Saturday, April 23, 2022

I'm Back

 


I’m Back

                                                -for Guiliana & Deborah


Throat Cancer. Chemo. Radiation
Burning Mouth Syndrome (BMS)
Lymphedema. Dental Caries

Xerostomia (permanent dry mouth)
Pneumonia in the middle of treatment

Picking me up after
outside St. Mary’s, Caretaker Rosen
said I looked like I was on my way out
A goner like dear dead Jack

Started improving & then hernia
Surgery. Covid & quarantine

Home-tested myself when I sniffed
my stash of Egyptian blue lily
& couldn’t smell a thing

Confirmed in Telluride the next day

Prostate Cancer. Gleason Nine
Aggressive. Chemical castration
Laparoscopic surgery

Catheter. Incontinence. Adult diapers

But here iamb
Lyric alive
& looking back at you




ART GOODTIMES


Lone Cone Broadside                                            Union of Mountain Poets
Vincent St. John Local / Headwaters of Maverick Draw / Aztlán
the late Jack Mueller Brigade / Western Slope / 4 Corners
 Cloud House Brigade (Retired) / San Francisco
13022

(Photo by Rio Coyotl)

Friday, April 22, 2022

Occupied (they, theirs)

 


                                                                              -for Robin Magee...   

Capt. Barefoot shares
the old saw:

If a cluttered desk
is a sign of a cluttered mind
what's an empty desk?

Holed up in a new house
in their mid-70s
they get to clean out the old

Re-enchanting the temp shelves
with hardbacks, chapbooks, pictures
plaques, awards & freebox superfinds

the Captain's 
in heaven

They're not into the cyber-savvy
podcast-eared Ikea-primed
sparse architecture of the virtual

Instead, they're flying the wind-whipped
Ukrainian flag on their front porch
in spring's sympathetic magic of solidarity

A true believer in
the serendipity of accumulated
happenstance revealed

Says itki keeps the neurons firing
to hold memory's charge

Call me a hoarder
the Captain confesses
I call myself an archivist

Wandering the stacks
till the end. Until all matter
transubstantiates into

Jack Mueller's kaleidoscopically 
emerging form

Saturday, April 2, 2022

Bristlecone 3

 


The new issue of Bristlecone, Colorado's latest online litzine, is out -- thank you Joe Hutchison! 

Go  Here 

to read the work of Patricia Dubrava, Jeff Foster, Beth Paulson, Daniel Klawitter, Lary Kleeman, John D. Levy, David Mason and yours truly. 

Below's the poem of mine that appears in the mag. The Rainbow Family is considering hosting this year's national gathering in Colorado:


Rainbow Gathering


-for Dolores LaChapelle


Purple lupines tell us more than park rangers

when we camp amid their wolfish blooms


Tug their starry leaves until the dew

seeps into our skin & we come to realize 


what a wet kiss can really mean

"That ain't dew," pipes up McRedeye


"that's coyote piss.” And the laughter we

hippies ring from the bell of our mouths


announces not ecstacy’s vespers but the 

zen koan of the Trickster's leer. The fear 


in the cop’s sneer. Despite the arguments

for & against Earth First!, Murray Bookchin


coast redwoods & the superiority of the

sensuous, we’ve learned how to drum, hum


& chant. How much morning tai chi teaches 

us in the shadows of Shandoka's slopes


How quickly we can recover the lost harmonies

of the Wild. How deep Nature’s alive inside us


Hungry hawk chicks nested in the branching

of our neurons. Whole fields of timothy &


escaped orchard grass up against hot splashes

of Indian paintbrush. Golden mariposa petals


Wind-whipped groves of spindly doghair

tremuloides, false hellebore, sweet cicely &


& the 40-year flowering of green gentian

All the plant lore that any good Crone knows


Hiking with her we stumble into beauty

Carry home stone. Bone antlers. Trilobites &


fat boletes to remind us on the way to & fro 

what’s meant in taking the time to lose


ourselves in skies gone psilocybin. To grok 

bristlecone pine impervious to alpine gusts


To settle into the embrace of our more

than human family, and even if only


for a few days, to hear our own opened 

hearts singing us back into the mystery







Thursday, March 31, 2022

Tax Time

 


