Poetry Slam between Klaus J. Gerken and Maria Jacketti 2014 grammar short breath falling where it may sometimes a verb gets in the way! kjg 936am 29 sep 2014 * Farewell to a Virgin GPA Mr. funny fruit salad salsa chef of the ooh la la, mr. disco darling, drunken and sleeping through college, you quit, I quarked. Zombies later, I wonder what I really learned in college. Maria Jacketti 30 Sep 2014 * poet like any theoretical physicist a poet attends college to tweak the model already formulated poets are born not made you do not write like your teacher you teach your teacher how to write kjg 639am 30 sep 2014 * Tatiana's Ashes We are driving to Ringtown along curlicue and un-ribboning roads : fruit salad foliage, hot leaves, their veins sucked dry of chlorophyll, so I am also brittle and on fire with colors that scream all autumnal and ancient, like the leopard cat we held for fifteen years, her coat glittered with stars, so many windmills on the mountains on the road to Tatiana's magnetic remains, they stir time and the clouds. I am seeing the future. This is not 2014. These are not Quixote's whirligigs. A new world is coming, as from the ashes, Tatiana whispers, "Home. Take me home." Maria Jacketti 30 Sep 2014 * Quixote's Windmill driven by suspension i'll blow your house down madness is the supposition that reality is not a house of cards frozen in deliverance the knight roars and beats his donkey's ass i am the wind i am the wind i will shatter your illusions sometimes power mounts a wooden pedastal with marble way too heavy to sprout wings sometimes we just sit and wait until the termites do their bit kjg 441pm 30 sep 2014 * Song of the 2:00 A.M. Abductor We came from the stars, Most recently the wormhole chateaux Of your moon to Mars, Before that from deeper space To make things right, Erase, erase. We abduct you when you sleep. Until you wake up to us, Afraid bumbler bee, old friend, You are energy, fat, muscle, And bone, our programmed meat. In the this most ancient battle, You are the avatars in monkey cattle. Shaman President, do your job To defeat us with drum and rattle. With drum and rattle. I said: with drum and rattle, Demons retreat. Maria Jacketti 1 Oct 2014 * waking drum and rattle what a squabble tibetan claptrap holy moptop no one sings who does not gargle with the latest ...well i daddle can't find poem play with marbles morning graybeard hovers lazy my i'm crazy news just slays me tittle tattle baby's rattle goo goo ga ga milton taught us such a bad ass if not heaven hell's a haven all need savin' grace a sayin' morning rolls me johnny skelton's getting heavy in my savvy mind can't rally hear me thunder city's under loud repair don't despair flutes and fiddles breakfast vittles praised be sunlight aten rising g'nite g'nite alright alright time's reversed which came first i can't remember plastic oven or the coven vivid dreaming in october welcome demons the perfect have no meaning where the gutter meets the devil the bubble will be level kjg 956am 1 oct 2014 Note: I was reading John Skelton poems all night. That's where the meter and rhyme comes from. * Pineapples, the Hospitality Fruit All around me people are smashing pineapples, the fruit of perpetual welcome, in a world upside down with hate. Consumers, you see, can't go to Hawaii, in fact, they can’t go anywhere now, just a trip to the grocery store sends them into bed with covers over their heads, now contemplating gas that might have filled their getaway cars, And even though they are hungry and fat, they smash pineapples in secret kitchenettes And now in the street., and the juice runs through downtown, drips into the sewers, and fills the abandoned coal mines. Go away! Get out of here! Leave me alone for you have no right to tempt me with the tropics and year round sun. If I try to grow a pineapple in an unclouded window, it will take me years. So, why is this love so cheap? In fact, I have been smashing pineapples, too, when I am too lazy to pare the outside that keeps the sweetness safe. And my hammer also cracks coconuts, and I think that my pineapples and coconuts will eventually marry, if they decide not to stay in their skins and go to war, so I am counting on pineapples, the diplomats to make sure that I become what I eat. MJ 2 Oct 2014 * exodus twisted rivers through the garden sparkle under clear blue skies from what we came this we follow the future does not reason why one sometimes wants for wont of wanting the truth lies somewhere in between the desert where we mark our footsteps and a river so pristine but do we dare to leave the garden do we dare to even try the garden is our safety screen but we are restless in our hunting crossing the periphery we continue with our inquiry kjg 1153pm 3 oct 2014 * On the Hill During the long days of forever, under bread dough clouds, she found an alligator drowsing in an ice cream cone. A bull dog barked, along the way, and she dropped three scoops of the lizard-luscious, complete with sprinkles, oh those sprinkles that sounded like the Mummer's Parade and stained the walk with the blood of carnival. Of course, her father would not buy her another. What were they? The Rockefellers? And besides the ice cream parlor was now on the other side of the hill, and the very already hall way home. From their balcony on the hill, gleamed the constellations of Manhattan, that sounded like a her toy piano, eking out tones of incompetent money, and incontinent hungers. The snow that year, smelled like the honeysuckle talc from Avon that her father used after shaving. It smelled like extravagant summer mocking a season of ancestor harvesting. And when life was most frozen, all of her aunts of the Seybert Street marveled at Marilyn Monroe, that platinum strumpet, nearly forty and still a diamond on fire. She was always summer and ice cream and even the stuff of Presidential erections. But her mother covered her ears, singed by the hot pink-bikini banter, and rolled out thick dough of life, parades of dough as wide as tablecloths. Oh bread of life, covering the bodies of ancestors, it rained acid from the mines, and the girl, wrapped herself in that obscured rainbow, found the mule at the end of it, and road down Eisenhower’s Interstate, to save herself and Gotham. * Menopause Unripe tomatoes sweating in brown paper bags - I am the oven of myself, No more hemorrhaging the wounds of womanhood, No more sex, Just waking up every night soaked in the marathon of a life, Sweat that smells like a locker room of urine, I weep, I laugh, I wet my pants in real time. My husband plays solitaire in the basement. My daughter hurls bloody tomatoes at me. Like Greenland's glaciers, Like cherry chunked ice cream under a sangria sun, This song steams. MJ 4 Oct 2014 * night of steam no use screaming at a wall it won't listen and you will only annoy the neighbours digging foxholes isn't proper either depending on the length of the ladder you might never be able to climb out besides the cat purrs in the corner of the sofa and he silence sings a gentle lullaby on nights like this it is reasonable to assume life goes on forever even after the inevitable be that as it may sleep does not come easy and the well-stocked bar is never empty of hope kjg 1041pm 4 oct 2014 * Prosody then you explain why you put the words in that order then someone states "isn't that clever" and no one remembers the poem kjg 828am 5 oct 2014 * From the Wall Street Journal This Week For the Day of Atonement In the last forty years, stacked like overdue library books, (does anyone read the signs anymore?) half the species on Earth, went lost without an ark, in the room of fresh water, three quarters of a blue apple pie of Gaia’s kindergarten, (I'm sure god has a sheep counter) heads popped out of the crust to speak all forgot their languages (still just one) drowned in their own breath. And only where money meets the word, does the truth eke out and away. Newsprint bleeds in the rain, all glut and evanescence. MJ 5 Oct 2014 * Just Give Me That Old Time Religion "I could not read or write, so one day I saw this sign advertising a religious revival in my village and I attended, and behold the lord cured me and all of a sudden I could read the bible!" Then they show him typing the message on a laptop to proclaim to the world the "good news". They also sell "potent" mustard seeds from the holy land that will cure everything! "Stay tuned and I'll be back with a free gift for a minimal donation..." How convenient! So says Dr. Grimm...(kid you not!) "Our calendar is pathetic because it's not god's calendar. We have god's calendar and you can have it for only..." Tax deductible of course... "And on the 4th day god gave us the light bulb..." yabba dabba doo! She whips out the bible and says, "We're going to make a few corrections: solar eclipses only fall on god's holy days, those that do not are calculated from our calendar, not god's calendar. God only provides us with blood moons... no other eclipses matter because they are not of the holy sacrifice... there have only been 3 blood moon eclipses since creation and the one on april 3rd this year will be the 4th... and wonderful things will happen to those who believe in our ministry." I hope this is a rerun... it's october now. "God said we are using the calendar of Socrates. This is what was given to Moses, it's not in your bible... but it's true." "Socrates is the Devil" (Lucifer...the light), "who keeps us in darkness." "There aren't 12 months in the year but 7 months. 