comma snowflakes dot the cold air morning
a very fine crystal coating of snow white results
I reduce my size  
the thin veneer of frozen specks
become the size of telephone poles
stacked leaning between my head and the sky
my new world has taken the grey light
to whiteness hinged with blue
that becomes the source of my magic
so, I gaze upon the closed loop wonder
of another imaginary world that is compelled
to be seen by an audience of its own creation


Friday, November 29, 2013

rapt with good fortune
warm, full, exposed to great ideals
excited comfort
plans, so many plans
throw off any thoughts of demise
see the eleven degrees outside
as nothing more than another palpable experience
they say that every drop of reality
is eternal but unable to be reviewed
well, I guess those are my words
now added to all this certainty


Friday, November 29, 2013

the skies are banded with cloud
grey mixed with less grey
snow sits in the tree crotch
and puffs into the air
from the tips of long branches
touched by a draft of wind
underfoot corn flake ice
overhead flies the jay
the earth begins its nap
the air biting cold



Thursday, November 28, 2013

where is the gift that was promised
how could this day ever end
the beads that we fashion
seem strung toward naught
and high ideals confronted
with a very silly reality
where do we go
where was I before birth
how do we live without answers
without a single clue
as if the very stones we tread
were also concerned with their demise



Wednesday, November 27, 2013

under the gun on top of the world
the rhyme and the beat
there’s a stinger out there
there is no easier explanation
as a family of artists behaves
they forge a crystal bent light
as they sleep


Sunday, November 24, 2013

there exists not one solid clue
an absolute zero of evidence
no white feathers floating by
no rising tables encircled
miles of words on the subject of faith, some of the logic very beautiful
the great mystery offers silence only
no hints, no measurements
a complete absence of the rising of the dial

it stems from human feelings alone
feelings that appear constant
throughout time, culture, geography
elaborate obsessions like the dynasties of Egypt
and the kingdoms of clouds, the Andes
to brute Calvinism, the softness of the Tao
the Diets of a thousand years
hammering out the corners of dogma

no philosophy rises above the other
they all result in a head on collision
with silent fact


listen, maybe non-existence isn’t so bad

to stare at wonder is no mistake
in this too large universe
where breath lies below the surface
vision, heartbeat, all the same
it is no great effort to live

time to end the search for design
there is a tingling that calls for change
so now the freedom exists
what to do, where to go
all these questions remain

I bang my hand on the table wood
just to feel, to circulate, to digest
the great mask of the collective world
will fool me no longer, buying time
will envelope a soul, un-touchable

an uncomfortable visitor
many of these ideas lead nowhere
you can scratch at meaning
claw at understanding
in so little time, a blue screen backdrop

accounting for variation
measuring the drift apparent
the suns angles creep lower
the mountains accept their lengthening shadows
certain, wise beyond words such as these


Friday, November 15, 2013

are they real
the glimmers caught at the edge of my eye ?

there is something going on underneath certainty
it is not a place
and transformation has nothing to do with it

at the moment, I am leaning toward
any immense computer simulation
as being the basis for this reality
but, of course, that is the product of my times

place me gently in this same spot, Vermont,
the great North Woods
five hundred years ago
that the world was carried on the back
of an immense turtle
and every hunt would be rewarded in the afterlife
filled with ancestors, devoid of mystery,
these things would also be evident

we are the sum of a gazillion thoughts and influences
we possess nothing


Thursday, November 14, 2013

Laughing way too much
Blake would understand, I'm sure

the Vee Tee hipsters delight
in this ferment, Heady Topper
an unfiltered, uncooked, double hopped whopper
with a can in their hand, they’re a real show stopper

but after the bistro night
your intestinal tract
full of brie and this brew, comes under attack
with gas that must pass, like a well that is fracked

and I know this as fact



Wednesday, November 13, 2013

if comfort is the end by which
we dedicate our means
then our collective conscience
is not at all what it seems
for warmth and full bellies
without altruism bared
is the source of days meaningless
if hidden, not shared


