Mountain Men

Some people like many mountains all around
So they can keep climbing up and down
I like to stay down on the ground
And watch my wheels going 'round and 'round

When they get to the the top of this mountain here
They stand and look at that mountain there
Then they climb to the top of that mountain there
To look back at this mountain here

Then they call this mountain here
'That mountain over there'

And so it goes everywhere
Nobody really knows if they're here or there
Yes so it goes everywhere, nobody really knows
If they're here or there.

Sean Hunt
.....somewhere in Spain March 2015

In the bowels
Of my being
The things I've seen!

Jerome Taheny says
That the word
'Unfindability'
Sparks
His imagination

I wonder why
Jerome
Likes my word
'Unfindable'
Seems absurd!

I'll bite my tongue
And protect
Others
From
My teeth

Lama Leonard
Sing me a song again,
Before your life is over
Before you leave the stage and dive
Down below the clover
Before you reap the seeds you sowed
The wild world over
Between the alphas and the omegas
In bawdry nights inside bodegas


Lama Leonard listen to  
My song before you go
I've listened to yours since sixty eight
And now it's getting late
Ukulele days are numbered now
I  finally found my key
I'd like to know,  before I go,
You listened once to me

Sean Hunt  2013

My words
Come
From where
The clouds
Come from

From where
Come
My words
And all my
Wild ideas?

Another day,
Today,
Now
What do I have
To say?

I was mothered by
A *** slave
And a servant
She never had
A life of her own

She was
Crippled
By Irish
Catholic
Crap

He taught me much,
All that he knew
Of poetry
And misogyny
I am still
Extricating myself
From silly
Inherited habits

No wonder
I live alone!
All the women
Have known
In their bones

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 22 2016

Maybe poetry
Permits us some
Mastery
Of the wild
World of words

We can control
The chaos
The cacophony
Rein in our
Tendency
To
Absent-mindededly
Cantor
And rant

Control the flow
Make some sense
Of the non sense

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 21 2016

Nothing is new
Under the sun
Our realizations
Come one by one

Inside my smoke
You couldn't find me
In all of your mirrors
You could not be seen

You didn't find me
I didn't see you
We came to the same
Conclusions

I was looking for someone who just wasn't there
The truth is you couldn't be found anywhere
Smoke and mirrors. we play the same game
Though we both call it by different names

Nothing is new
Under the sun
Our realizations
Come one by one

The script that was written
Was perfect for you
Your acting was easy
Nothing was new

When the shooting was over
And the movie was done
You stopped playing the part
But kept wearing the gun

I was looking for someone who just wasn't there
The truth is you wouldn't be found anywhere
Smoke and mirrors. we play the same game
Though we both call it by different names

Nothing is new
Under the sun
Our realizations
Come one by one

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 20 2016

Dream Of Yesterday    

How is your dream of  yesterday
Is it running away with you again?                                
Are you dropping the reins, drifting away,
How is your dream of yesterday?

Are you remembering dreams of another day
Trying so hard to rewrite the play
Reading reviews of yesterday's news
How is your dream of yesterday?  

Are you chasing the shadows in your show  
First they come and then they go      
Watching them all night and day
Believing what they say  

Where were you when she went away
Do you remember your dream that  day?
You didn't know her shadow would go
It walked right out of your show  

Sean Hunt   2016

Most of  the time
We have no eyes to see
Nor ears to hear
The world
Surrounding us,
The cacophony

We are bullied
And bruised
By blinders
Unwittingly fitted
By our many minders

Watch out
For willow trees
Through the day
Sit under one
And break away

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 19 2016

I had a 'big swallow'
And it almost
Swallowed me

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 17 2016

What I want
Is freedom
From fear
For
Ever
More

Sean Hunt

Jan 17, Windermere

This is "The story of Me"
The person
You think that you see
Please
Try to find me
The person you think you see
Please, try to find me

Turn the world upside down
Look all around
The person you think you know
Who puts on a show
Slips through your hand
Like grains of sand
Like dust on the floor
Swept out the door
The ephemeral glow
Of an old rainbow
Some moments of sun
And all is undone

I was never here
Now let 'me' dis appear
I grasp at my self
Like beauty and wealth
As if they were real
As if they were true
I grasp at me
I grasp at you

I am only a name
I know this game
And every  thing
Is just the same
I know this game
I am only a name
And every thing
Is just the same
I know this game

Sean Hunt  
Windermere 2015

Watch my poem start
Without a theme

As I wonder where
The words will come from

And what they will mean

Maybe one thing for you
Another for me

Maybe nothing for some
And something for

A 'Fortunate One'

Sean Hunt  
Windermere
Easter Sunday 2015

The light is clear
Your eyes and ears
Don't see or hear a thing

Your mind will know
No where to go
No thing you have to bring

Now the funeral of youth
You focus on the truth
Of every single thing

No more roll, no more rock
Leave the starting block
This song you now must sing

Sean Hunt
Windermere 2015, November

It's about me
Not about you
Or what you do

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 16 2015

Like a telly weather presenter
You have given
A perfect representation
Of bittersweet Britishness,
My good friend, Keith!  

