ELEVEN GOOD REASONS TO CALL IT A DAY

we've survived these storms--

a breather in the apocalyptic wrenchings

that are purifying the earth

poo-pooing the mounting evidence

with trembling notions of science and rationality--

and I'm reminded again I live in a world

that thinks science and Spirit are antagonistic--

science is at best an apprehension of Spirit's will

to manifest in this world--as all signs of our Oneness

increase we cling to our own imagination--

blocking the active flowing of Life--and I live

in a world where those who hear this say

"blah blah yeah..." while bailing for their lives

before the next storms knock us grudgingly OUT--

*

the street sign says "bump ahead''--

isn't it always? and why waste my tax money

to make a sign telling us what we already know--unpoetically?

*

what I paid for was delivered elsewhere--

someone must need it more than I do--

who'll default elsewhere

to come

to my aid?

*

morons

I'm at the mercy of morons

so I say and so says the one after me--

I'm at the mercy of morons

*

I awoke from my Rip Van Winkle life--

20 years I begged at prayer a miraculous save

and only slumbered through a daily nightmare

of violence and eerie stillness--a mediocrity

of contingency and slow fading--

now old--awake--gone but of remembrance of a prayer

*

I conquered daily reality

I worked like a dog

gathered at the troughs with other hungry dogs--

but I dreamed of heavenly kibble

and so conquered one squalid satisfaction

with another--and still the eye out for more

*

now my bones hang a drapery of skin

waiting to be drawn

*

how eternal the moment

long long and long

so appear so brief

in scope of recall

*

a last flare for women--

their beauty the manifestation

of all body and soul could offer to Spirit--

holiest lust--the engine of this world--

that races when a man sees his beloved and feels

first flare for his woman--

*

my beloved

passion deepens from quick flash

to slow burning of lingering glances

and hands drawn as by magnetism

my beloved

the fullness of love radiates from

this contact perpetual once or a hundred times

a pole star for all souls on their two-by-two way

*

a rich deepening blue sky at twilight

is the last thing I hope to look at

when the door opens in the air

and I continue my way to the source

of all twilights and all rising days

a pale green and orange dawn on a shoreline

of some ineffable immensity

rays blazing across the water to bathe the limestone cliffs

and light the hazy beach in the damp glow

of this morning---

Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.