7 days 7 months and 7 years. And we are now in the 7th year." "there will be two solar eclipses when we have a full blood moon...." Hmm...what latitude? And do we have to see it? I mean there's a full moon every day and an eclipse...they see it on the ISS... Oh yes, it has to be seen in Jerusalem... on a certain day that does not appear on your calendar, only on god's...October the 8th is the day... "if you don't see it you will not be saved." Sounds like a travel agency ad. Do they conduct tours? "None of what I am about to tell you is in the bible, but comes straight from god." Apparently god gave us the bible to corroborate what she fantasises: Shakespeare or James Joyce would do just as well... I'm sure Finnegan's Wake would do even better! They do get a little carried away I guess. And in the end: "God said you're either with me or against me. It doesn't matter how good you are. If you're not with me you belong to the devil." So good doesn't matter to god unless you worship him. Hallelujah! Praise the lord. Or whatever travesty he fits into. kjg 1244pm 5 oct 2014 * Indigo, Night Honey Bear Dance Black bear, heaven's bed-spread, Cover me with growl and claw All star-elixired, Night grows colder now, And love, a constellation of another hemisphere Would vex a rose quartz nun Washing her lost unmentionables under A flat pumpkin moon. Once I was a ginger-gold star, unknown to hunger, Now lost in the monkey slaughter, you, too, I bottle the breathe of flowers, a bee In rugged honeysuckle, an ursine quark, Hold out my arms and dance the windmill, Medicine folk fathom Dancing my night bear, bearing it. They dance with me, too. MJ 6 Oct 2014 * Indigo Hotel down o'connor street across from the public library is the indigo hotel advertising "the tao of comfort" for its clientele i have always thought being only 5 blocks away from parliament hill it would make a great setting for a novel of intrigue yet nothing ever happens there or does it it stands unassuming in the centre of the city in what used to be the old YMCA building where in the 60's and 70's drug deals used to be a daily occurrence and the homeless hopeless gathered for a free meal on holidays larry an aid at a local hospital lived there the summer of 1970 we sometime hung out together sharing a bottle of wine by the canal on the National Arts Centre grounds with other "hippies" of the day there was little else to do sometimes share our art and read our poetry or played our songs to a stoned audience it was the ottawa summer of love one day larry told me he also painted and i accompanied him to his room at the ymca to cleck out some of his canvasses nothing much but there was one of a man running away from parliament hill and sticking his head into a garbage can filled with discarded rotting flowers he said he needed money and i bought it for five dollars then he told me he needed a shot and took out a syringe and some white powder asked me if i wanted some and i said no i wasn't into that so left with the painting when i got back to the canal liz thought i was nuts for buying the painting and told me to throw it away but i don't destroy art and took it home to store among other painting i had purchased over the years from local artist even though it wasn't very good i wondered what was behind it a protest a message no one understood a personal hatred for authority it was after all intriguing a few months later at the end of summer larry called saying he had been in florida trying to enlist and go to vietnam and fight the communists he said he was sick of all this "hippie stuff" and when he was refused he came back to ottawa but he said what he really wanted was to have his painting back since he had lost all the other canvasses he had so said sure give back my five and i'll bring it down thinking he was staying at the y again but he wasn't he was in a local mental institution where he was interred since the day after i bought the painting from him after overdosing on heroin i gave the painting back for nothing it was all he had left and no one ever heard of or saw him again i guess the hotel indigo does have a ghostly past fit for a poem or a novel maybe some day someone will write it kjg 1144pm 6 oct 2014 * A Crystal Skull for the Day of the Dead From a Requiem for Tatiana Here it is, the crystal skull that my recently late leopard Found in the closet of ancestors, And hungry for resolution, she exhorts me To noggin it quick: Unzip the quartz and find the gel of all knowing And clarity. Go ahead put it on. I put it on, sweet tea cup leopard, and the Cosmic brain guts pour down on me, Like a diamond tropical nectar; It solidifies and becomes my soul's raincoat. And of course, now I can never take it off, for It is as much crystal as crazy glue Sweet leopard, sudden jaguar, I could not Save you in the flesh, for this planet is not right, And who is to say that it can ever be that again way again? So for eternal Halloween I will be This Mayan space girl, embracing the promise of the stars, And purring om with the cat who took off her earthly pajamas But kept her sparkling spots. Thank you, Tatiana. MJ 7 Oct 2014 * Relativity We are sub-atomic particles self-aware. kjg 355am 8 Oct 2014 * Of Wildlife and 20th Century Commerce (Laurel Mall, Hazleton, Pa. mid 1980s) I held a test tube tiger in the small city mall where I shopped like a forget-me-not for the essential forgotten,: five dollars for five seconds of rough caress; I shared the erupting feline light, our snapshot under the food court lights, more tempest than petting zoo. A wheel of years later, who holds your cinnabar metropoli, your ruby jungles, what fortune do we share?- Come back to me and I will ride you through the oceanic aisles of blue jeans, and all the mounds of Chinese harvest. I will ride you alive or dead - until extinction crumbles, until you hunt and devour so purely my mall of life again. MJ 7 Oct 2014 * cult i spoke the sacred words but held a secret thought i waited for the holy embracing what i aught i freed the dove of peace i bowed where silence ruled then coughed into the echo and thought myself a fool the virgin of the shadow said i was a spy i said i will not follow she said "accept the lie" i asked her for forgiveness she said return the gift with every ounce of feeling i walked away to live kjg 1119am 8 oct 2014 * Heads up there is more to this than meets the thought kjg 1214pm 8 Oct 2014 * Akhenaten's Hymn To The Sun Praise [Akhenaten] who bows to the horizon, his name, like his soul, dwells in the Sun, and is resurrected for eternity, in the living Sun, the triumphant Lord, who is master of everything the Sun embraces, who is master of the firmament, master of the ground, master of the former Sun above Akhetaten; and the Pharaoh of Upper and Lower Kemet, who lives in Ma'at [truth , justice] the master of the royal crown [Akhenaten], the one who lives forever; and the King's preeminent wife, whom he loves, the mistress of Kemet, alive, healthy, and eternally young. Akhenaten proclaims: You rise, omnipotent, above the horizon, the living Sun, who created life. Wherever you rise in the east you flood the lands with your omnipotence. You are revered, and great, and shimmering, over all the lands; your rays unite the lands like everything you have created. Being Re, your influence extends as far as other lands, and you stop them at the behest of your beloved son. Although you are very distant, your rays flood the land; you warm their faces, yet no one observed your departure. When you descend in the west the land turns dark like death. People sleep in their bedrooms with heads hidden under their blankets and one eye cannot see the other. Even if all their possessions under their pillows were stolen, they would never know it [because of the darkness]. Lions leave their lairs and serpents bite, for the darkness is a heavy blanket. Kemet is peaceful now, because the creator who made them is resting on the horizon. And in the morning you rise, shining like the Sun does every day. Translated by kjg 345pm 8 oct 2014 * Two Seasons In autumn abide the tatters of A titanium spring: A rumination of roots, a heart of infinite Evergreen filaments, within the deep Feet of mountains. Private to my hours The emerald deluge unbuttons itself, So swollen it swoops: behold This wig of grass I wear for life. MJ 9 Oct 2014 * no longer human he was told that if he refused treatment and allowed himself to die a natural death he would be a burden to society wasting tax payer's money when he finally ended up in hospital but on the other hand if he decided to live and accept treatment (which would extend at the outset his life by not more than a painful year) the government would pay for everything and he would be deemed a hero for fighting this terrible disease otherwise he's on his own oh and don't come to me for a anything go to a clinic i'll only monitor you every 6 months to see how fast you are dying kjg 641pm 9 oct 2014 * When Jasmine Sings Jasmine is the king of flowers, The tiger of love, And when jasmine sings, Stars appear like salt spilled, The quilt of cobalt night becomes Freckled sunny, making the local Universe, safe and bright. And I say, for all my days of Earth, let there be Jasmine, sweet and eternal, in jungle and hanging garden, On subways, and in houses where monkeys overflow. And , the acrobat of curtains that hold Back a tempest, is Jasmine, Perfuming this persistent body In search of that alchemical light, jasmine in every crayon, In stadium and drawers, where the impish sachets, Play only one note in infinite variation: floral Audacities crushed into woozy pots of gold, The garden of wide intoxicating vapors, of that, in helium gazebo, In my jukebox of tisanes, breath of adoration. MJ 10 Oct 2014 * Spirit I may not have the fancy words of a poet but I have the spirit of a poet and the spirit of a poet is a hell of a lot better than a bunch of fancy words. kjg 1228am 11 oct 2014 * Light for Darker Seasons The trees of October wear Make-up And then rustle away their colors Oh, let me be persistent pine With a teal coat, steadfast only Again to know the colors of the Christmas tree, So artificially sublime, Born of tamed electricity. MJ 10/11/14 * Tao sometimes truth is just around the corner but unfortunately your destination is further down the road kjg 201am 12 oct 2014 * Bank Robbery Sequence Another bank robbery: the pear tree Holds up Her leaves Notes for notes, the hungry bags Fill up, Leaves fall. All just paper. Police arrive late, Squirrels have heisted half The hazelnuts from the wood jewel bushes. I make a deal with the squirrels And they surrender enough for Ice cream. Another bank robbery: I save the Nuts for Thanksgiving. If they would only ask: It might be given. Oct. 12/ 14 10/14 Light for Darker Seasons The trees of October wear Make-up And then rustle away their colors. Soapy clouds bring baths that chase Such extravagance, yet it is the chill That awakens these colors, mimicking naked sunset More than the of dawn. Oh, let me be persistent pine With a teal coat, steadfast only Again MJ 12 Oct 2014 * Willoughby* it sometimes appeals to me that there is a sanity not recognized the sanity of death as far as I know we are the only species on this planet that prepares for a future no longer living in the present has made us insane i do not relish that idea but i live the pain get well soon or you'll be done kjg 814pm 12 oct 2014 *see Last stop at Willoughby the Twilight Zone * To Serve Man - It's a Cookbook! Paint on the Sailing Fog, Takes shape, now a light-infested sky of tiddlywinks, Of platinum snowflakes: They land on the rich rooftops of New York Like Santa Claus, but many-millioned. Paradise Lost, when the aliens Arrive like hot rod gods, like social workers, and declare Utopia, Come to our spas, we will take leaks On your deserts and cure, even the evil Ebola monster, by Godzilla!. The embargoed Acreage set free- the standing Ovations at the