Tuesday, November 12, 2013

the investigation is on going
it would be premature to comment
on how many shots were fired
although that is easily where the inquiry would start

they shoot mentally ill people in the USA
that includes Burlington, Vermont
they shoot mentally ill people in the USA
procedures are in place

the police chief hides behind condescending words
diverting attention from the basic facts
there is no need to shoot someone armed with a shovel
on a calm neighborhood street

the powers know that outrage cannot be sustained
in a world speeding to who knows where
no laws were broken, they shift regularly anyway
hidden on the 10 o’clock news



Friday, November 8, 2013

a gray morning in November
unseasonably warm

once again it is the crows domain
they speak to one another, you know

the wind carries anticipation
the ground seems ready willing and able
to accept the coming snow

yesterday was a rare day
I did not drive my automobile
good news traveled my way

one dry leaf falls
floats on the breeze
****** it before it touches
the earth interrupting
determinism

anxiety stifles happiness
a goal that is realized
in stops and starts
a million jabillion thoughts
each and every day
yet we see ourselves as making rational choices
information overload
any idea what the mistake ratio might be ?


Wednesday, November 6, 2013

from this moment springs

the improbable

our minds

which can soar to anywhere

are all we have

there is no alternative

objective thought

does not count



Tuesday, November 5, 2013

the clear autumn morning
hides nothing from the crow
as the backlit sphere
of the milkweed spore
floats by
tumbling with purpose
take a look
at what fills the air
bird leaf tree debris dust smoke cloud sunbeam
invisible eddies
my intellect


Tuesday, November 5, 2013

now where did that parachute go ?
I like what you did with the house
the staircase with the stenciling
bright ornate table lamps gaudy
but it all fits somehow
I have to get home then to work
then back here again
but I need that chute
Tommy searched a hall closet
found one unfolded and one ready to drop
I’ll sleep on a chair somewhere I thought


Monday, November 4, 2013

as illusions go
the dawn is right up there
along with happiness
it picks a spot
of darkest darkness
beginning to glow
oh so very slow
and calls the birds
to begin their dances


Monday, November 4, 2013

creature comforts
pillowed soul
accomplishments
that hide the goal
set in motion
conniving mind
in merriment
that none will find


Monday, November 4, 2013

looking back
I really did not understand much
of what was delivered to me as my youth
either that or I didn’t listen hard enough
I did not understand the aim behind education and the painful interaction of other children caught as I was
I did not understand the point of religious studies; some of the paintings and statues in church scared the living lick out of me
I did not understand baseball or its plan
I did not understand money or business careers
I did not understand the ways of government; they just commanded everybody, right?
I did not understand the need for war and violence that a loud part of the culture made important and readily available
I did not understand history or the parade of people that came before me and surrounded me
one thing I did understand however
that my parents would accept any forfeit towards my comfort
and that my mother, in particular, would sacrifice her very life for my well being
in that regard I was a bear cub
and what does it mean for a bear cub to understand anything?


Sunday, November 3, 2013

walking out of the liquor store
wine bottles double ******

asphalt concrete curb stone
the great expanse of the universe

the mundane
welded water tight

that Escher print
of ribboned minds

personal accounting
money as abstraction

automobile documents
layers of bureaus

the great and powerful
realm of ideas

shared fallen history
the strike of the pen

ideals ethics
the avoidance of sin

cold is coming
warmth is rare

plug into existential wetness
yet suffer banality



Friday, November 1, 2013

involvement with the scientific method requires an elaborate set of controls where actions and findings can be judged to deliver results in a probability driven system
I am nearly sixty years old
how am I doin’ ?


Friday, November 1, 2013

dreams are powerful antics
grip you from absolutely no where
then they are gone
baby
gone in a flash

let me sleep uninterrupted
the absence of dreams
is a dream itself

if the obscure is important
we’re ******
a total rewiring is required

capacities are misjudged
at only one step
the one in front of you


Friday, November 1, 2013

preempt my tempt
smash the Doric temple
down
spare the others
notice the color of the sky
it is not as you remember
merged that’s what happened
finally influenced
by the sea
an ocean of wood
words fly
the only truth
available
no rhyme reason or snort
yeah
we suffer appointment
while fish
drift lazily
‘neath the sun
innocence returns for one more night
but a long one at that
it might be fun
becoming darkness
the void of being
laughter does have a knack, jack,
of drifting through time
it can be touched