Winter of our Discontent


Expected snow

but their band of flakes

a no-show


No surprise

This dosey-doe

of cloudless skies


Drumbeat of tax cuts

border wars, coal scat

& plutonium futures


Itki’s undanceable

Unsustainable

An off-key bully boast


Itki's care frozen mid-step

Wisdom in flaming absence

Let’s face the facts, we’re furious


Time for manifesting anger

that makes the floor shake

Calls us out 


to act on

our thwarted socialismo values

Mad as shaggy manes 


busting up

through the White House lawn

Disgust pushes us


onto the Beltway dancefloor

for a little Aztec 

two-step


A tarantella of protests

where outside action comes from 

an inside movement


Outrage that won't stay put

Though, as one Ish Nation poet scribed

putting a hopeful spin to the story


In every good tango

there’s a step backwards 

too


Nevertheless, McRedeye sez

no time for tip-toeing

This ain’t  no ballet


Best be joining 

hands & yes yes

 jumping into the mosh pit





Sunday, March 20, 2022

Vernal Equinox


                 Microbes stirring in the soil,

The very air alive,

Crocus and daffodil,

Iris and hyacinth emerging from bulbs,

Rose and lilac with their beauty and scent.

Green fire waking, 

With all the joy  of Persephone

returned from her sojourn in the underworld.

 

Birdsong fills the air again as these angels 

court, mate, nest and search for food,

tickled into wakefulness by light and warmth.

Your cells are laughing too

Let them laugh despite so many woes.

Join with one another in  gratitude and praise.

Of the promise of Spring and of longer, lighter days.


Amy Hannon (aka Amalia Sabatini), Clinton, NJ

Monday, March 7, 2022

OUR VOICES, OUR RESISTANCE!


Judyth Hill of PEN San Miguel de Allende has organized an international presentation of poets from around the world  bearing witness to global struggles, human and environmental. As a member of her chapter of PEN, I'm proud to share my poem, Building Alliances

Building Alliances

“There’s been too many ripoffs for too long”

-Leo Lyyoki


If I had a hammer

& not the one that busted

in my hands as organizers are

busted for planting

trade union pegs

to stretch the corporate tent


A hammer that wouldn’t

buckle under

to repeated blows


Merciless sun baking sidewalks

Tools pushed to their limits

Snapping under pressure


If I had a hammer

forged of the Mother’s fury

yet tempered with love

for all her relations

two-legged four-legged

buried stone or spiraling seed


A hammer shaped to

the will of the people


Nothing could stop us

from driving a nail through

the heart of the beam

to begin the reconstruction


Building alliances

powerful as the wind

that rips a roof to shreds

or sweeps a prairie clean


The order of the reading has changed to:

Iya Kiva: Ukraine PEN ~
 Linda Marie Baros: French PEN
Inga Gaile: Latvian PEN ~
 Pam Uschuk: PEN America
Diane Régimbald: PEN Quebec ~ 
Bana Baydoun: PEN Lebanon
Dragica Čarna Slovene PEN ~ 
Ma Ma Thiri: Myanmar PEN
Cristina Wormull PEN Chile ~
 Arinda Daphine: Uganda PEN
Veera Tyhtilä: PEN Finland ~ 
Anise Jafarimehr for Zeinab Yousefi: Kurdish PEN
Wezi Msukwa-Panje: Malawi PEN ~
 Aziz Isa Elkin: Uyghur PEN
Art Goodtimes: San Miguel PEN ~ 
Stella Nyanzi: Uganda PEN

 

Friday, March 4, 2022

The Quantum Physics of Fame

by Wendy Videlock


who wants small circles

when bigger circles make waves


maybe that’s the point