Monday, March 19, 2007

Where Is My Hair?

Wild weekends
Spent with wild women
Result in realignments
And renegotiations
With the material world
The boundaries of my mind
Are not the boundaries
Of my skull
Of my brain
Of my capacity to speak
Words which though clear
Syntactically correct
Do not come close
To containing the meaning
The knowledge
The experience
Which lures me onward
Then knocks me on my ass
Struck dumb
So that all I can manage
Is to watch my breath
That cosmic in and out
To be aware of my breath
And the thump, thump, thumping
Of my heart
Pump, pump, pumping
The contents of the
Entire fucking world
In and out of
That cosmic me
Like sticky syrup
Not always sweet
But sustaining
Thump, pump, fucking
Through my veins
Weather vanes
All expressions are in vain
True poetry a pain
In my dumb ass
As I sit
In the presence of
God ESS ness
Dumb founded
Pointing with a child’s finger
To the reflection of the moon
In the still waters
Of an ocean
We are all rushing toward

1 comment:

Ronnie Larsen said...

What a lovely and thought-provoking poem. Knowing you, I assume the wild women you refer to are Eve Siona and Chani. Wild indeed! And don;t take this wrong, my masculine brother, but you look like Mom in that pic. I miss her so much.