It is an easy enough thing
To prove: a man is not here
When he is gone: Whither
The wind.  The same may
Well be said of all points
Along his passage.  So brief
Now and here is its kin and
Equally likely to wander.  
Tight or loose tautologies do
Not stay the ship our departure
But there is more for we would
Linger yet captain still of every
Crossing seeking what will be
No matter what the whether-
It too shall pass as a certainty
Between now and then i am.





While Reading Conrad's "The
Mirror of the Sea"

Love some one as you once
Loved me.  You cannot- of
Your first love I speak but if
You do you will be young
Again and I too shall also be as
One transformed-all in the blink
Of an eye.  Come my love
Do not mock me as I am now
Re make me and this old world
Say you love me as I love you
If far we have traveled from then
Has as not pain the measure been
Of moments  that are half dark as
Planet turns  and turns till it must
Return.  So long long time goes by
But still youth's memory holds us
Fast in a darkness but half lit by the
Hope of joy- till the circle closes and
When its done it will seem a dream
That was never meant to be- gone
Without remembrance gone in the
Twinkling  of an eye when you say
I love you as you love me and love
Unchanged makes all things new.

For Liss My Beloved

If we should be what we are not
If we should do what we should
Not?  Well it will not go very well
With you and your children to be.
Hell my little ones is  a perpetual
Self-doubt that one may have under-
Estimated one's guilt combined in
A pride that one has been clever
Enough to think so and can re-
Calculate accurately enough to
To repent adequately and so gain
The righteousness of the good life
Here and salvation in the hereafter.
If only in the wonderful relief that
Comes to one who relenting from
Banging his head against the earth
It does seem so-but wait a moment
But a fraction relieved the sinner
Returns to the grind anxious that
He Has backslid.  Children I tell
You none of this real and will never
Happen but in your imagination-
You are good my obedient children
Trust me I would not tell you  if it
Were not so and about such things
I do not change my mind.  Your
Imagination may still play tricks on
You but this shall be forgotten  in
Eternity  Now go and play in the
Garden where my love is ever with
You and nothing can ever hurt you.

History is ever a relocation of all we
Knew before- know now then felt we
Must demonstrate-that we do know
What we always knew-Of such are
Civilizations.  But there is a riddle in
That knowing itself that it contains a
Paradox-that embraces its antithesis
That we do not know; cannot know
Ever.  For we are the nothing of the
Universe-less than dust that is every
Where.  Tell me this ye wise men does
The horizon fall below or rise above the
Sphere of your line of sight.  There must
Be another place as my friend the dream
Librarian said to me in honest puzzlement


For Eddy-you were right
...

You cannot hold life,
Only a little then
It starts to squirm.  After
All love is free.  Time goes
by and nothing happens
This is peace.  We barely
Notice. ( till its gone) the
Flowers growing wild
On the way home.

Upon entering the microscopic
World one does not immediately
Forget what it is to walk a mile
But when there is no knowable
Way back one soon looks with
Greater interest on what there is
To notice-a whole other world.
How you got there is a mystery;
How you will  ever leave another
Mystery.  This too shall pass and
Every new thing is the beginning
and the end of the love for what is.
Now passes thru what now is.

When the victory is just to
Survive-no matter that the
Future beyond is realistically
Bleak.  That is not the question
Perhaps it never was-Still to
Be is the triumph always is.
The promise of better things
To come is to be still.