Questioning

The exercise this week relates to the poetic foot the dactyl, which is basically a stressed syllable followed by two unstressed ones. A typical waltz pattern, you could say. Here’s the example I used, with successive stanzas in dactylic monometer, dimeter, trimeter, tetrameter, pentameter and hexameter.

Listening
carefully:
wondering,
wandering —
what is the
reason for
being a
questioner?

There can be questions that
tear at the fabric of
what seems so vital and
yet is not meaningful.

Knowing these queries can lead to the
answers, but only if asked with a passionate
selflessness, without an ultimate
motive or reason for seeking them.

That makes the seeking out answers more perilous;
often it leads to a crisis of temperment:
peace is oft lost in the battle for dominance,
forcing your hand as you make your way traveling.

Once in a while, though, the pathway is stunningly beautiful,
filled with an essence of wonder that speaks quite unconsciously.
These moments, glimpses of possible, reachable paradise
Give us the courage to press on in spite of our maladies.

Courage is needed for much of the journey to find out our destiny,
bravery wrought from the stuff we think commonplace, meaningless wandering.
Beautiful, gossamer dreams that as children we thought were reality:
These are the valuable ores that construct a world we find worth living in.

17 JAN 2005

Share This:

On Reaching Forty in a Week

In a week I will be forty. If my mother’s right
it’s time to get my act together and find more delight
in doing what needs to be done to build something to show
for two score spent in dissipation watching the grass grow.

For forty years I’ve wandered, aimless (if you read my press)
and how I managed to survive is anybody’s guess;
but here I am an older man with little put aside
for rainy days and the malaise built up like muck inside.

And even though my mother (bless her and her dreams for me)
is likely to deny it or at best, just disagree,
the course for me is still unset, with mountains still to climb,
and wild paths yet to ramble left untraveled all this time.

I could have gone a different route, sought greater wealth and fame,
but had I come another path I would not be the same.
The stars are not much different in the sky as they were then;
they can be used to form new paths, not just trace might have beens.

And I have what I want, right now, though some would call it less
that what it should be. I seek out a greater happiness.
If I should last for forty more, undoubtedly, I’ll find
that my boat will at last reach shore — just where, I do not mind.

For ports and inns and treasure troves on wild, uncharted lands,
I’m sure will fade from memory like dry dust in my hands.
It’s only knowing who you are that makes a difference;
and taking forty years to learn that through experience

instead of scanning manuals, taking courses, reading signs,
has built a life worth living. And the best part? It is mine.
So forty comes and forty goes — it seems a lot of days.
All that was bad was my own fault, for good, I must give praise

to forces I’ve just glimpsed upon this often lonely trail,
that oft appear as wisps of smoke not some great holy grail.
I hope just this: the time to come, what’s left to me this round,
won’t seem like unimportant drivel, or just mumbled sound.

But forty’s just a number; it does not mean all that much:
some measure of maturity to lean on, like a crutch,
or use to force my issues down some young and eager throats
who’ve just started their seeking and still think they must take notes.

So I will taste of forty (a respectable old port)
and try to make the next four decades of a different sort.
I couldn’t do the same again, so what’s the point to try?
I’ll take each new day as it comes, and get there, by and by.

26 DEC 2004

Share This:

The View You Choose

Having just seen the new Harry Potter film, I was contemplating the underlying message I find in JK Rowling’s work. No, it’s not some dark Satanic point that seeks to overthrow the basic power structure of the Christo-centric universe. Not exactly, anyway. In my opinion, the most important lesson to be learned from Harry Potter is this: there are people in this world who see magic, and those who don’t. Much like there are people that imagine the world is becoming a hell-hole, and those who imagine it can become a paradise. It doesn’t matter, really, from whence you feel that the magic, or power, emanates. What does matter is your motivation for harnessing it. Next to that, is your interest in how it affects other people. Or something like that.

Among the views with which to judge this life
are found just variations of a pair:
the one, that looks upon the world as filled with strife
and seeks for naught beyond its veiled despair,

with tired and jaded judgments placing blame
on circumstance and temporary might;
for those who look in this way, life’s a game
that designates the one who wins as right.

And sadly, with this vision they proceed
to deem imagination foolishness;
Upon the world they let their bitterness exceed
their hope, and thus, destroy real happiness.

Some unseen, greater prize in vain they seek
to line the coffers of their empty hearts;
and without joy, at length, they deign to speak
of where one’s duty ends, and knowledge starts.

