THE DELIRIOUS ARCHER
This is the story of the delirious archer
who could shoot in a state no one would say
was sober yet he hit the bulls eye every time
He split eyelashes saplings feathers floating in air in absolute
half yet was so deliriously ecstatic as the world
showed itself to him fully jeweled in every aspect
kaleidoscopically singing in close harmony and revealing to his bedazzled eyes
the secret meanings of things entirely that he
couldn’t be given seemingly normal responsibilities
but was for all intents and purposes to everyone else
a complete idiot always smiling when not laughing and
always laughing when not sobbing
6/13
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THE SECRET OF POETRY
One line lands in a word and one word
lands in a line and
there you have it the secret of poetry
A steep incline guarded by panthers
A dense forest where lit periwinkles and dizzy
fairies jostle for space between leaves and flowers
each yelling inaudibly that they are the
guardians of poetry
A sudden drop out of nowhere into a sudden drop into nowhere
guarded by lines of army ants and one nearly eaten
brigadier who used to be in uniform though now his
real bony armaments show through
Or it’s a long stretch with few houses and some
snoozing beasts and you can barely see the
mountains for the haze and the heat itself is
unbearable
Now getting on your hands and knees about poetry is
definitely preferable to sitting in a comfy armchair
and getting face down in total prostration is
certainly preferable to hands and knees and from there
a secret meeting in a dark marketplace by The Jeweler’s stall
on a Thursday night with enough currency to carry away
something of inestimable value
Guarded by two giant mastiffs in spike collars who
haven’t eaten for weeks
Lift the little cut turquoises and put them into place next to the
evenly-placed sliver abalone chips in such a pattern and at
such an angle that they’ll catch the light fully before it
fades to zero
And better than full prostration
there is actually nothing
let everything slide out fingers and toes
and when you later settle into bed let your
extremities unflex the world entirely so your body’s
little electric nerve serpents can wiggle out and be
gone though they served their purpose well
Poetry that doesn’t adorn the corridors of heaven
and the doors of Paradise covered with signs
is worth nothing more than paper foil cut into shapes
then crinkled into small balls and tossed
over forgotten fences
People spend so much time saying nothing worth saying and
hearing nothing worth remembering as the big clock
moves forward on giant claw feet and the
geese try again this year to find their
own way home
Guarded by poets in flammable garments
lounging outside the fireworks factory
hoping midnight will find them there
still in one piece
when dawn comes
6/15
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AFLOAT BEHIND THE FACE OF THINGS
He had permission to only speak when spoken to
only look when looked at
only walk ahead when ahead walked him there
only stand in a standing he was given and he
was given good standing
Only participate when participation somehow
parted in such a way as to let him in
And in these straits and strictest circumstances
he saw what was seen and heard the
hearing in which even a pin dropping
was choirs
He was not left alone for long since what
came to him became him
His activity in this world became a phenomenon like
rain or the weather or a sweet drink in the
sun or an arc seen to connect two points
with no superfluous engineering but just enough to
go from point to point
essentialized accompanied by larks and
heavenly phrases as his eyes surveyed a world
of domelike stars become unlidded as seeing itself
poured into him from a great distance somewhere
beyond our single system
And his speech was never more than could
pound a nail or set free desperate
animals from their traps
And among humans he was that rarity
a silent witness and an ever-present cog when a
wheel needs turning or a soul dependant on the
wrong ledge needs anchoring to real land mass or
liberated from the ocean’s lunar levels as a
daily round and set free into the deepest cosmic limitations
Here was a heart that knew no numbness
A pot of varied flowers spoke to him from the forest of the center
afloat behind the face of things
7/17
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SAINTLY PLACES
We need to stand in saintly places
the way our body needs food to not topple over
We need to go there and find nearness there
even just a rude rock-strewn place where something
saintly took place or is taking place
tombs in giant sepulchers or a rude
rock-strewn place you can feel under your
feet or at the base of the heart the
non-physical saintliness of a real person in whom
God was by that person’s pleasing pleased
and stand there in its crystal waters rushing
past our ears and bathing our limbs the way
careful mothers of all creatures bathe their young
in the same way really we need to
find and stand in saintly places in this world
or stand with saintly ones and
stand with them for a time or for all time
and once found not ever leave their sainted precincts
in time or out of time
but stand with them
in their saintly places or those
who have gone before whose places are still
palpably alive the way even other live places
are not but these places are refuges and
refueling places not known anywhere
else on earth or with any other practitioners
and to stand in the bounty of a saintly place is
indescribable but evident if not then
then now in its great effect and the continuous affect
it has on us to
stand just once or have stood for even a small time
in space
in saintly places
8/10
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