U.N. We are tired and want To incarnate the cures overdue the grape soda mountains —the dynasty after-the innocent lure swine enroute to bacon? To Serve Man is not a cookbook, It's War and Peace. MJ 13 Oct 2014 * Trinity the other side of god is woof and then there is meow that trumps them both! kjg 330pm 13 oct 2014 * Intimate to my clock The up-and-coming Sun showers two flashes in the cat's eyes, lightning bolt MJ 14 Oct 2014 * Poet With A Broken WIng i am ashes today no phoenix rising to a cerulean sky i am a poet with a broken wing suffering my sanity on an island without lotus blossoms or promegramades i watch the tide go out and wonder when it will be time to go home kjg 1114am 14 oct 2014 * Cat ears Radar a-flick White thunder MJ 14 Oct 2014 * Physics the farthest spot away from you is the spot you are standing on it is also the nearest if there is a constant in the universe it is this nothing is real in the sense of our reality we are a map to another reality incomprehensible for now a new darker shadow in a brighter light wear sunshades when you emerge from it kjg 1150am 14 oct 2014 * Sancho Shits Off the End of His Donkey But first he rolls down his pants, And then he spreads each cheek of his buttocks As far toward the end of his donkey As life allows him,. And then he lets it go, but getting half on his Donkey, and alerting Quixote's nose This is not a successful shit, Rather it is an imperative one. There is no lily bath in the crystal ball Where I watch this scene a thousand times. Sad world when we have to shit for our Bosses' delight. Today at work, I listened to supervisors Shit off the end of my ear. I beheld them shit into the sun of my Day. I beheld the clouds turning murky, And the rain down diarrhea and then I cracked the globe, and out strode Quixote and Sancho, Who both landed on my lap like freshly groomed kittens, And reminded me that so much shit Grows flowers that rival windmills. You can also behead and crucify Your enemies with windmills, broken apart into Weapons. I am going to shit stars in the woods like An avatar And crack open this world, for my rosebud Honeydew pleasures, Sancho. For my joy of lettuce And skyscrapers of hay. Watch me. Shit. Shit. Shit. MJ 14 Oct 2014 * Christianity in a Nut...shell! I was at the grocery store the other day and overheard two young women ahead of me in line at the check-out counter: Woman to her friend: "I just returned from a trip to Rome and saw the place where Jesus lives!" "How wonderful! Did you get to see him?" "Oh no...he doesn't talk to common people! But I did see the place where he died!" They left giggling as if talking about some rock star they had just encountered. Well she at least got the essence right: Jesus died, was resurrected and lives in he Vatican... somewhat. kjg 12-15 oct 2014 * Growing older The sequoia tosses rings Around my bones MJ 15 Oct 2014 * The sorrow of work Aspirin's path resolute blood to my heart MJ 15 Oct 2014 * Positive dreaming on my sofa Cats wait their turn kjg 1128am 15 oct 2014 * Every day my father's clothes Covered in coal dust - This freezing house MJ 15 Oct 2014 * October, no frost yet: Just a breath away: Step back MJ 15 Oct 2014 * Summer weather August wakes October... kjg 252pm/252am/1009am 15/16 oct 2014 * Blues: no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone got no money got no fame got no fam'ly just the same no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone just throw me in the bottom of a grave i need no priest my hollow soul to save no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone got no money got no fame got no fam'ly just the same no one's gonna miss me when i'm gone kjg 959am 16 oct 2014 * Inside tears The swollen rain Pounds with fists MJ 16 Oct 2014 * rain how i used to love the rain dreaming at my window of paris london and of rome in my younger shadow writing poems to the muse enlightened by the vigour of dreams and things to come what have i done to sever this energy i have grown old i have grown old i never thought these aching bones would stifle my endeavour but so it is and came about my youth a distant longing the rain returns me to that time it saddens to be laughing laughing why i will not bow to a shallow old amusement the past is gone and i am here it's a funny sort of appeasement kjg 1029am 16 oct 2014 * Old junkie poet Lights up With leaves of grass MJ 16 Oct 2014 * Old bard Light up With leaves of grass MJ 16 Oct 2014 (revised) * Art and Death Vladimir Holan wrote "Houses of death Have a bar in the basement" I won't deny the fact Death is either acceptance Or denial There can be no between And if one doesn't Have a basement One has a floor littered With empty bottles Providing inspiration While denying life Art is like a virus That flourishes while Killing its host. kjg 1227am 17 oct 2014 * art the artist longs for peace but never finds it art is not a profession art is a possession kjg 107am 17 oct 2014 * ghost the quiet of the evening is only broken by the gong of heartache kjg 123am 17 oct 2014 * Circumstance Saved the life of my little fruit fly again. This is starting to become routine. Whatcha gonna do when I'm not here? kjg 558pm 17 oct 2014 * Halloween's fresh costume: The 20th century witch Drives a Hoover. MJ 17 Oct 2014 * Hallowe'en Poem which witch is this that witch with a twitch and an itch when the hurly burly's done and macbeth is on the run what fun dive right in we sell a sin to the holy oh what glory peek-a-boo i see you you can't see me behind the tree i'll rightly be sprig of basil what's the hassle it's a tassel thick fog comin' angels strummin' sybils laughing what's the joke or the yoke have a toke which witch with the twitch has an itch ah he's comin' macbeth is comin' get a-stirrin' when the hurly burly's done happy hallowe'en everyone kjg 648pm 17 oct 2014 * post-apocalyptic we will all be one shuffled into hell just as well heaven's only swell for those who subscribe to the latest fad (religion must be mad so man dying for the privilege to live) i guess the promise of a better world makes sense for some for me it really doesn't matter the world's already as corrupt as it can get as an angel you can wax your wings and fall to earth bypassing purgatory salvation only matters when you're too dead to understand the lie he's alive and well in hell kjg 1148pm 17 oct 2014 * impulse buying it makes me angry that i didn't get what i wanted at the store now that i'm home i want it more than ever and what i bought i have no hunger for kjg 1155pm 17 oct 2014 * Raking Leaves Tempest leaves that whirl away from my hungry rake- Last tomatoes, skimping hours, the stray Angel white cat who eludes my traps: I would have her on my lap as we rest Before the fire. There is time. Later today, I will save seeds For another year, there is hope. I find myself already talking to winter, Begging for gentle snow That falls in thimble buckets. No need to storm so much anymore. King sunflower heads that droop - Sunshine ekes away behind these leafy tors, perpetuity In the trees' surrender - from my childhood, they Have stretched ever closer to the stars, Wiser each year, saved from paper. I may never see the greater world, But the universe of this yard, The seasons conjure this harvest The leaves piled high as snow banks, I have made my world And I wonder when it will harvest me. MJ 10/18/14. * Walking With A Cane I used to run to catch the light; Now I limp to catch the pause. kjg 1016am 19 oct 2014 * Sunflower moon, In my arms, tigers In each marigold MJ 19 Oct 2014 * Ubu Bored Silly me I'm a bumbling bee Rolling round On the ground Funny that I'm too fat Give me wings And furry things And off I'll fly To drink some rhy It's awful good Has wormwood But Ubu Roi Played with his toy And soon thereafter To howls of laughter Produced a son With a gun Who always shouted Thy will be done. kjg 18/19 oct 2014 * Bedbugs Crazy lazy bluesy fluesy on the unmade bed Harlot whatnot wife or daughter crying in her head Torn asunder born of thunder love is quite well dead Where there's nothing something falters on the path we thread I don't understand the meaning or what life is for What relation is a station with a vaulted door Hanker after not disaster in the want for more In the alley in the valley digging for the ore Plastic money call me honey just don't mope around What's the matter don't like leather it's all over town Don't you worry it's not curry have another round You don't want to that's impromptu then go 'way and drown The streets are empty rain is heavy what a bloody night Here she's stranded pretty branded pretending she has rights Love might blossom but the chosen never hitch a ride Slowly dawning sex stands yawning where the lonely hide kjg 519pm 19 oct 2014 * Sci Fi Utopia The houses are painted like turnips Or Martian green Everyone has a barcode, And trackers up the nose Our debts have been forgiven, But who will forgive our sins? MJ 10/20/14 * no one sees my tears no one hears my sighs no one endures the silent nights life is a constant struggle you know it won't get better old age is the loss of things that we have gathered kjg 401pm 20 oct 2014 * Weather Report The clouds above us, all plasma before a Nor’easter. Let the silver rain fall. I am the flute of the hurricane, washing, scrubbing, Emptying the burden basket. MJ 21 Oct 1014 * new horizon i saw the new horizon glowing with the sun it gathered an endeavor that cannot be undone we worship what we offer upon the alter stone the sacrifice is truly what brings the baby home there have to be three wise men i know there is a star they didn't come for nothing they didn't come this far do you keep this sailor hanging because he cannot swim or do you give him to the devil because he failed to sin it's all so very simple we codify the fact that sometimes in the offing we cannot really act so pray for me a prayer and cover me in blood the moment of redemption is smitten by the flood the sun is rising higher in the firmament of time i truly am no saviour i lost it in my prime i saw the new horizon i was frightened like a child when the light of darkness wakes you the future can't be mild kjg 309am 22 oct 2014 * lover's epitaph don't you think you are presumptuous digging up my grave what wasn't there before really can't be saved it's a hell of a commitment when the gun provides a clue don't you think you better leave it and forget the life you slew kjg 330am 22 oct 2014 * epigram i was never one to offer something so sincere if the cross we bear's too heavy it's beyond repair don't offer a solution there's no credit there a well struck hammer doesn't just fall anywhere kjg 337am 22 oct 2014 * crime scene it never came to mind that you were so inclined the night rained