Thursday, October 31, 2013

structure not
nor form nor style
the freedom of these words
mountain mountain mountain still
said the beast toward
assembled masses
of alpine jelly moss
as fast as whom the spectrum chases
to the road past
human
toil
quoted by mother jones
my mother jones
you lost your keys
recently
you will lose a very noisy game


Thursday, October 31, 2013

politicians spout their indignities
as if written accorded discussed
not a normal existence
but some sort of trance
their eyes of blank monitors
shifting yet poised
in love with the camera
the thing that cannot be touched


Thursday, October 31, 2013

he
lost the entire season
a partial
renumbering was proposed
this
organism is
independent of other organisms
Devenport
had a reputation
as
a
psychic


Thursday, October 31, 2013

most folks notice when they’re on a roll
when the file and rank line up squarely
an easy downhill enchants the soul
with whispers that cover logic barely
to present a view of an easy street
while the dark fog curls at your feet
hiding the footed ground of years
while an empty counterbalance cheers


Saturday, October 26, 2013

when roots are free the plant will grow
but no one measures how far it is to go
by earth,
field,
plow stone,
shine,
air,
rain

the mass of a living world remain
an untold mystery behind curt pages
of the driving soul and the spirit wages


Saturday, October 26, 2013

bypass the normal reaction to art very concrete
is usually how it relates very concrete
to the reality that surrounds us very concrete
in very concrete mannerisms
art is free of that announcing
it stands by itself in that brain wave search of nothing
this
for us on how to truly live
that’s where the effort comes in very concrete
the magnificent load of work
it takes to be abstraction sets an example alive
successful to none very concrete by itself
a strong feeling of self


Saturday, October 26, 2013

an alter ego I’ll invent
a handsome know it all agent
to whim and parry the low event
and explain the thought I really meant
it was so here then there it went
settled under the Sheik of Arabia’s tent
in desert camp under the firmament



Saturday, October 26, 2013

lets contemplate great deeds for a moment
the tower of ideas, empty without action
acclaimed thought, twisted word frames
leadership, in free fall without disciples
stone monuments, covered with rain
social contracts, swallowed by flaws
the birth of the new, the turning of the world

Saturday, October 26, 2013

there in the crawlspace
they found me
drugged and *****
they pulled and tugged
spoke their plans
to help deliver sobriety
change my outlook
toward the better
I resisted
any idea seemed as hopeless
as no plan at all
that was my comfort
my morning joe
how many times
must this be said
my days can be lived
by one way only
aimed at the end

Saturday, October 26, 2013

it was the corruption that caused the social upheaval
in this nation
not the correct response of an increase in cynicism
of the populace
toward institutions that serve only themselves


most people I know just want to have a family, a home, and eager to work for these things, a job that is meaningful and offers respect and as much challenge as the individual can handle and then the employee repays that respect in delivering it to the outside world everyday
the result would be a better world

while you were busy searching for clues
its all about issues that should be avoided
brute blood against certain things
that cannot be touched
he went up to a reading-desk
which was there in the field
the conflict deserved understanding
this involved a portion of toil
now see to it that you return to line one


jimmy tee
Monday, October 21, 2013

sophists got empire
under
an eternal shower
of frost ice
the tired centaurs
continue to opinion
and fear their instruct

useless, ineffective  

is near over




jimmy tee
Monday, October 21, 2013

write a love poem and do it in a hurry
mention summer afternoons
in the garden
make some comparisons between flowers
and the fresh air that surrounds them
to the light in your lovers eye
bring up time and its eternity
if amends need to be manufactured
then and only then declare weakness
consult Keats for a mythic touch
search your heart, share secrets, invent

the lack of negatives
do not necessarily equal a positive

there was a point in this traveling medicine show
where the first person context was to be ignored
so poems covered all and we replaced I
but the ego spread through the cracks
like spilt water seeping under a closed door
the lack of a threshold
and it was impossible to resist the search for human meaning without mentioning myself in most ******* everything
I suppose it was weakness but then hey there goes the whole process all over again
we are nothing but deep
what I am saying here is that our deepness is without end
and defines eternity ‘bout better than anything else

the workmen never really rest
for every day at their bequest
they surrender dreams, for the sake of the nest
and a shadow, a sense, of meaningless jest


