Trust yourself to face the sphinx and come up with an answer that won't get you killed. Spill cinders on the ice, chop wood for fire; lay on the logs, the winter's long. Don't wait for maybes when you need a yes. Don't take on Butterfly McQueens who won't know nuthin bout birthin babies, when the push comes, be your own wet nurse, Man Friday mother, father brother- if you do that, you'll begin to feel a little less afraid, and when that happens put your foot outside the door- and don't look back. A Question Of Taste Hogs head, beef-eaters, mutton, mead and mincemeat pie with raisins, dates and suet when I die I don't wanna go to English heaven, stop me outside at the waiter's bench I wanna spend eternity with the French. One Small Step From Crazy Sometimes I get a word in my head, that sticks, and sticks with such delight I don't know how it got there, only that it's soothing something, acting as a patch. Today it's Choctaw. Choctaw nation. Tribe in Oklahoma. That isn't where it came from shocking as a snow-bloomed rose or something as surprising, it came from PBS and watching a documentary about, of all things, Huey Long. I remember seeing a sign in one of those wonderful old photos of a corner building, sign said Choctaw something or other- and it's stayed with me like music, like it knew it'd pop right out into a poem. The Child Returns El nino, you're like a movie star who doesn't know when to quit -like one of them child stars stuck around for years- keep trottin out them veiny legs and kickin high, long after we thought you'd be tired of it you toss your South Pacific leis and strew us with your icy flowers blooming on northeastern highways -thanks a lot, you tropical snot. On To Page 2 .............. Return To Contents This site sponsered by 
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