heavy darts of acid on the carts hauling goods to market somewhere in the darkness a siren spiked the madness the blood was on the carpet there was no escape but treason erasing level reason i just walked away and pondered the night that was so plundered so if i'm asked just to be kind it never came to mind kjg 412am 22 oct 2014 * 22 October 2014, Ottawa, Canada how do you deal with it how do you deal with drawing guard duty at the cenotaph and a deranged killer comes along and murders you how do you deal with it dying not in battle but at home guarding the grave of the unknown soldier how do you deal with it no one can shrug their shoulders anymore saying it's not my concern it's everyone's concern one soldier dying while on duty guarding peace how do you deal with it a vicious slaughter of the innocent some just cannot understand how do you deal with those who would be so insecure that they would have to embrace anger hatred and killing to get themselves a "life" a purpose that is no purpose but destruction of something they cannot handle freedom how do you deal with it kjg 426pm 22 oct 2014 * Space Strawberries My heart secret among the constellations Or between the color bands of the rainbow Where human eyes cannot discern I have picked strawberries for the overlords Who buzz my brain with their tea cup spaceships But I launch beyond them, Into the insolent silence Where all know the truth but don’t speak it. MJ 22 Oct 2014 * Splash inner sanctum full of hokum who's got gumption don't be munchin' on a wafer fear the saviour dunno why i ought to cry no one figured only sniggered there's the laughter there's the lie devil take me gardener's rake me dry leaves falling snow is calling oh what madness try to redress old conclusions restitutions obladioblada what we are is what we are wish upon a morning star mumble abracadabra there you are kjg 23 oct 2014 * Coloring the Indian Chief A Past Life Recall Poem The weather on the porch must have Been like New World corn, sweet and filled with sun. She spilled the crayons across wood painted An amnesiac grey: red for power, blue for armor, Yellow to grow to sunflower heights and opened Her coloring book, with knowing hands. "Who's this?" She asked her mother. "An Indian chief," her mother replied, Her voice all azure and white cotton, with perhaps a touch of oatmeal. Her mother smelled like sugar, warmed on the stove and caramelized. "Color him." Her mother advised. "I will," I will replied, knowing the man with the empty feathers had been her father In a place where they had vanished to hide in turquoise caves. She spilled her hues and colored boldly, outside the lines, Outside three dimensions, in fact. Finally, showing her mother the wind and earth strokes, The streams of water running through the man, and the garnet flames At his core, she proclaimed, "Look at him! Look at me! I remember the way the sun remembers to rise and warm my skin." MJ 23 Oct 2014 * plank in the eye why lie hurts kjg 120am 24 oct 2014 * From the Sky Bible Plank in my third eye, I do a double backflip with a twist Off the galactic balance beam, Landing shy of the abyss, And my crash landing Knocks it loose. Plank in my third eye, Meteorite oasis. Shaken loose, Builds the forests of Laurasia. The plank that impregnated Me better with eons of emerald. Johnny Appleseed didn’t seed this Earth, But he was kin. MJ 24 Oct 2014 * paranoia they're hiding in the alleys they're hiding in the street they're hiding in the open they're hiding in the sheets they're hiding in our flowers they're hiding in our dung they're hiding in a suitcase they're hiding in the sun they're hiding in the river they're hiding in the park they're hiding in the pine cones they're hiding in the dark they're hiding in our closets they're hiding in your hair they're hiding in the basement they're hiding everywhere oh come what have we done to fear the sun and be on the run they're hiding in the kitchens they're hiding in the food they're hiding in the trashbins they're hiding in the loo they're hiding in the answers they're hiding in the quest they're hiding in your pocket they're hiding 'mong your guests they're hiding in the future they're hiding in the past they're hiding where we party they're hiding where we fast they're hiding in the open they're hiding at the fair they're hiding in the oven they're hiding everywhere oh come what have we done to fear the sun and be on the run kjg 326pm 24 oct 2014 * Halloween heaven-scape Flipflops Stomaches Sweet Potato cakes Angels ride my broom MJ 25 Oct 2014 * not all soldiers are heroes about in the morning june 1990 i was walking to work cross the laurier street bridge that spans the rideau canal by the national defence headquarters when i noticed five military officers laughing like hyenas and pointing to something down the street i looked and saw across the street a stoned person tightrope walking on the railing of the bridge swaying back and forth trying to keep his balance i looked at the officers and thought why aren't they doing anything but holding their guts almost rolling on the street with howls of laughter then i put down my briefcase and almost crawled across the street at a distance far behind the person obviously stoned or drunk and not all there when I got to the sidewalk i snuck up to him from behind grabbed his belt and pulled him to the ground he fell on top of me then got up ran to the backpack he had left at the end of the bridge and got out a knife at that point i noticed the military officers had run into headquarters and i thought they would by now have phoned the police but no police came the guy came at me with the knife when i confronted him he backed off i yelled at him to leave the bridge that i was giving him a second chance by not getting him arrested he stopped in his tracks put the knife away and picked up his bags and wandered away i watched him for a bit then crossed the street almost getting hit by a car retrieved my briefcase and went to work where i reported the incident to the colonel i was working for after making some inquiries he said those officers could not be located i said that's ok i did what i had to do and had five witnesses who for the rest of their lives will realize what cowards they are kjg 2 am 26 oct 2014 * Halloween heaven-scape Onyx cat, my velvet companion: This kool-aid rain, don't drink it 10/26/14 * Day of the Dead - Get thee behind me ghosts. Unlock the event horizon. 10/27 * the great attractor nothing reproduces by itself it has to attract other atoms to perform the task so to stop cancer instead of bombing the rogue cells we should put a shield around them so they will not be able to draw the energy to reproduce in other words create an anti-virus that coats the cells with an enzyme that stops their attracting the atoms allowing reproduction kjg 1149am 27 oct 2014 * My milkweed did not bloom too well this summer, and I missed its fresh butterfly presence. So, here is a poem longing for more milkweed and butterflies: Milkweed in monarch marriage: long distance love rubber nectar and wings of titanium paper, so light this traveler, so abundant the wildflower genius: teach me MJ 27 Oct 2014 * Tongue of my sneakers Wags Of the marathons to come Should they sprout wings MJ 28 Oct 2014 * hollowed e'en nothing really happening it's all some sort joke if you propose it's level i'll propose a toast there's rain upon the threshold there's death upon the door don't knock without a purpose that's what fools are for. kjg 559am 29 oct 2014 * skeletons there's a ghost in the attic among the dusty mementoes of times hidden sadly in dark mnemonic shadows what touches are fragments retrieved like a puzzle each fragment a meaning hard to unravel recapturing old failures drives darts into flesh the ghost manifested confronts a redress and dusting does nothing to clean up the mess kjg 1053am 29 oct 2014 * Diaspora for Sitting Duck and Fawn Mobster in our kitchen Slick, shirt of roasted garlic tweed, Nice, expensive. My mother tells him We are moving out of his orbit, Across town Next to the woods, near the bears And an occasional snake, so he can’t rent Our basement For another speakeasy, Call it a kibitzers’ club for twenty bucks More a month, oh what will that buy a Widow an anthracite widow? Pimento loaf. Wonder Bread. Spam. When we all know the world is growing dearer, And dearer, no, the for sale sign is our Coming attraction, and we will move Close to the woods and take our chances With bears, And an occasional snake, for her husband And my father are now really in heaven, which makes It hard to locate since the kingdom heaven is within, But inside what? A fortune cookie? A box of Crackerjack? We are alone, except for our calico Who will die in service soon enough, killing rats. Oh give me back now, all that was stolen. MJ 10.29 * Falling out of bed Thud. kjg 1110am 29 oct 2014 * Touching November Amoeba clouds, turn back your clock for no time's sake, November comes with a cape of mustard sparkles, and no matter, the chills, I wear grandmother's shawl, yarn of the ancestors sparkling still, each stitch a baby crying, a cub, a clan. MJ 10/30 * Portrait of Klaus for Halloween (from Klaus' Facebook Photo) White sun eyes, he glows in the dark, da Vinci beard and mane. Will he warlock-wander this Halloween night, with three Zen-coated cats, under a theater of the moon, greeting the denizens of Parliament Hill, and throwing them enchanted kibble? Or will he lie down to dream with the particolored tigers, in world that loves to see all as either black or white, and then project himself into that very moon, where tonight, the galactic beautiful people gather for their own party, while we ensoul the theater of it all. But surely, Klaus, with his laser eyes, will see behind them, into the central sun, into their flying saucers, into their sky-trains, into the umbilical cord that links every angel and ghoul to the mama multi-verse. It's all chutes and ladders between here and there tonight. Keep, those lasers lit, Klaus. MJ 10/31 * Get real spoiled brats Did you have to go to a garbage dump to get your food today? Did you sleep on a cold dirty rat infested concrete floor last night? Did you walk barefoot in open sewers to get to a private place to shit? Did you have to wash your clothes in a stinking polluted river? Did you work 18 hours in a cardboard factory for pennies to support your family? Were you vilified and spat on just for being different? Were you denied education because you were a woman? Were you threatened with death or if lucky jailed for opposing the government? Were you tortured when arrested? If not then I don't know what you're complaining about. Please shut up. kjg 545am 30 oct 2014 * arma...whatever