1-6-2023

 

Wall Epiphany

Let's take a field trip to the outer reaches

to look down a moment: see there?

What is that line that separates each as

two regions: us and them? A river perhaps? In error

one might think so. But, no. It is human built.

"From what fabric?" you may well ask. Brick and mortals

is one reply: A stone on stone structure of fear and guilt. 

Historical cycle trail is another answer--a dynasty portal:

Northern Hun raids followed by Southern comfort decline, some say;

But this all assumes an either-or reality designed to separate.

Until faith opens wide the border by allowing both-and a way

in. But, we like definition, so we crucify the both-and trinity spirit.

And accept a false truth about what makes the great wall

denying that it really is our inability to accept all and none.

10-4-2022

 i have a wall of cassette tapes. Recently as they stared

not so blankly from their wooden cases, i realized that they

contain many memories: some fond and others of dared

moments best left unexplored. Still, i was curious, you might say.

So, i started listening to them and transferring them from silence

to computer files, thinking i might find something to move you

to laughter or perhaps just a smile on your birthday. Per chance

you even have some of these recordings in a case of your own. You do?

Well, i admit they are like my memories that come up on repeat 

whenever we get together. i know in my advancing age

i repeat myself, and not because i am under stress to complete

my thought. The grooves that were once vinyl skip page

by page. The rhythm of the ticking reminds that the record is over,

but i let it go on longer than i should just for the soothing nature

of it. Warren Zevon, Jonathan Richman, The Roches, Cover

versions of them we played together. All passing muster

the minute after they were recorded, but sounding butt-ugly now.

Sometimes time loops like a flail: just to remind us who is laughing, wow.

 

Upon receiving a postcard from a stranger 

There was a time when i would get postcards from friends

and family on vacation and though the purveyors of the cards

always sold them using "Wish you were here" as the hook,

everyone one knew it was the seed of the facebook age's

"look how much fun i am having without you" subtext.

But even that had some semblance of love in the personal

message that came on the back of the postal missive.

Now i get requests to buy my house from people i don't know and

though Robert Frost's "Provide Provide" rings in my ears

I want to respond to the card without getting umpteen more treekilling requests.

In the words of Daryll Hall, dear Sender, you want "five minutes of what's

taken me a lifetime."

In the words of John Gorka, dear Sender, "I just want to make enough to buy this town and keep it rough." 

I know you want to buy my house and bulldoze it and put up a house too large 

for the land it is on to sustain it. And that dear sender, is why i will never ever

sell it to you.

Wish you were here,

Pluto Corsini

 

October 4, 2021

Upon hearing his intention (a fish story)

Perhaps you might try fishing today

And take your brother with you.

Or at least think of him as you cast away

cares of media deluge. True, 

it would be more fun to have him

with you calculating trajectory

beneath the October sky on a whim,

but sometimes it is enough mental rocketry

just to hold him in memory's orbit  (like the combination

Michelin man/mickey mouse 

once positioned in its dashboard station)

and turn it in your mind's hand and arouse

your reeling sense of humor's wing

upon hearing his intention not to catch a thing.

Brought to me

 A rainbow bridge over unbridled sea,

A cry for life after hours of grief,

A cradle made by arms for thee:

All this, my wife did bring to me.

An acorn's promise to shade the tree,

Days of summer, exploring for free,

Wrapped in autumn's bounty: a single leaf:

All this, my daughter did bring to me.

Time to breathe in what i see,

Imagination: my realm while reaping sheaves,

A prayer to keep the flock with me:

All this, my parent did bring to me.

My head made of cookie,

A boat launched on laughter's sea,

To carry me ashore to great relief:

All this, my friend did bring to me.

No dual world can explain away how sorry

i was when i missed what they brought to me.

 

The leaf drifts, twirls, sways,

and before it lands; I hold

it forever. Let go.

Palms open to the sky

Grow without remorse from darkness!

Reach sunlight and make a fist!

Own your living power in your   

Olive branch and dance with the family

Tree! Relax the fist and offer palms open to the sky.