Saturday, October 19, 2013

security
insurance
back bitten
scowl
of cruelty
the look
of people
telling
you
what you
want
to hear
the world
as opera
sing
the sing
song
breast
of appeasement
mans finest
quality


Saturday, October 19, 2013

as I am haunted by the past
and know that this is twisted
by far desire that pounds away
as if anything existed


Friday, October 18, 2013

a wall as metaphor fits the bill
to these thoughts ***** nil
a massive wall near six feet wide
covered with sharp stucco side
that ****** pierces the forehead skin
as heads bang in a continuous whim
for tell me what is a reality for
when breath and bone are felt no more

Saturday, October 19, 2013

a wall as metaphor fits the bill
to these thoughts ***** nil
a massive wall near six feet wide
covered with sharp stucco side
that ****** pierces the forehead skin
as heads bang in a continuous whim
for tell me what is a reality for
when breath and bone are felt no more

Saturday, October 19, 2013

the sky would burn and the sea would boil
as they paid the price for human toil
a spinning globe a pitch gray sky
could absorb our poisons indefinitely
so the earth as friend became our foe
with a scrum of chemistry and below
the mass of souls behind gilded screening
search every toy for a scrap of meaning

reality is re-constructed
from scratch
every 5 or 6 minutes or so
how many times have you
lost something
oh, carkeys, that screwdriver
that fell to the shadows
the printed report that was just in that ******* pile just a minute ago
those instances are only slight faux pa  ses
by the re-construction crews
that toil in every medium
to create authenticity

heard a gun shot at 2:51 am in the most quiet neighborhood in Vermont

listen, I cant tell her that

it is a very easy thing to steer in and out of her desires
as clear as a new paved highway
in the glare of my high beams
what of it

when young, I read Thoreau
the transcendentalists were but gone
by slightly over a century
disobedience was in style
we would all head toward the land
and live in the wood
soybeans simmering on the stove
as we headed toward a dream
the pull of the world
a force so very strong
as to last throughout the ages
interrupted our free fall
so when I would consult the mind of Walden
through his writings
there burned in me a sense of radicalism
to head to the forest, naked with poetry
I told myself I could not afford these steps
recognized that Thoreau’s considerations
were so true as to be dangerous
I set the sage aside
I am sure that sages expect that sort of behavior

soon after my 50th year in my personal limerick
I found myself looking at a summer morn…..

the gods and their stories

where as under neath the reality flows

a swirling un mass of possibilities

everything lies beneath everything else

there is sometime interferences

between the separate actualities

this reality, that reality, hardy har har har

the same questions would exist

Poe wrote of glory and grandeur of the antiques

they were a bunch of misfits

the wind swirls in tight circles
sunshine actually flows
clouds may appear to move
but in actuality they are constantly
disappearing and reappearing
over their entire width and breadth
raindrops fall as spheres
seasons change at their own pace
air pressure is remarkably consistent
snow is frozen vapor
it skips over the liquid phase
if you could hop in your car
and drive 60 mph straight up
you would reach the extent of atmosphere
where weather occurs
so, a calm, sun filled early morning in October
is even more of a miracle than some would suggest



Friday, October 11, 2013

a pig in a poke
a pie in the sky
the race to the swift
and an eye for an eye
what goes will come
the old college try
a bird in the hand
a sacrifice fly
quick on the draw
Boston cream pie
salt in a wound
sleeping dogs lie
death warmed over
another wise guy
lay down the law
Friday fish fry
carrot and stick
deny deny deny
smell the coffee
the cups bone dry
walk on egg shells
the long goodbye
off your rocker
semi semi-dry
a kangaroo court
a private eye
fingers crossed
Captain Bligh
a list of idioms
then a rhyme with ‘I’

this is what must be done
great changes are coming
put down the news
turn off the **** tube
sip coffee and think