alas we've come to the first of the month november will be dark and rainy there are mountains that keep the shadows dark in the valley of the ungainly there's a road that leads to a castle where the vampire bats are training the day will come when they cross the sea and claim the world they are gaining it's empty dark and hollow here i hide amongst the very few who know what fear will follow the devil will take his holy leave and the earth will be the crown of god and fall without much sorrow kjg 329am 1 nov 2014 * Bad hot flashes last night, and I was strippin'! Strip tedium Underwear oasis, But not Victoria's Secret, just Hot flashes, This Cast-iron stove and I have too much in common MJ 2 Nov 2014 * epitaph god met my liver and thought it might make a good snack if he leaves anything for the devil it will be my luck! kjg 815pm 2 nov 2014 * who do you bow to? the dawn comes early the dawn comes quick the nights are shorter but the fog is thick there's a silver lining but i don't know why if the soul awakens it's a damn good lie the cupboard's empty and your pockets torn there's no shelter from a man made storm we bow to buddha we bow to god we bow to anything we bow a lot the devil take me i don't care when he's got the silver i've got the pen it's all so simple what did i miss only the master betrays the kiss the poison's working there ain't no cure gotta laugh at something that's for sure we bow to buddha we bow to god we bow to anything we bow a lot kjg 238am 3 nov 2014 * Theft of a Shower Curtain She stole it for love of the full-bodied pastels the butterflies, the seashells, the Martha Stewart signature of successful housekeeping, easily stuffed under a hoodie, but making for the look of an obtuse pregnancy she stole it for it went so well with the chenille toilet seat cover and the lustrous soap made in China, and all that might be considered proper and clean. She stole it for passion to hide their wet lovemaking, for that too was steamy and pinched. MJ 11/3 * Fragment the mind grows weak the body trembles and the heart pounds heavy on the anvil of inception nowhere does it say of course the shrapnel of deliverance enters where the wound reveals itself in all it's glory the fire rages through the human sacrifice horrific in the jungle of regret i have done nothing i have done nothing i have lost the bet constrained by always walking on the quicksand of an opportunity to run and hide and shackle wrists and feet to an oak and pray for sustenance from gods too firm in the belief separation ritual does not conquer where the devil hides kjg 1252am 4 nov 2014 * Weather Report Lightning in the flora like a woman flavors of thunder from teenager to crone, the Freudian bullshit that happens to be at least half true — heart-to-heart let us be the whirlwinds dialogue to din to this indigo and copper-veined storm that will wash away the past and shield you. MJ 4 Nov 2014 * Calling Myself Names Let’s chat about the brief away, Adipose Madonna, your hide fit for candles. Great-grandmother Bread in the Black Forest. Chinese Noodle Wig. Maria of the sea, el mar, la aria of mermaids, today, dread of oceans rising and swallowing what a little life can muster, tucked away in midnight diamond mountains. Formerly my tag was Pharaoh’s Daughter. Now it’s blending turquoise and oxygen and all my days distilled in digital cauldrons, across all dimensions, space, and time. In future glyphs it will be Guinevere Airborne of the Precipice and Delilah Horse private to my nickname, effervesces last landscape of bees mourning the Medusa-petaled chrysanthemum, onus of the perpetual purple wheelbarrow, that spills its guts and drowns me again in ancient and far anticipation. MJ 4 Nov 20`4 * shine a light "who are you to sing to me who are you to shake my tree who are you to shine a light on a world that's so uptight who are you to ring my bell who are you to pry my shell who are you to shine a light on a world that's so uptight" who are you to be so mute sit upon your hoarded loot you want change but when it comes bring in clouds to hide the sun i'm the one who shines that light i'm the one who makes it right "who are you to right a wrong who are you to sing the song who are you to shine a light on a world that isn't right who are you to question me who are you to plant a tree who are you to shine a light on a world that isn't right" who are you to be so mute sit upon your hoarded loot you want change but when it comes bring in clouds to hide the sun i'm the one who shines that light i'm the one who makes it right "who are you to sing to me who are you to shake my tree who are you to shine a light on a world that's so uptight who are you to ring my bell who are you to pry my shell who are you to shine a light on a world that's so uptight" who are you to be so mute sit upon your hoarded loot you want change but when it comes bring in clouds to hide the sun i'm the one who shines that light i'm the one who makes it right kjg 1010am 4 nov 2014 * True Moon You don't make me bleed anymore, I have longed enough to conquer you, And now, I demand your secrets, my inheritance. Spaceship space-base wandering moon, stellar ancient, hub of galactic denizens, zoom zoom alchemical satellite, second hand light falling into my electronic chalice, I quaff it all every phase, color, and eclipse: I am watching you with new eyes. True moon, I don't bleed for you anymore. 11/5 * silly song if you leave me in the swamp i'd be grateful for a lamp i've a cold long way to go to collect the morning glow like a fly caught in a web i feel heavy as cold lead it sounds silly that i'll grant but without that yellow lamp i'll be drowning in the swamp and i'll always be distant from the love we once enjoyed it's a terrible decoy kind of shoddily deployed to so righteously destroy be on your guard i cannot part the quicksand's hard and there's nothing in the world that can ever be absurd enough for this give us a kiss the world is bliss so if you leave me in the swamp i'd be grateful for a lamp i've a cold long way to go to collect the morning glow like a fly caught in a web i feel heavy as cold lead it sounds silly that i'll grant but without that yellow lamp i'll be drowning in the swamp and i'll always be distant from the love we once enjoyed it's a terrible decoy kind of shoddily deployed to so righteously destroy kjg 944pm 5 oct 2014 * Lethal Weapon it is hard to be lethal when you have no weapon. kjg 325am 6 nov 2014 * i can't sleep the merry-go-round makes me dizzy the clowns are like wolverines the messengers of destruction flap their golden wings the walls are flames of madness dragons of effort reveal their shape to the savage mind delivered upon the altar or the stake i do not tremble without endeavour i know the future well it is hollow and it strangles what professes to be a path past the graves of time's repast nightmares need no sleep to last kjg 544am 6 nov 2014 * Einstein's Got a Girl Einstein's got a girl, a pretty Serbian girl, Einstein's got a girl, a feisty math witch, her spine a musical abacus, her whole body a voluptuous violin to tune-splurge, Einstein's got a girl, to mind poke, to spill her marbles, those swirling planets, those pocket jewels. Einstein's got a girl tied up in atomic ribbons and ardent geometries. Einstein's got a girl, all knocked up. MJ 6 Nov 2014 * remembered 1970 moment she said no it wasn't that way i said yes it was i was there she said you are wrong in your opinion i said i couldn't be why are you grinning she said boys are like toys and the serious ones melt like molasses i said c'mon now it can't that bad maybe we both need new glasses the november cold wind blasted rain 'gainst the pane and the windows just rattled perhaps it was clear we weren't so dear after all we both claimed the lost battle she said yes as i tied my loose shoe i said no i'm not leaving without it she threw a big book at the wall take a look i said no i don't have to i wrote it she said men are absurd they think they control the whole masses i said really now what can be done and walked out before the smoke turned to ashes the november cold wind blasted rain 'gainst the pane and the windows just rattled perhaps it was clear we weren't so dear after all we both claimed the lost battle kjg 1247am 7 nov 2014 * at the end of the line don't pay me no mind i just tend the old line that no trains ever ride they're rusted and worn it's been a long time i was young once you know i worked hard to ensure the train was on time proud of my job they praised me a lot but then the line closed now just an old ghost and me biding my time at the end of the line kjg 211am 7 nov 2014 * For Holly I infuse you with a thousand green springs, brush your fur, clean and young, with wands of mint, and swaddle, you, my grey-blue lion, in blankets of evergreen. Wake up to this promise. MJ 11/7 * Pondering the Abyss where there is a solution there is no solution where there is no fear there is always fear when you think it doesn't matter it matters nothing is ever solved when it is ignored roll the boulder upwards to the summit and your muscles ache leaving things alone you need not disturb is a good lesson one can wait for eternity for something to happen what a wasted life the audience only matters when you have something important to say otherwise it's cash on a cob belief in ones self is more important than belief in others when you are believe in yurself you inspire when you are not they leave the room a warrior never wavers in public he bows to his own weaknessess in private one may rule by proxy but a leader shows himself and does not hide a wise leader knows when to retreat and give the opposition the illusion of advantage peace is a shadow of war and peace replenishes the land for plunder one cannot exist without the other the poor man always pays the most freedom is the illusion of power the sword of damokles hangs over everyones head kjg 1031pm 7 nov 2014 * nothing he stared at the wall and saw nothing he angled his head and still saw nothing shifting in his chair he almost toppled over to the right side almost falling on a stack of books accumulated on the floor over many months even this sudden movement stirred up a minor cloud of dust how long has it been since i used any books in there the books he usually was busy with were on the floor to his left and he was lucky since this time he was at his living room desk with a steady chair and not the broken old office swivel chair in his much more cluttered study after all the livingroom had to be at least somewhat presentable to visitors that rarely came all of his aquaintances were on his computer screen these days he was getting old and no longer mobile as he used to be even a few years