The other view sees the same time and place,
but seeks beyond the surface of the world
and to its mad illusions gives no chase
preferring the whole oyster to the pearl.

Where others see mere folly and lost wealth
attending those who linger on the path,
concerned with more than benefit to self,
they look upon the flower’s bloom, and laugh.

In each small thing, a sense of grand design
and purpose is observed by eyes like these;
and in the commonplace, they seek and find
beneath the surface, subtle energies

that form the substance of all that exists;
yet this discovery breeds no sense of pride,
nor puts their name on some great hidden list;
’tis rarely fame and wisdom coincide.

Of course, within each group, a varied lot
that spans the gamut from glutton to saint,
exists, and each must find their chosen spot.
For some the vision’s strong, for others, faint.

But it is from this pair of points of view
that all the world divides in sects and creeds:
the one, that sees no magic left to do;
the other, knowing better, disagrees.

06 JUN 2004

Share This:

moving edward, a wall said longing

come fall with me, he said,
where i have lain alone beside myself
and watched in silence
screaming it is not for me
to say or not to speak the words
that self-destruct and
creep unseen between your lips
where i have seen eternity.

come lay with me, she said,
where i have fallen into trusting you
and waited longing there
explaining it is not my fault
to blame or not to curse the seeds
that self-inflicted and
once wanted from between your lips
i wear now like eternity.

come live with me, i said,
where i have been and seen and done
and wrested quiet angels
whispering it is not for you
to know or not to guess the secrets
that self-deprived and
ancient slip about your head
where i have thought of eternity.

come laugh with me, you said,
where we can blissful meet entwined
and write our heartless memoirs
wishing it were not the same
to you and i or not to anyone else
that self-indulgent and
zealous stripped our guilt away
and thrust us together in eternity.

1994

Delaying the inevitable writing of another daily poem by digging into the archives. This one is from my “ee cummings meets gertrude stein” period. The title refers to, if you can believe it, the Prince Edward’s abdication of the throne of England (that would be the edward) because of his love for Wallace Simpson (that would be the “wall”). That leads one to believe that the poem is about a willingness to pay any price for love. And it MAY be.

Share This:

Here is Where I Am

Could have been famous, so I’ve always said;
those Hollywood notions still mess with my head.
Should be free of them by now, I suppose –
just takes accepting the life that I chose.

Paths come together, and then they diverge.
Drought always leads to some great demiurge.
Crossed wires connecting one thing to the next,
building new circuits where no one suspects.

Could have made money, or more than I do;
but then I wouldn’t have what I’ve been through.
Could start all over, and trust all to chance,
despite Thoreau’s quip about new pairs of pants.

Paths run together, and then they part ways;
hard to judge where they lead there through the haze.
One trail seems easy, deceptively so;
each single step leads to what you don’t know.

Could have made much wiser use of my brain –
sounds like my mother’s recurring refrain.
Gone to Columbia, Juilliard, Yale;
available options, now beyond the pale.

Roads intersect, and they head off apart:
North and East intellect, South and West, heart.
Could have done better, but no, never mind;
here is where I am, and right here is fine.

10 SEP 2003

Share This:

Plan B is the Reality of Plan A

Sometimes, I wonder if the choices made
in the heat of the moment, out of my head,
by comparison to some plan would have played
out differently if I’d chosen that plan instead.

While in some way that structure might
have lent some order to the resulting chaos,
making each achievement less of a fight,
there is no way to reckon the loss

that results from adhering to just what you know
and the lessons avoided by acting just so
and besides, all that planning is useless sometimes
when you’re trying to make up your mind
there are some pieces you leave behind.

Sometimes, I wonder if the easier road
is the best way to travel, foot on the gas,
by comparison to the rough path that I chose
that you can’t turn off to from the overpass.

While in some way that highway could
have got me here faster, in far fewer days,
engine less weary there under the hood,
there is no way to reckon the ways

that you learn if you’re looking beyond what you know
and by travel to places you’d rather not go
and besides, no one’s guidebook will take you that far
when you’re trying to find who you are
there are some pieces not seen by car.

Sometimes, I wonder if the next best thing
is the choice you should make from the start;
by comparison, all the sureness Plan A brings
makes you see with your head, not your heart.

While in some ways the clearer plan should
make you more successful, to some small degree,
every plan has its failings, no matter how good,
there is no way to reckon the fee

that you pay if you’re only sure of what you know
and the things you acquire and treasure are for show
and besides, their true value is not guaranteed
when you’re trying to find out what you need
there are some times the danger is speed.

02 SEP 2003

Share This: