At Ryder Lake - a weekend visit to my cabin

My dog and cat
    what can I do for them
who sit together on the steps and wait
    upon my going
going out to part
    my life is twisted in the stem
and I who
    last to choose
must either stay or go
    postpone our fate
the estrangement of a file
    in someone's providential
cabinet up there
    no doubt where is father
to a motto

so I drink a brother glass to prove
    the pose of reason
is no match in satisfying
    man's esteem
in short
    I'm getting blotto!


mcmlxiii rev. mmviii

The crew

Rough men     rough hands and tongue
    rough for the purpose
a job to do and a will to do it
    when the shovel swings
a tune is played
    rhythm of muscles and motion


Good men
    good to dig a ditch with
shovel and gravel and pipe and tamp
    down in the hole
the cribber's dared
    hardpan or silt
wet ditch and dry
    they're the boys to work with


When a job's to be done
    and every last son-
of-a-bitch must be working
    they're the boys to work with

mcmlxiii, rev. mmvii

Fall ‘72

As i squint through my sadness
    eyes of sorriest unrest
disquieted by the split between
    me and my compeers
sequel to deficit of views
    feeling used-up and squeezed-out by society
though not so blessedly bereft of grief
    as the village idiot exorcised beyond belief
nor as nonchalant as a solitary bee
    found cold and unangry on a dying goldenrod in September
gutwise i’m hung-up –- with belly fodder no luck
    lush in the bush letting off steam
god’s grace as inefficacious as demon rum
    in redeeming loss of face: seeing self eye to inner eye
while saints sing hosannah
    church choirs serenade apple-pie order in the sky
as if metermaids and one-way streets
    honking drivers speed traps cops on their beats
were headtrips extensions of the ego


Nah i’ll recover my composure
by-and-by without closure
    we grow through not out of
as trees askew attest
    oh Susannah don’t you cry calls out your best
we’ll bear up serenely never meanly
    hardship promises unjoyful occasion to think things over
like crabgrass and clover we’ll learn to thrive
    in the alley where neglect and abuse aint discreet
better that than put up a front like a garden lawn
            obliged to the street

mcmlxxii

Out of the Impasse

Am i sane or am i mad
    a dog in the manger
hating the stranger in myself?
    good and evil we were twain
but god is dead
so i am half-alive
which is the very devil!
    they swear the seed i bear
is cursed even unto the trump of doom
which is why i would bid my heirs
fare-thee-weal or fare-thee-woe
    meanwhile i’m stuck among the either-ors

        see-saw margery daw
        johnny shall have a new master

    why rue the devil’s encores
adam’s legacy    not mine!
i’m wiser    pay him no heed
he’ll get meaner and meaner
aggravate his spleen and bust
    until then i won’ t mention
good/bad    honour/lust
embrace the difference between
without being one or t’other
i’ll arrange a humane paronym
brother i’d rather say amen:
    to my little i am and big i am
hello in there stranger
i’m no dog in the manger!

mcmlxx

Who turned off the sun?

Who turned off the sun
and fixed it on those mountains?
If I am crazy
why any mountains
why my beloved sun
why darker clouds
and persistent unruly winds?
suspicions rule my brain
and you laugh it off i know
cleverly defending your ego
but i?    suspicions remain
why any sun
why any sky
why do clouds fly
and no rain fall?
peripheral light and shadow
lie between
humanity and insanity
and the pain of the crossing touches my cerebellum
eyballs switched back to front
cutting off the sun
and the clouds
they bring no rain
with their cold penumbra
only doubts    suspicions    remorse
running wild
while people twirl parasols on mountain-tops
tomorrow
today I am a fearful child

mcmlxx

After seeing the film, "Patton"

after seeing the film "patton"

to patton,
yes    i don't have a patent
on survival    though i do have my ifs and buts
about blood and guts
and i hate your megalomania
so you and i could never belong
in the same neighbourhood
still    are you less sane than me    who see
providence squatting like a watchdog
behind every tree?
who cares whether my surrealistic fantasies
square with yours?
i quiver like a bee
robbing the flower    getting drunk
on droplets of honey
while you swear and stamp and tear up the earth
like a bull let loose    destroying our roots
who's to choose between us?    while obeying our own rules
we both preserve by accidental means
ask any sidewalk lawyer or politician    he'll judge
i don't know how
    meantime
we'll conscientiously refuse to budge from these extremes
justifying our temperamental stance by force of personality
while men and women lean    cling    hold tightly together
longing    loving        hoping to understand
anarchist and nihilist alike insist
they've been appointed bloody saviours of the world
am i a mad inaugurator heralding the new
and you a deluded crusader demolishing the old?


mcmlx

A precept

Inner peace is hard to find
    the peace between much harder
but peace, the peace i have in mind
    the faint of heart will never find
    though it justifies the ardour

through trials, whether hurt or loss
    when harm may hap
    or worse shall come
there's a fine-tuned nerve
    can constant serve
    to brace against fate's rigour
with one's own self
    stand eye to eye
    ne'er flinch from that
    though ever-so beleaguered

mm

The way i look at problems

The way i look at problems
    as if eye to shadowy eye with widow in veil
disillusions me
    might as well hang grief on a nail
why bother with contrary evidence
    frustrates resolution
there's conversion in a minute
    instant prayer
and visitation by the spirit

the way i look at problems
    screws thread of misery
down tight    down tighter
    in my head
like experience of bewildered schoolboy
    couldn't grasp what valency and periodic law meant
victim of ridicule by chemistry master
    and laughter of class
none of it made sense

weigh the pitfalls of a city intersection
    busy with the traffic of a summer weekend
no time to lose!    honk! honk!
    then c-r-ash! a flattened fender
faces in consternation
    and another accident ...
we ask why?    who did what to whom?
    no clue         accusations fly
a search for motives    circumstantial evidence
    and the blame to hang on some unlucky guy

it's him    he did it!    cries his nemesis
    sitting parrot-wise upon a twisted limb
but blame myself?    why stop there?
    i might as well pin the donkey's tail
on society    my mother    or the bothersome happenstance
    of being alive

no! i won't be stuck with demonized judgments
    of right and wrong
i'm here right now
    head to head with the cocksure vanity of the human mind
losing my sanity
i'm reminded of when i was lost
    on the bluffs of a mountain at dusk
unable to go forward    afraid to go back
    i came on the tracks of a bear
        leapt down the crags
and slid down the rockslides
without any fear
    not bothering to ask whether i should or should not
retrieved from hazard by an inspiring dare

196_, rev. mmvii

Do you know how many centuries

Do you know how many centuries
    humankind has struggled to futurity
    for this imbroglio
have we fought the dinosaurs
    survived wars
    of conquest or roses
    or supporters of ideas
    hellbent on the betterment of others
to issue in a sleek blue
    suit or car or mood
jazzing it up
    without a cup to offer in libation to the gods
    or in celebration of that splendid equation
    our sister- or brother-in-us
or to hymn the juggernaut that notices
    each weak little ball of fluff
    in eggshell daintiness of condition
whilst we with armoured boots
    have trod the boards in passion
    trampling underfoot our qualms
    pook-poohing the alarms
    despite the cost
    to nature and the commmonweal
marching with the hordes or the latest fashions
    to wheel-and-deal an amnesty from fate
    which will call presently:
    'kiss me kate!'

197_ , rev. mm