ago when he still used to walk ten miles each day and more on the weekend hip surgery changed everything and he still has no idea how he broke his femur it just cracked one day walking home with groceries from the store that became the difference between then and now now all he has left is his cats his books and wine and the wine is slowly killing him kjg 1142pm 6 nov 2014 * Thank You Inside words of gratitude, the universe of all promises, churns. Crack open merci, and you find endless lavender perfume. It never cloys you, and it’s always more than enough. If you want it, erupt in thanks, as the original alchemist learned, how simple the ways of creation, the heart, wears a purple sweater when we give thanks, and the brain, that command center, sends rockets of hoopla and jamboree and lollapalooza and oh my gosh out beyond the simple blue tablecloth of sky into the depths of space, where one great ear acknowledges our monkey business in the creation of all: you are welcome. You are welcome to have all you envision, and from the depths of infinite, scarcity is the greatest joke, soaked in the agony of a thankless thinker or a grieving of this tribe. MJ 7 Nov 2014 * last words don't pray for me when i am gone it's a wasted prayer i'll glide into the abyss like the ultimate betrayer i'll never haunt your castle or ask you to remember what once was life but will be dust you have your own endeavour just silently go on your way with what you think is valid my time is past and you are young the spring is your new ballet so come let old and young rejoice both have their own instalment in the time that is their greatest joy make the most of every moment kjg 743pm 8 nov 2014 * when reality sets in let's start the real revolution no more this fake occupy shit let's finally once and for all admit that once we take over we will be as corrupt as the ones who are there now laughing all the way to the bank kjg 1150pm 8 nov 2014 * Standing on a Bridge Evening calm I search the river For the hidden moon. kjg 755pm 9 nov 2014 * how to become a millionaire (buy a book) he became a millionaire by writing a book telling others how to become a millionaire a million impoverished people bought it followed the instructions yet couldn't save enough pennies in a jar let alone get the million dollar loan to make it work but hey he's a millionaire and if they keep buying his book he'll be twice a millionaire and they will still be poor kjg 9 nov 2014 * Haiku Standing on a bridge I search the river For the hidden moon. kjg 755pm 9 nov 2014 * november night thoughts i sit on my old porch wood slowly rotting away on a cold november night blanket wrapped around my frail body to keep warm yes i know i should be inside but the wine warms my heart and I want to see the brilliant stars light up the infinite dark sky so many years have passed so many days hours minutes spent doing nothing but tonight i will atone for that i will see the future knowing out there everything will seem the same why we hurriedly advance - scattered ants thinking we are everything in fact we are nothing i can think of other than a miracle we so adamantly want to destroy. kjg 131am 10 nv 2014 * Crowded planet: Save room for Frogs 11/10/14 Before the guns: Star-walks And front porches * The cougar picks a December rose * balminess of the brief night, they wear air and starlight Clan reunion: Purple thunderstorms And gray downpours Class reunion no spaceship big enough for botched royalty Class reunion Cinderella dances with Herself, sublimely * player piano redeems this hard song swan song on the player piano, play it again Sam * honeymoon kiss above the San Andreas fault we tremble * Harmon Geist Stadium, my father, a ghost among strangers marimba never arrived too tropical for anthracite home from the stripping holes hard coal dwarves balance beam in the living room, a swath of sunlight I fall off first star over the plastics factory, fairies guard the wood’s edge sparkle of fairy folk in my head, the fireworks from a tossed bouquet my golden cat finds a leprechaun in magic markers breaker boy climbing Seybert hill, how many breaths leftover? My uncle on oxygen Rolls wild cigarettes All is snow My parents’ ice cream parlor melted — They blamed butter pecan. Aunt Millie fries dough To sugar-dip Snow in summer After forty years, Back on Seybert Street, she’s the alien Sumo raccoon in garbage can Outside Harmon Geist Stadium: The American dream Blizzard-born The Aquarian hurls Icicles Snow banks top the covent wall, kids climb to touch the Great Bear The North Star Atop my beanie, I won’t wear This uniform forever Blue plaid uniform I swim with mermaids and skirt the sisters From Seybert Street I could touch the flag On the moon Kennedy hit Mother’s turns off General Hospital Kennedy dead We tune into One Life to Live Moon rocks How they might change the way We play hopscotch Climbing the nun’s mulberry tree — they could Herd amethysts MJ 10 Nov 2014 * Kitchen warfare: squash explodes, cook’s on ice HJ 11 Nov 2014 * oh can t tu[pe much. Noah Noah s Noah's art: watercolors MJ 11 Nov 2014 * my back is a crusted oak bending kjg 949pm 11 nov 2014 * old memory i played with your drum don't tell anyone your bed was a trap i tried to play taps the moon rose at dawn it illuminated your lawn the styx's tide was low so i walked through the flow satan smirked and shared a cup with a god who hiccupped it was coins all around for the dead in the ground "they are forsaken at last" god reclaimed his repast i tried hard not to look holy i wanted to talk to socrates only but the weather was poor and I had no time for the tour i went back to old rome ruined shadow of stone i did not eat the apple though you offered a sample it was drinks all around and the pope wore a gown i don't remember too much lucretia borgia went duth when falstaff got up he hoisted his cup and the jester threw balls in the memorial halls i thought i was dreaming but whakespeare was streaming on twitter no less the new literature i guess so i tapped on your drum and your dress came undone and the shadows grew soft in the ancient old loft it was there i remember the days of september where i wrote this fine song and we will always belong kjg 1142 11 nov 2014 * testament i was late for the appointment quite on purpose i might add there were angels in the alley and a rabbit in my hat no one knew me where saints gathered it was something of a deal i mean really what can happen when i have no soul to steal bring me paper bring me cotton bring me bitter wine to drink i will always be here waiting teetering on the brink so forgive me if i wander off the muddy beaten path i will never never ever quite surrender what i have kjg 911am 12 nov 2014 * The Red Fox, the Spaghetti Squash, and Little Feather Little Feather, know that the fox will play Games with you, did you not see the fox Cross your path on Berner, I mean “Burn her” Avenue, and that is how the red foxes Teach, we the descendants of gorilla folk, her father, The dead Indian chief, asked rhetorically. Little Feather tells her new postmodern self, Maria. But too late before she pierces the bomb-like Spaghetti squash in her kitchen of turquoise-stone Cabinet knobs and ancient wallpaper, the oval squash Shape-shifting into a salad grenade sending its vegetal Shrapnel in her face, across her neck, and hands, Stringing, burning with a message now not from Her guardian angels, but the trickster, this happy almost exultant fox. And now her darling kitchen is covered in threads of caramelized Sweet-steaming vegetable spaghetti, sticking to walls, Toaster, microwave, fridge and halted ceiling fan, leaving even The floor slick with the sudden puh of the explosion. Little Feather, he appears atop the kitchen Counter, “ you have forgotten all I once taught you In the gullies and marshes, So far from nature’s heart, and wrapped in your city, on the Edge of these devoured woodlands. Bring me sneakers and dog food in your dreams, next time And return to the fox’s university,” oh so yippingly The red fox demanded, as she cried out in stupid pain. MJ 11/12 * hope the shadows of darkness are formed by the light if you just remember that you'll be alright kjg 740pm 12 nov 2014 * Airborne and Destined for the Heavens The frozen comet, where the space probe touched down this bright November day, a decade’s occupation, from the first rocket to the gleam of the frozen, formerly solitary traveler: always risky games on ice, like when we rode the Thanksgiving to Valentine’s Day ice slides down the uber-alleys, no compass needed, we airborne, often our own spacecrafts of Seybert Street, during the Vietnam War, we fluorescent -bubble-gum- prayed not to fly off into some bone- bashing orbit, small, but ever-present, the boat-cars, the giant garbage cans marked the boundaries – did we hear the music of the bold heavens and want to add some cymbals? I suppose we would have caught comet tails and ridden the waves. MJ 11/13/14 * afternoon dream 13 nov 2014 taking down curtains for them to be washed or something then when i tried to put them up again i couldn't because the person helping me was giving them to me in the wrong sequence and two curtains were missing having been thrown out because the were torn i went downstairs to the basement to greet a famous poet and friends come for a visit and he needed guitar accompiament to read so i went back up to half curtained room to get my old j45 gibson when i got back he had invited many others so i went to get my other guitar hoping we could jam i also grabbed my camera to take some photos of the event until some people objected and began to walk out the poet followed explaining i was not allowed to take photographs because of contractual obligations and only certain people were allowed that privilege then being alone i went to a reunion at the constitution building where i used to work before i retired and the building was packed with hundreds of former employees sitting at their desks having a party i mentioned to one woman that she was occupying one of my former cubicles so we spoke a while until i continued on greeting other retired former co-workers then went down to the lobby cafeteria and saw five managers sitting together with an old school friend of mine who recently closed his medical practice and who was totally out of place they all greeted me and i asked my friend what he was doing there but woke up before he could answer i went back to sleep had another dream which i greatly enjoyed but can't recall kjg 401pm 13 nov 2014 * if the wind slaps you can you slap it back? kjg 412am 14 nov 2014 * Rescue Her White coal cat, Come into my trap, Autumn’s winter’s here, With snow coming fast, outside, Dear one, I fear, Through the great chills, Even with your snow coat, You might not last another blast, And if kittens you hold, all the more Motive to escape this inhuman cold. MJ 11.14 * power and conviction how the mask of torment tears the pallid face apart and refuses the sun to even lighten a fallen heart is it crass to think the world an evil place where war and famine extol the legacy of the'human race where clouds of pollution ravage what was once a holy land i fail to see how anyone can follow such a mean command such subtle fools the leaders of the world become when they fall into the trap of power on their throne there's a price to pay for everything the sages say i'm sure there is but how do you point towards the way that leads to betterment rather than decay it starts with purpose and conviction yet for some the purpose more than the conviction comes undone we plow ahead to our misfortune ever blindly on the run kjg 1105am 14 nov 2014 * New Song: never sit in waiting (they'll lie to you) you're huddled in the cold on a downtown street you missed the last bus you got frozen feet you're hungry as hell but the diners closed there's a bar down the way but you'll just overdose you suitcase is empty but you carry it well in the hope they might see you and ring a corporate bell but never sit in waiting that's the wrong thing to do if you sit in waiting they'll lie to you there's thunder in the distance flags flutter in the wind the pigeons are hiding they know that you have sinned the church is like a cloister you spend a moment there you try to think of something but do you even care you nod into a splendour a dream that has no past there's a tap upon the shoulder you smile and leave real fast so never sit in waiting that's the wrong thing to do if you sit in waiting they'll lie to you it's almost dawn it's raining you're shivering cold and wet you're huddled in a doorway and you need a cigarette you're not far from the train yards you could hitch a ride from there small town folks should never ask the city for repairs the soul is sometimes empty when hope turns to despair you might as well stop running no one sends a flare so never sit in waiting that's the wrong thing to do if you sit in waiting they'll lie to you Repeat v. 1 and chorus and fade out on a repeat of "they'll lie to you" kjg 1113pm 14 nov 2014 * Waiting Waiting five thousand years, Make that twenty, or a million quartered Like a pretty sandwich, garnished with Rose petals and served on a doily, That mandala of domesticity. Waiting saber-toothed and domesticated. Waiting in a promised sanctuary to End a distant war. Beyond that, waiting outside of time Where forever is an eternal instant: Dressing up as Godot for Halloween And ending up invisible, or frost-naked. Tired of trying on new bodies, new lives, Princess Garbage College, Garbage Collector, Medusa’s Hairdresser, Styling blind, Burned at the stake, nailed to the cross, Kidnapped, Enslaved, sent to convent And cave, always hiding With my lynxes, some fallen to save Their sister ape I take up my loaded gun, today, Load it with my library of lives And blast a black hole in the sky. MJ 11/9/14 * Waiting waiting for what for the end to come remember barbara in brest that day the rain caught us unexpected in a downpour strangers meeting randomly in a random street that was a kind of waiting waiting for the rain to stop the war to end we were all tired two strangers huddled together by happenchance do you remember barbara it was so long ago so very far away prevert wrote a poem about it you were wearing a heavy shawl and carrying a basket of baguettes my raincoat was heavy from the rain and the water dripped from my hat you seemed a bit embarrassed that a stranger should join you suddenly and you let out a little gasp do you remember barbara i cannot forget when the soldiers came and just before they took you away never to be seen again you called to me my name is barbara remember me they let me go because i was german soon the rain stopped and i went on my way to a little bistro right around the corner to meet a friend did they take her yes they took her let's eat we leave for berlin tonight kjg 439pm 14 nov 2014 * Justice the statutes of deliverance don't move they are solid forms like marble angels in the vatican proud to be on display only the devil can bring them to life there is no such thing as understanding there is only the interpretation the simple fool will laugh at anything the madman laughs at nothing the presumption of innocence is not a fact but a false accusation the cup is passed from mouth to mouth in the wild hemlock grows and is not poison only laws can make it poison and there is no substitution for deliverance kjg 517pm 14 nov 2014 * Moving Pictures Big Brother Brownie, Photographs the camps, true beyond true, The camera doesn’t lie much Little Brother Kodachrome, why Can’t I just be pretty as a magazine? Old Man Surveillance now, I look for the reload of innocence, in a dark dark room. MJ 15 nov 2014 * somewhere to arrive mortality like death declines destruction there is no skin to wrinkle in the action as grape to shrunken skin gives sweeter wine life is but a precursor to another line of thought and purpose that will forever link the micro with the macro teetering the brink of finding knowledge just beyond our reach perhaps death will find it death we cannot teach out in far space a probe prods a comet for the genetic building blocks to life the door may open or stay closed but that is here our life our reality is there another i don't know to speculate would be religion and religion's no proof just faith in an effort to have somewhere to arrive kjg 601pm 15 nov 2014 * when we die we sleep without dreaming and time holds no meaning kjg 1026pm 15 nov 2014 * paradise lost i drank clear water from an unpolluted spring the privileged elixir of the gods long banished into myth i walked beneath clear skies stretching to infinity a gentle wind hummed in my ear and tickled my nose i almost knew elysium i almost knew freedom but it was not to be as i approached the city dark and dingy filled with mud of wasteful centuries man approached with weapons what do you want here stranger you are not welcome here so i turned around and left them to their filth i went back to yellow fields of daffodils and saw the trucks coming in the distance to dig them up for a new development there was no place to hide they were not idle in their threats i was not allowed to be here either they drove me away to a desolate place they had already destroyed i drank muddy water to survive i roamed bleak field where nothing would grow i cursed humanity for what they had done and what they have become i will never return i will leave forever there is sadness in my heart what have you done what have you done you who once had paradise? kjg 419am 16 nov 2014 * Time Capsule The baby was coming The baby is here All grown up now, I’m yesterday’s news MJ 16 Nov 2014 * War "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Armies: Full are the heavens and the earth in thy glory. Glory to Thee, O Lord Most High. "Benedito in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest. " "Lord God of Armies" is acceptable to Christians? One has to wonder... kjg 311am 18 nov 2014 * The Evil Cherub Blue roofs and white doors On nocturnal Sundays, At the end of the village, a quiet white street in the night. Strange houses on the street With angel-wing shutters. But see how he runs, evil and Shivering, to the border, This cherub staggering, having Eaten too much candy. He shits: then vanishes: But his evil shit remains, Beneath the vacant holy moon, A coagulated pool of blood. Louis Ratisbonne (Arthur Rimbaud) kjg 1150am 18 nov 2014 * Eternity It's been retrieved. What? - Eternity. It's the sea fleeing With the sun. Sentinel soul, Murmur confessions In the empty night And the fire of day. The human suffering, The common wants Where you disengage And fly away. And from you alone. Satin embers, Duty exhales And no one says: finally. There is no hope No orietur. Science with patience No torment is sure. It is retrieved. What? - Eternity. It's the sea fleeing With the sun. Mai 1872 Arthur Rimbaud kjg 1210am 18 nov 2014 * Age of Gold It's one of the voices Always angelic - All around me, - The green explains itself: The thousand questions That are spreading Their roots, in the end Drunk and with folly; Recognize the trick Gay and simple, It's the wave, the flower, And it's your family! The it sings. So gay, so simple, And visible to the naked eye ... - I sing along, Recognize the trick Gay and simple, It's the wave, the flower, And it's your family! ...etc... And then a voice - How angelic! It speaks of me, Greenly explaining; It sings right now As a sister of breath: A German tone, Ardent and full: The world is vicious; That's so surprising! Live and leave to fire The obscure misfortune. O! happy chateau! How your life is clear! What's your age, Princely nature Of your older brother? etc ... I also sing, myself: Multiple sisters! Voices Not all public! Surround me With chaste glory ... etc ... Juin 1872 Arthur Rimbaud kjg 117pm 18 nov 2014 * Happy 20th Birthday, Laurel Happy Birthday Twenty years To you many more with pound cake With cashew icing in a long sheet Looks like topography, Happy birthday with an electric toothbrush That sounds like bees, And a laptop and crystal lamp: May the planet self-heal And we soon remember Who we are, across These dinosaur and Pegasus years. MJ 11/18/14 * September 11th 2001 That day the bombers flying Over our heads, over New York, Over the dead towers, Over and out of time. Where can we go? What can we Do? Bombers flying over our heads To reassure us, the Irrelevants, of God-knows-what- and when? Yes, we survived, But where were you then? MJ 18 Nov 2014 * falling star the fool doesn't move he's incredibly smooth he faces the danger as if it's a stranger he'll banish the moment without a cognomen so weapon in hand he keeps his bold stand and fades into legend a glowing perfection kjg 227pm 20 nov 2014 * Lavender and Peach Roses Outside the lawn is frosted The bright cherry leaves of the Japanese maple Hang on to autumn’s edge, each leaf a celebration of such light. And all the yard hunkers down for Green-rooted hibernation. Lavender and peach roses, I don’t Know your origins, you have probably Traveled by plane to greet my floral hungers. Lavender-infused, quiescent blue, islands away From love’s red traditions, you come to cool My fevers and succeed beyond the frost. Peach-petaled ones, your soft perfection knows No shout. And so I fall into your floral mouths For resurrection, oh, let me become you, while November howls Outside my windows. MJ 11/20 * Song I sing to Isidore: Hey Hey