This is kind of complicated. I have to large poems each about one hundred and fifty pages.
Back 2 the StudiO, 2003, and All One, revolving, 2006.
I searched the words, Sun, Hero, Star, in each of them and came up with similar poems. I'm analyzing them now to reduce them even more to an essence that they share. Each step of the way has its meanings.
Back 2 the StudiO, 2003, and All One, revolving, 2006.
I searched the words, Sun, Hero, Star, in each of them and came up with similar poems. I'm analyzing them now to reduce them even more to an essence that they share. Each step of the way has its meanings.
Sun, Hero, Star
Sun
and the leaves come green
and the outer blaring of day!
Yes, the sun’s ray
diamonded reality
all turning--
and in making our reality,
this figure in the sun
this man made of weather
creating, some machine
to send everything
through, this self,
ordering the clouds
of leaves, the sound of waves
the glimpses he’d had
his fiction, the as if—
the goings around with the sun—
through the night
out there that bird
that tree
disappearing
sun comes up, sun
goes down, was his first thought
with star
spinning
remembered the process--
it's life!
of diamond harlequin
height-- in the sun
the blood in the eyes
the red reality
the tragic comic trajectory
that famous sun
tic-toc—ing time
why he wanted to paint from, here
the slug horn blown
the red sky
the new sun rising
the arriving king
Saint Crispin day
the sun going down
THE City
One HUNERT degrees now
just warming up
he wouldn’t mind leaving
he thought he wanted to draw a leaf
such a far fetched idea?
the beauty in that order-- though
urban crunch, Man, they are nuts,
“the pressure of reality,” he said
THE comic tragic seriousness
staking one's life on, meaning
some, thing or cycle of being
or just the sun
terrible and gay
he held the flower, held it up to the sun
as it set once again
Achilles, stood in black
sun shield shimmer
that was his dream
going back into, the coming back
what boon?
he was off once more
into the wood, in search
of interior paramour
the realizing realities
informing the outer hugeness
of Davy Crocket POEM
of what never really was
what was always nearly at an end
this myth in the sun
the failing moments-- gone
he had been there
Hero
the hero of DAY, of JANGLING
crystalline BEAUTY!
there! He said it-- out loud!
others over heard--
OH HEAR!, it darts and stings
what they called HERo
in his “as if--” world
he made a mark on the wall,
another, they added up
to something
there in the dark studio--
among the stars
hero sun and sun smeared villa
the red walls,
the bird flies across the floor
then there hi up--
a Silhouette, black.
in the distance
the mountain
stream tumbling
GREY leaves, jimble and jump
scatter, as before
the clouds, pass, pass--
sliding over the top
all the poems
inner forms, repeated
over and over in HIS notebook
cartoon shapes tumbling
It starts with the SUN!
identifies the HERO!
the light
each day, the light the
hero from the east
sun comes up
the sun goes down
this natural fact
in that indifferent sky,
that he loved!
All the aspen eyes
just stared, they had no disbelief
the smoking plume--
blown to blank--
thoughts--
smoke, drift hero of wasting day
the lowering globe
the scattering slate
the weird invigorating tint of sky
the oldest, best part
American Hero, he was
always arriving
that, regalier in racoon hat and pajamas
"by the shores of gitchy goomy,
by the shining big sea water"
this land is your land
the flat footed hero,
QuestinG! Her Majesty's Bounty!
through the waves!, Ahab, Ha!
thrusting-- forth!
Red is not just reD,
a heightening to RED, red then for
loss another red of
eternal damnation
AND hell fire,
what an idea--
the fallen
Star
he fell into October
evening passed to dark
interminable stars
out there
that depth, dreaming creation
the nothingness of
the everything, returning
black, black, black
color in the dark
night of stars--
the mother of beauty
eyes half shut, he fell
back on his heels
trying to be there in the half light
hearing the frogs
on a wall, the black paint and
stars out there
talking to himself
looking out there, beyond
everyday ideal, the moments
failure--
drawing the two together
the sea and mocking bird
stars
sprig of lilac
forever rocking
incessant death, rocking
death, and whispering
what he knew he couldn’t say
that gulping mystery seemed to
swallow him up
the third year of the new
century was arriving--
the stars, ahead
and in the background,
the continuance
so, back to the studio,
he said flatly
the red villa walls, a dream in the stars
that bird flies across the floor
falling back and around
through, THE stars,
the STARS
from sun-- the flower, blue
clouds puffing to thunderhead
in eternal height tinged,
turning to evening slate and yellowing stripe
purpling and the black dome closing
to stars
round dipper star
heaven lit
star, part representing whole
that's it!
at that moment
all the parts
like all the stars in the head
of the Hero’s
chaos,those fictions of Leviathan, to
over see, this out of order--
the stars, revolving
THE STUDIO, it mirrored
his mind
in space
"Arial was glad
he had written his poems"
at night in winter
the night studio
stars for the walls, he thought
no home, with no flowered couch
but stars
no football game on Sundays
just shapes
and a palette of color
against or for the--
only comfort, in the stars!
the stars revolved round
behind the blinding blue
any movement, signaling change--
how can the earth be whizzing
‘round at this 23,000 miles an hour!
moon full
cold and ice, THE DOG WAITING
IN dark bright stars
how to express this death
he saw it in the landscape
that distance
with paintings in his head
the LAST JUDGEMENT
on the WALL, Stars,
Out in the Stars!
leaves and fragments
of sun, in autumn passing
he was finishing the StudiO!
the garden-- he said
a last cycle, in the stars
the moon coming up
the snake across the path
he was home in so many ways
there wasn't a house in sight.