I love many things about England
But the bittersweetness
Of the weather
Is not one of them  

My ideal climate
would be the same temperature
every day, all day
and all night,
all year long
  
The moon would have to become
Sun-like during the night;  
Then I would be perfectly content
(with the weather)  

The weather would stop being
Such a persistent
And consistent
Topic of conversation
And question of commentary,
On whether it was fine or not

The climate in question
Does not exist
Here on planet earth

Sean Hunt
Windermere, January 16 2016

a psychotic word salad
shotgun streamed
for all to see

You see an inanimate me,
Frozen in time,
Don't believe this subtle deception.
Focus well, my friend.
Watch the form of my face change
Ever so slowly.
In the ground of the coin
Surrounding me
I swim in a sea of minted metal
I walk through a landscape world
Breathing silver air
A regal persona
Looking like
A permanent phenomenon.
But I am not!
This is a lie!
I am worthless tender
On earth.
I am only a minted man
Don't pay me much attention
I'll melt away, one day
I am the coin,
The coin is me.
Now do you see
Who I am not?

Sean Hunt  
Windermere  2015

There's a reason, there's a rhyme
Behind the pantomime
I see something behind the scene
Do you know what I mean
Don't  fly too high, or fall too low
One thing you must know, it's all a shadow show

Nothing's the way that it seems
Just try to find me, and every thing you see
Turn every thing upside down
In the country and the town
Don't believe your eyes, they only tell lies
That goes for you, and me, and every thing we see

Nothing's the way that it seems
Even the dreamer is dreamed

Try to touch the things you see, try to touch me
In the end you'll be staring at air, because there's nothing out there
Human confusion we see, don't believe your dream
It's human confusion we see, don't believe your dream

Nothing's the way that it seems
Even the dreamer is dreamed

There's a reason, there's a rhyme
Behind the pantomime
I see something behind the scene
Do you know what I mean?
Sean Hunt
Windermere  Jan 13 2016

Sarah last wrote a poem
Around  New Year's Eve
I wonder where her poems are
They seem to have drifted
Very far
She has not been seen
Nor her words heard
Around the world
As they were
Last Year
I hope muteness is not
Her New Year's resolution
As a solution
To something
I wonder how is Sarah
The angry Poet
And how are the men
At the end of her pen

Sean Hunt
Jan 9, 2016 Windermere

I know some friends consider me
To be a dour dharma dude
That's ok because
As they say
Each to their own food
Or wine
Or entertainment  time
And their own rules
For love and hate
Of every thing
Like my silly little rhyme

One look in a clean mirror
Can give me such a fright
If all I saw were me
Out there
What a horrid sight!
That would be,
If all I could see is me!

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 7 2016

WE ARE ALL REFUGEES    2

We're not laughing when we're born
Or when we die,
We mourn and we cry
When we're born and when we die,
Yes, we mourn and we cry,
When we're born and when we die

We are all refugees running across  the Sea.
Everyone is running,
You, and me,
Trying to find a place
That's safe, and secure,
Where the air and the  water
And the people are pure,  

We keep on running away,
From every thing that causes pain,
Yes, we keep on running away,
From every thing that causes pain

We're not laughing when we're born
Or when we die,
We mourn and we cry
When we're born and when we die,
Yes, we mourn and we cry,
When we're born and when we die

In between we laugh a lot,
Sitting in the sand
By the sea of reality,
Surfing waves when they come,
One by one,  when they come,
On the sea of reality..
Every day we play,
And we surf on the waves,
In the Sea Of Reality.

On the beach, as we go, we should know,
Underneath there's an  undertow.  
On the sea, as we go, we should know,
Underneath, there's an undertow.
Down below, an undertow,
We should know.  

Sean Hunt
Windermere January 7th 2016

Why do I find your beauty
Painful,
Hanna May
Even your name
Can bite me
Just a little bit?

It's all about me
And not about you
I'm watching waves
With some wisdom
When they come
Rolling in
Because I know
There's an undertow

Yes, I know
There's an undertow

Sean Hunt
Windermere January 5th 2016

We are all Perpetual Refugees
Crossing the perilous Sea
Of Reality

Do we laugh when we are born?
Do we laugh when we die?

