Long Uneasily Poems
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Now quiet, settled, easy, leisurely
through life’s affairs,—say, couched in everyday—
and sipping being’s sweetest, freshest ray;
Sunshine!, Sunshine! ‘midst winter’s coldest glee!
Now troubled, disjointed, uneasily
fumbling, scrambling through dumb frowning time.—Gray-
-haired night’s murk weighs down gay light’s mirth filled play...—
tumbling through summer’s scorching cruelty!
An inescapable alternation
of gloom and cheer,(to be—and—not to be),
wheeling circles and cycles—infernal,—
recur, relapse, return through all creation.;
Remember, though pain’s but temporary,
vacuous suffering is eternal.
It was October, the leaves fell,
I reveled in my youth.
But what happened in sixty-two
took the fun and
innocence out of autumn;
There were missiles in Cuba.
Missiles,with more on the way.
Warnings were given,
demands and threats made.
At thirteen I learned
the meaning of a naval blockade.
Grown-ups spoke in hushed tones
over hastily brewed coffee,
eyes and ears glued
to the television for the latest news.
We went to bed and slept uneasily,
not knowing what kind of world
we would wake up to,
if we woke up at all.
Two giants, swords drawn,
faced each other
in a battle of wills.
The great bear blinked
and we stepped back
from the abyss
that nearly swallowed
an anxious world.
It was October, the leaves fell,
somehow I felt much older.
Sighs, and the unsmiling scarred summer skies,
Stealthily, behind the invisible window
Broken into particles,a soul uneasily dies
In that familiar place. Be away. Oh go!
Anticipating that no one is there
But those moments that again I see
The surprised, longing eyes, the smile so fair,
You cheated me..You cheated me.
New watchpersons year by year are employed
But your footprints here I still see
Because some things cannot be destroyed
You cheated me..You cheated me.
Within the unobstrusive silence I am found,
In familiar inertia the escape is neat,
The weary feet again homeward bound
I cheat. I cheat. I cheat.
June 1, 2018
Form:
(In the late Middle Ages, the people
of the Spanish village of Fuente
Ovejuna rose up spontaneously and
killed their cruel overlord.)
No, there were no words.
Nobody seduced the villagers
with, "What Is To Be Done?"
No-one came with drums
to smite the heart
and pummel the Pueblo walls.
Best call it a communal twitch,
a spasm in the Pueblo soul.
Nothing seized us, entered into us.
More accurately, something went.
We seemed to have mislaid ourselves awhile.
Of the doers, who shall abide the deed?
None recalls the doing.
What can it be likened to?
Falling down a wellshaft?
Oppressive closeness,
voices that were all torque.
When we returned,
ugly sunlight had transformed The Thing
into a thing more prosaic.
The village was itself again.
But It had lost Its head.
People (we were plural once again)
were still as corpses.
Someone said, without conviction,
"Tyranny is dead".
A throat was cleared.
It didn't look like Tyranny.
It just looked uncomfortable
where it lay, contorted.
Some of them spat and shuffled off,
some just stood uneasily,
impressed at their own embarrassment.
Dark thunderclouds hover uneasily
over the red mesas and arroyos.
I can feel the tingling sensation of
charged air, an unnatural quiet
as the thick, humid air seems to
catch its breath, anticipating.
Suddenly the landscape is overwhelmed
by electric white veins of lightening
that flash and spread like roots
shooting down towards the desert floor.
Urgent rumblings reverberate
under my feet as I anticipate
the loud claps of thunder to follow.
Large, beaded raindrops, lukewarm
begin to drop steadily onto the dry
dusty terrain, marking the sandy soil
causing plants to rise up like
excited exclamation points.
I savor the moment, relishing
in the wonder of nature's drama
admiring the intense power I see
feeling reinvigorated and renewed
in body, mind, soul and spirit.
Written on 8/10/2016
It is a sanctuary of stillness here
muted sounds of nature prevail
a rustle of leaves, a scurrying of rodents
flutterings of birds flying and chirping.
Peaceful it may seem, and yet...
I have dwelt here, uneasily, year after year
hard pressed to escape my confinement
tormented by nightmares
tragedy without resolution.
A new day dawns, much like any other
I become aware of strange, new sounds
sounds I have not heard for a long while
a scraping of shovels, scraping, digging
digging and scraping up dirt full of hope.
I tremble in anticipation for this moment
this moment I have dreamt about
in my eternal sleep..could this truly be
the day of my release?
Oh Lord, I can see the sunlight now
for at long last, I have been found
justice has finally prevailed
today...I have been set free!
Written on 3/6/2019
I could change my mind
about adopting you
no more than change my heart's content
about what is healthy
and what is diseased absence of integrity
and what lies somewhat uneasily in-between
within my contenting patient bicameral mind.
