March 25, 2005

• Link to my NEW book http://www.cafepress.com/assortedfruits

  
  

  And from the book: two poems.

  
  

  “Raga Kalvati”

  
  

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  night-gat swim, the oil-sea

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  of the moon shadow

  
  

  of a silver shimmer

  
  

  singing, singing,

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  of the black salt raga

  
  

  humming, humming,

  
  

  the planet heart ever combing the waves

  
  

  starspeck marine of lost souls

  
  

  crying, crying,

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  of the drut teental salavia water

  
  

  my hot fireskin in coolness

  
  

  floating, floating,

  
  

  song cradling an alap of sky

  
  

  in cloud baked stars

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  the tala of my icebreath

  
  

  will end the sorrow of blackfig purple

  
  

  greeting, greeting,

  
  

  the ocean without the crunching

  
  

  sound of killing tanks

  
  

  grinding, grinding,

  
  

  the sand-dune drink of dust

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  of a land with a god of many hopes

  
  

  leading the white rhino to the pastures

  
  

  where blood does not drip

  
  

  its child-death laughter

  
  

  sobbing, sobbing,

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  and the fishy depths surround me forever

  
  

  singing, singing,

  
  

  the moonglow ripples of the hot night

  
  

  i dream     i dream

  
  

  of the raga kalavati

  
  

  sung at my uniting of my soul with water

  
  

  longing, longing,

  
  

  to take my immortal spores across the sea

  
  

  and leave man alone to fight in my name.

  
  

  —

  
  

  Lord Pineapple

  
  

   

  
  

  ————-

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

  “I rediscovered the unworn world” (Patrick Kavanagh)
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  Come easy to this unworn world,
  

  
  

  where life and death go un-treated;
  

  
  

  but where there is still the freshness,
  

  
  

  where there is still the unstale’d.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  It was never easy to see the world as new
  

  
  

  when one is their-self crusting old,
  

  
  

  when one has drank the wine of it’s soul
  

  
  

  and ate the plants of it’s dying light.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  But I know I have re-discovered you
  

  
  

  whenever I write a poem at all,
  

  
  

  whenever the clouds silk in cold
  

  
  

  or are baked in an oven of suns.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  An unworn world that’s still soaks life,
  

  
  

  billions of people each with different eyes
  

  
  

  that look in wonder out of different brains,
  

  
  

  and all using very different words.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  If I wore a crown every day
  

  
  

  I could not have so much power
  

  
  

  as when I touch a silver leaf
  

  
  

  or feel a redbrick factory.
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  After all I have suffered in my days
  

  
  

  I still want to rise up again
  

  
  

  out of the ashes of silence,
  

  
  

  to re-discover the unworn world
  

  
  

  in the evening of my dreams,
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  —
  

  
  

  The Poet Known as “Empty Chairs”
  

  
  

  
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  Link to well…check it PLEASE! For_Terry

  • 6:06 pm
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