We do laugh in between
While we play in the waves
In the constantly changing Sea
Of Reality

Every day we play
And we surf
Those dangerous waves
In the constantly changing Sea
Of Reality

Though we should really know
And pay attention to
The undertow

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 4th 2016

There is a weird
And not so wonderful fetish
Particularly British
Common
Amongst commoners
In the United Kingdom

Although the aristocracy
And royalty
Are seen by all
With eyes to see
To have behaved
Abominally
Tortured and twisted
Enslaved, enchained
*****, re-shaped
With bloodstained hands
The entire planet

Sending ordinary
More innocent
English men
To do their ***** work
Their dastardly
Disastrous deeds
As slaves of knaves

Through common British eyes
These horrible people
Are placed high upon
Holy pedestals
Romanticized
Idealized, Idolized
Canonized

Perhaps there's some
Vicarious thrill
Exercising
Enforcing
Power and evil will?

But the hand no pleasure gets
When, through rubbing, wets itself!

Sean Hunt
Windermere January 1st 2016

The noisy
Burp-filled
Extravaganza,
The fiesta
Of drama
And dance
And drink

It will not come again
For a few moments
For some

For others
For an infinity of
Unwanted moments

For others
It will not come along
Because they will be gone

For those who are blind
Like me
It will pass unseen

Sean Hunt
Jan 1st 2016 Windermere

Where is 'New Year'
Now?
Where was it then,
When in happened
It went so fast
It didn't last long
And we can't
Remember it now
Anyhow

It didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye

What's it all about
A burp and a shout
A wonderland
******* wish
For all to be well
With everyone
Measurably
Better than the past

That didn't last
Long enough
For a song
Or a sigh
Or to say hello
Or goodbye

Sean Hunt
Windermere
12:00 am January 1st 2015
New Year's Day

Not easily found
The figure is hidden
In ground
The bell and it's sound
The mind and the body
Me and humanity
The gold and the coin
The sky and it's blue
Your universe
And you

Sean Hunt
Windermere Dec 31st 2015

Even my mind
Is mere appearance
To my mind

There have been a few things
I've been trying to find
That keep on appearing
To my mind

You
And me
And everything we see
Will be found unfindable
By you and by me

If I look for my house
Within it's parts
Start with the roof?
Then set it apart
And now the walls
Set them apart too.
Now the heart of the matter
The last resort
Maybe the floor
(Or the front door)
Now where is my house
Seen by me
And by you?

That house where I live
We will both find
Only exists
Inside my mind

And even my mind
Is mere appearance
To my mind

Sean Hunt
Windermere December 30 2015

Both of our truths shine
Equally bright
In the light of day
And in the darker light
Of the moon
At night

Some people know
The easier truth
Some of the time;
This truth,
Though easily known
Is oft forgotten
Right away
Not lasting the day

The other truth
Not obscured
Is never known
By the minds of youth
It needs a more steady mind
To find the flame
Then to keep it alight
Day and night

Sean Hunt
Windermere Dec 27 2015

I'm Never Alone

I'm never alone, there's always someone there
To walk with, to talk to, to breathe the same air

In town or in country, I'm in good company
Because I always, bring along me

I always see me!  Wherever I go
I'm not on my own, there's someone I know

He's never a bore, though sometimes a chore
Can talk up a tempest, can talk up a storm

Once in a while, he may disappear
But then in a moment, he will reappear

Sometimes he gives me, such a fright,
When I wake up, in the middle of the night

It may take a moment,  a moment or two
Before he awakes, and I'm wondering: “Who

It is in my bed, all by himself
Grasping and searching, for his lifebelt

Those moments are rare, when there's nobody there
To walk with, to talk to, to breathe the same air

Sean Hunt
Windermere, Dec 26 2015

We see
What we want to see
We see who we want
To See

Even if
I wanted to
I couldn't see you
Because
There is no you
To see

This is the Mystery
Of you
And me

We dream at night
And in the daylight
As long as we know,
Every thing is alright

This is the Mystery
Of you
And me

Sean Hunt
Windermere, Dec 26th 2015

Guru Haiku
A great man lived, died----
and lived, so they say,
and lives on in human hearts.

My daytime dream was dark
And  difficult
Little luck
Lots of struggling
Pervasive frustration
And a sense of subtle
Irritation

Murky air,
Everywhere
At every turn
A dead end
Or a circlular
One-way bypass
For my desired destination

I was trying to arrange
Things,
Organizing
Circumstances
To my best advantage.