ProActive adoption
healthing my ego's affluent hope-filled exploration
and our ecohabitat's effluent nutritional transliterations,
discerning communions
composed of conflicted, fragmented people,
adopting/adapting our weeds and edible and ornamental resources,
our Earth motherland planetary spaces
revolving DNA fractal interdependent deep learning memories--
noticing-understanding
planning-planting
implementing-governing-harvesting
evaluating-digesting
noticing positive and negative changes,
healthy and pathological,
winning and losing interdependent health and fragmenting pathologies
Adopting adaptive changes of holonic universal WinWin
becoming light and dualdark
co-passioning bright left
with bilateral co-arising intuitive felt right
for here and now
Adoption works best
when cooperatively intended
for mutual WinWin benefit,
for both internal ego needs
and external-ecotherapeutic feeling climates, internalized humanely
healthy wealth of long-term dynamic interdependent resilience.
Adoption, whether co-gravitating with a child,
or a habitat,
or a healthy-wealth intentional good-faith
active hope
interdependently webbing community,
is informed by our transubstantiated history
of co-acclimating reunion experiences,
mental and physical,
spiritual and natural
EarthTribe egos
adopting Earth-transformative healthing souls/soils,
DNA adaptive across regenerational wealth,
non-sectarian holonic habitats,
non-dualistic,
non-violently interdependent,
so not just business as usual LeftBrain fragmentary,
fragmenting.
I could change my left deductive/reductive affluent mind
about co-acclimating with you
no more than change my heart's Earth-righteously effluent content
about what is healthy
and what is diseased
for all humanity's meaning-full healthy climates,
purposeful interdependent and fragmenting moods,
thoughts,
needs,
feelings
flowing somewhat uneasily
within our ego-contenting in-between eco-passionate
EarthJustice informed/exflowing mind.
Twenty-twenty, why didn't you abide
by centuries-old rules required to exist?
Why was it prudent to run and then hide;
protocol, you felt, was there to resist
Painfully we hid and Earth hung her head,
as Covid invaded, flaunting with flair.
Breath came uneasily, many were dead;
no place to hide, fear was filling the air.
A terrible legacy your year leaves,
standing with famine, flu, polio's fears.
We shook ourselves from depression and grief,
buried our loved ones, dried most of our tears.
So, Twenty-One, what good news do you say?
Can we, at last, turn that chapter's sad page,
come out of hiding to sunshine and play?
Wait--Delta is shouting, "I want the stage!"
Move over, climate, our allies won't mind.
Refugees, craziness, anti-vax scam,
egotism, lies, hate everywhere we find
I'm beginning to see why Twenty ran.
We have no sabbath sense
deep enough
wet enough
searching baptismally enough
for Earth's oceanic atmosphere.
Sabbath is for monotheistic cities
and castled lands
we anthro-supremacist share
to weekday busyness hold them
six weakly orthodox dry days per week
On lands we sell ourselves
to uneasily rest
deeply contest
land-based sixes
and sacred sevens
Crowding human over-splattered population
huddling beneath self-mattered desecrated sabbaths
longing to land-based rabid breed
deeper nourished oceanic sacramentals
higher flourished seasoned ornamentals.
Over these past several seasick years
Sunday crawls back toward Atlantic's western shore,
border stretch of dry as lustless dust
then wet love-drenched sand
leading out to ocean's deep sustaining
Atlantis-Pacific round wet sabbath
Populated more and more
by all-consuming human barging desecration,
I notice my slowly growing urge
to run then walk then swim to float away
from continental fractured unrest
Compelled to seek a cooler wetter nest
where sabbaths still speak sea-psalm gullibly
in bygone blissful birdsongs
swaying surging suds
of soulfully submerging
saliently surfing
salty sacramental tears
reviving EarthPacific SunDays.
I saw her lovely face in the window daily While I was going to the college swiftly After seeing the beautiful moon lively
My hero cycle had become k a bike really.
Reached the college campus very quickly. But I was not able to forget the angel suddenly. I tried to read the English textbook simply The flower blossomed in the page only.
I waited for the college over impatiently. I took the cycle and rode it immediately. The bird perched in the same place patiently. It saw me and waved it's wings speedily
Had seen the star only one time a day seriously There was no chance to see the comet again easily The girl was in the dreams and everything lovely. I never forgot that particular day uneasily.
It was November fourteen,children's day humbly When I came near her house slowly My dream doll stood there silently
She was only a little lamb closely
And not a matured mare definitely The sweet box gave me a chocolate box wholly. My life long dreams were shattered highly. Like the last scene of Mckenna's gold film fully.