you're a monkey People say you monkey around But you're too busy playing To put anybody down... kjg 20 nov 2014 * Always wanted to use these two words in a poem, so here it is. The Ultimate Rhyme Acetylseryltyrosylserylisoleucylthreonylserylprolylserylglutaminylphenylalanylvalyl-phenylalnelleucylserylserylvalyotriptophylalanylaspartylprolylisoleucylglutamylleucyl-lencyllasparaginylvalylcysteinythreonylserylserylleucylglycllasparatinylglutaminylphe-nylalanylglutaminylthreonylglutaminylglutaninylalanylarginylthrseonylthreonylglutam-inylvalylglutaminyglutaninylphenylalanylserylghlutaminylvalyltryptophyllysylrolylphen-ylalaylprolyglutaminylserylthreonylvalylarginylphunylalanylprolylglycylaspartylvalylty-rosyllsvslvalyltyrosylargiyltyosvlasparaginylalanylvalylleusylaspartylprolylleucylisole-ucylthreonylalnylleucylleucylglycyltreonylphnylalanylaspartylthreonylarginlasparagin-ylarginylisoleucylislleucylglutammylvalylglutamylasparaginylglutaminylglutaminylsury-lprolylthreonylthreonylalanyoglutamylthreonylleucylaspartylalanylthreonylarginylargi-nylvalylaspartylaspartylalanylthreonylvalylalanylisoleucylarginylserylalanylasparagin-ylisoleucylasparaginylleucylvallasparaginylglutamylleucylvalylarginylglycylthreonylgl-ycylleucyltyrosylasparaginylglutaminylasparaginylthreonylphenylalanylglutamylseryl-methionylserylglycylleucylvalyltryptophylthreonylserylalanylprolylalanylserine rhymes with Methionylglutaminylarginytyrosylglutamylserylleucylphenylalanylalanylglutaminyll-eucyllysylglutamylarginyllysylglutamylglycylalanylphenylalanyvalylprolylphenylalanyl-valythreonylleucylglycylaspartylprolyglycylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylserylleucyllysyl-isoleucylaspartylthreonylleucylisoleucylglutamylalanylglycylalanylaspartylalanylleucy-lglutamylleucylglycylglycylisoleucylprolylphenylalanylserylaspartylprolylleucelalanyla-spartyglycylprolythreonylisoleucylglutamiylasparaginylalanylthreonylleucylarginylala-nylphenylalanylalanylglycylvalyltheonylprolylalanylglutaminylcysteinylphenylalanygll-utamylmethionylleucyalanylleucylisoleucylarginylglutaminyllysylhistidylprolylthreonyl-isoleucylpriIylisoleucylglycylleucylleucylmethionyltyrosylalanylasparaginylleucylvalyp-henylalanylasparaginyllysylgyycylisoleucylaspartylglutamylphenylalanyltyrosylalanyl-gutaminyllcysteinylglutamyllysylvalylglycylavlylaspartylserylvalylleucylvalylalanylasp-artylvalyprolylvalylglutaminylglutamyllserylalanyprolyphenylalanylarginylglutaminylal-anylalanylleucylarginylhistidylasparaginylvaylalanylprolylisoleucylphenylalanylisoleu-cylcysteinylprolylprolylaspartylalanylaspartylaspartylaspartylleucylleucylarginyglutam-inylisoleucylalanyylseryltyrosylglycylarginylglycyltyrosylthreonyltyrosylleucylleucylser-ylarginylalanylglycylvalythreonylglycylalanylglutamylasparaginylarginylanylalanylleu-cylprolylleucylaspaaginylhistidylleucylvaylalanyllysylleucyllysylglutamyltyrosylasarag-inylglycylphenylalanylglycylisoleucylalanylprolylaspartylglutaminylvalyllysylalanylala-nylisoleucylaspartylalanylalanyglycylalanylalanyglycylalanylisoleucylserylglycyseryla-lanylisoleucylbalyllsylisoleucylisoleucylglutamyyylglutaminylhistidylasparaginylisole-ucylglutamylprolyglutamyllysylmethionylleucylalanylalanylleucyllysylvalylphenylalaby-lvalylglutaminlylprolylmethionyllysylalanylalanylthreonylarginylserine Just thought you might like to know. (In case you were wondering). kjg 20 nov 2014 * The worse thing we can do is confuse popularity with substance. kjg 21 nov 2014 * Three Cats Sleeping Three cats sleeping A futon sleep, In flower-shape, One blue point, One with a stub tail, One a refugee of disaster, I rub each one like a magic lamp, blue grey charcoal black tawny Mustard tan golden And I receive the light of happiness. But I must not tell the world. They rub against me, making their wishes, still awake in Their dreams. This is the season of miracles. MJ 11/21/14 * indulgences small mercies in the oblique shadow of the holy requisition god will favour those with money kjg 321pm 22 nov 2014 * worthy cats are the wisest creatures they give no way their understanding is a silent chorus among themselves they give us everything we want from them yet hide the other 90% we are not worthy yet of their full attention perhaps we will never be but the attentivess they grant us is more than god will grant and that's enough for me kjg 21/22 nov 2014 * Domestic Fantasy Who will clean my kitchen? Fairy wampum witch. Pink bubble dish mush. I want To juggle all the citrus leftover, maybe. The grapefruit is a sun. The grapefruit is a softball And I’m a weary bat. No one will clean your kitchen. Hoist high the dish rags! We are sailing to grease. MJ 11/22/14 * O seasons, o chateaux, Who's soul is without blame? O seasons, o chateaux, I followed the magical teachings Of happiness, that no one escapes. Live long, every time The gallic cock sings. I will never envy it again, It has changed my life. What charm! it caught soul and body, And dispersed the efforts. Who comprehends my words? He's fled and flies! O seasons, o chateaux! Arthur Rimbaud 1872 kjg 540am 23 nov 2014 * Last Night, a Burglar-Wind Wee hours Burglar alarm sounds--- Robot voice announces “FRONT DOOR OPEN.” And again, Gemini, Where is Oz – Or Kansas? These winds Are too straightforward for a tornado. It’s no one. Just gusts of revolution. MJ 11/24/14 * The Gobbagutz Is Coming Driving up by Domino’s Pizza, he doesn’t Know this road anymore, although once It was part of his ten mile a day hike, that Took him to ninety, but once you hit those Digits the world turns salami: in his last days Your nephew Joe was fond of seeing visions Of salami, and even called himself the salami. I understand that now. George tells me the goobagutz is coming for him Soon, the gobbagutz, not the goobagool, The favorite salami ham of the gobbagutz Will come to get him, and he will come as suddenly As the speeding pizza man. It’s the angel Azriel And his crew, actually. Last night, the goobagutz Set off my house alarm twice. Didn’t know it was you. Sorry, you never got married, George. Sorry, you never had kids. But in some niche of heaven you and Joe, Who might as well been a son to you, Will feed angel food cake, To the sparkling birds. I am glad you loved the cookies I baked for Joe’s funeral, just three clicks ago. MJ 11/24 * three skeletons for Ralf Steinbrück three skeletons see not hear not speak not three skeletons left in dust blown away by time three skeletons with a legacy of crime kjg 521am 25 nov 2014 * what are you running from? is it right or is it wrong is it weak or is it strong there's a moment when the omen is the thunder of a blunder no one's perfect call the prefect oh my god what a rot they'll condemn it speaks a lot burn the city it ain't pretty no one cares different aires take the stairs with a flair no one knows it but it's there so what's the deal what did you steal where's the hideout in the backwoods hard to fathom what are you running from? so what happens hard to say even a black hole leaves a trace but forever's no endeavour the hunt goes on without a gun no one's safe till in the grave no one knows it no one owns it run for shelter in the woods what comes later isn't prayer meet the devil cough up goods there's an alley in the valley gives good shelter helter skelter so what's the deal what did you steal where's the hideout in the backwoods hard to fathom what are you running from? so the dice hit the flies there's a harbour where rot lies you don't get it so why sweat it life's a purpose no one worships hollow meaning empty cleaning gimme shelter how's the weather no solution dream of monsters in the office life's a broadway show for sale on the boardwalk so much small talk heaven help us no ablution for the awkward so what's the deal what did you steal where's the hideout in the backwoods hard to fathom what are you running from? holy moly what's the story if you answer you'll be sorry where's the raincoat why do you gloat the river'swelling the pawn shop's selling there' no telling who is yelling streets are empty there's no sentry where god's willing the devil smiles rollercoaster wheels on fire hell's a toaster what's deleted can't be tweeted don't be perfect cough up respect for a good bed so what's the deal what did you steal where's the hideout in the backwoods hard to fathom what are you running from? kjg 153pm 25 nov 2014 * moment one fine morning got out of bed you beside me nightgown red open shutters blue white sky gentle ocean sunrise I gathered in me like a dream sweet aroma coffee cream life is waiting outstretched arms your sweet breathing has its charms kjg 405pm 25 nov 2014 * Front Yard Kissed Blizzard yard, the time of Fertile colors, leaves you My snow nun, sparkling Blue winter, sun-quest, Kissed by cardinals, that flying blood. MJ 11/26/14 * For you also what disappears because of a theft never made and then a life to return to. For you also a pierced veil seeing the day blossoming with a resurrected flower. For you also a desire to follow and debunk the heart of a legend and then one night to dream it. Rita Stilli kjg 26 nov 2014 ------ Avrai anche quel che scompare fra le mani un furto mai compiuto e poi una vita da restituire. Avrai anche un velo da squarciare negl’occhi un giorno sbocciato e un fiore da resuscitare. Avrai anche un anche da seguire nel cuore una leggenda da sfatare e poi una notte anche per sognare. Rita Stilli * A Cock For Asclepius When they serve you hemlock, you might as well order a giant all-dressed pizza with anchovies and red hot peppers for your friends; and make sure they get a lot of vinegar to wet their thirst! kjg 919am 27 nov 2014 * old photos time gels next to stone MJ 28 Nov 2014 * My smart house says “ basement window broken” Banish the ghosts MJ 28 Nov 2014 * Black Friday Armed with crayons MJ 28 Nov 2014 * growth the hunger grabs you in the flask of failure the revolution strengthens then becomes your jailor the wood is dark and damp and mighty there is no ending to the muddy trek take solace there are others who can see the wood complete your only part is where you step one does not lead so much as follow even leaders serve to gain control the wood grows not by structured building but by the sun that makes it whole so do not risk a bold commitment unless you know yourself you know! kjg 853am 30 nov 2014 * Keeping In Touch I know I'm not in tune with the human race; But I know I'm in tune with the universe. I also know the human race is not in tune With the universe...so I'm kinda doing Ok. kjg 941am 30 nov 2014 * blue opal one world variegated in eons of peace Maria Jacketti MJ 30 Nov 2014 * Evergreen season I bow to count Gray hairs MJ 30 Nov 2014 ****** Published by Ygdrasil Press Copyright (c) Klaus J. Gerken and Maria Jacketti 2014