Then I began to consider
My dream world friends
Instead of taking care of me
I started taking care of them

Those around me,
The other actors in my movie
What do they need?
What would they want

Because it was a dream
I could give them anything
Rearrange their world
Let their bells ring

And we all began to sing

Sean Hunt
Windermere Dec 24 2015

Dance with that
Momentary Man
As long as he'll let you
As long as you can
Dance 'til your very last breath
With The Lord of The Dance
The Lord of Death

Sean Hunt
Windermere Dec 24 2015

The face is a most
Important place
Not only is it where we
May display adverts
And worse,
To be read by others
(Mostly mischevious spin)
It is where the five
Sense doors open,
Sight, sound, smell,
Taste and touch
There isn't much more
To talk about

The rest of the body
Is only a sense door
The face has many more receptors
Feeding the greedy
And ravenous mind
With waterfalls
Of information
About
The outside world
Most of which is wrong

Sean Hunt  
Windermere April 2015

Do you have a little bit
Of garlic in your ***
Still behaving ordinary
Though you know you're not
When will you clean up the bits
Of garlic that you've got?
A lingering aroma
Will be all that's left
When you finally finish
Cleaning your ***


Sean Hunt
Windermere, October 27, 2015

Do not be distracted by clouds
They look and act so loud
They fill the stage
They rant and rage and pout
And put on a show
That we could do without

Behind the clouds
Is still and peaceful space
Brightness and blue
Room for all
A delightful view
For me and you

If the clouds are few
The vastness of the sky
Shines through
Otherwise
Space is displaced, replaced
Covered up
By a cumulus queue

Sean Hunt
2015

The man from the east
Had so much to say
And it stays in our minds
Until today

“It's all about them
It's not about me;
Don't believe what you hear
Don't believe what you see”

We dream through the night
We dream though the day
Under sun or moon
We see the same way

Sean Hunt
Windermere, Xmas 2015

Ferry Christmas

There is no snow
Now 'tis the season
To get a little wet
Why are Brits surprised
When they're
Up to their eyes
In water?

When we weigh in stones
And drive on the wrong
Side of the road
Why wouldn't abodes
Begin to float?

We foreign men
Have seen some signs
We're not surprised
By what we see
In the Queen's country

The land's a little low,
And a little high
Are the lakes and sea.
There doesn't seem to me
Much mystery.

Ferry Christmas!
If the sea surrounds us all
It'll be 'The Life of Pi'
When we have to abandon
This English atoll

Sean Hunt
Windermere Xmas 2015

My most meaningful
Creator
Of nothing
Teacher about
How
Nothing can be found
Heard, yes
Seen, no
Found, no
Not here, not there
Not on the ground
Not in the air
Never found
Anywhere
I speak of sound

Sean Hunt
Windermere October 1st 2015

I appreciate your kindness
And attention
Giving me a moment or two
Of your precious time.

I will try to make this meaningful for you.
I will not say too much,
I will try to say just enough.

I used to use so many words
That none were heard.

Like olives,
Or a piece of cheese,
Like any delicacy,
Less is enough,
Washed down
By Ale that's brown,
Or wine that's fine.

Sean Hunt
Windermere July 2015

Peeping Tom
Surfs the virtual world
In an hour he can be
In over a hundred countries
What does he see?

He sees what they want him to see
He thinks he is free
To choose
But he needs to know that he is used
And abused by political puppeteers
Behind the scenes
Market-share-mad merchandisers
Twisting his arm
Elbowing him
Standing in his way
Shouting in his ear
They know exactly how to get his attention
They titillate
Create fear, desire, frustration
They only show a bit of it
A *** or two
Always something new

They make the waves
That Tom rides
They make them high
They make them long
He thinks they come from the sea, naturally
But Tom is wrong
They are man-made waves

They have him in their computer,
In their long range plan
They watch his every move
Give it to data-entry
Then to oceanography
Where they play
With the waves
That he will ride day after day,
Thinking he is free,
All alone on the sea

Sean Hunt     Windermere  July 2015

SO WHAT!  
or  Ode to Uncle Chuck

"So what"....growled uncle Chuck
(Charles O'Malley)
When he'd had enough.
His almost predictable
Dissertation time
Had arrived.
His succinct
Oratorial
Platitude
Delivered
With attitude
Usually somewhere between
Three and four
O'Keefes in the morning.
Only he knew
The content of his
Hypothesis
He would only reveal
The title.
Keeping his thesis
Secret.

Korsakoff
Perhaps had a more
Intimate relationship
With Uncle Chuck.
Maybe he knew
What Chuck meant
When he said
"So what!"

Sean Hunt
Windermere, 2014

Some themes are easily seen
Others?
One can spend a life
Deciphering
And die before
Discovering
That the theme was
'The absence 
Of a theme'

I sometimes
Find my mind
Rumbling
With early tremors
Of rage
When listening to 
Some silly songs
Wishing to heaven
That the theme were 
Absent

Sean Hunt 
Windermere Easter 2015