Oceanzest Poetry (270)

In the great woods
you'll find gallantry
there amongst the tree spirits
iron and blood
which is without their need
will not invoke them
for a parade of souls
who paid to the corn god
for succession of evils
wilt away in the groves
and as day gives to night
the fire festivals
come alive
to sacrifice the bull
blood amongst the young
and the garlands
roll in the wind
as we scrape the earth
in yearning
but let us burn the effigy
for Adonis to rise

Season of Persephone
nymphs dance in abandon
to the will of Apollo

I walk the country lanes
rain falls as distant mandolins
awaken to a daffodil dawn

Mist holding in shrines
in the mornings it works up the valley
cherry blossom ripe

In the small half-light
where shadows fall
I saw you walking
ever tall
ever unsure
whether to come home
from the fields
where you do roam

Why do you wait
incessantly
to fix a date
where we will see
your presence here
is what we miss
so lonely times
I can dismiss

There is a bar in San Francisco
where there is beer, pizza and wine
the girls are pretty and the
people have a good time
the folks are single
happy and free
hope it stays
that way
please

Take off your red hat
shake off those shoes
we both know that
there's nothing left to lose

If I should tell you
while we swing and sway
I feel forever new
my blues just gone away

Meet me by the river
in the evening sun
there'll be time to quiver
before the day is done

And before its midnight
you'll promise not to go
and I'll know its just right
when we tie that bow

Take off your red hat
shake off those shoes
we both know that
there's nothing left to lose

purple light on the horizon
the days decay is evident
folding away like a passing storm
I'm growing older in the sun chair
tiny cold green bottles
the pleasure of lager leisure
when you're totally alone
the air breathes fresh
this light light air
surrendered to fortune
and when the stars come out
I'll drink another one for Kate
one for Julie
one for the dog long gone
one to show you never buckle
as damp as it gets
until the livings gone

You are in a room that has three switches and a closed door. The switches control three light bulbs on the other side of the door. Once you open the door, you may never touch the switches again. How can you definitively tell which switch is connected to each of the light bulbs?

You are in a room that has three switches and a closed door. The switches control three light bulbs on the other side of the door. Once you open the door, you may never touch the switches again. How can you definitively tell which switch is connected to each of the light bulbs?

Solution: Turn on the first 2 switches and wait 5 minutes. Turn off one and go through the door. The light shining is the switch you left on. Now of the other two off lights one is still warm that will be your second switch which is now off. The third is a cold light and therefore the switch you didn't play with at the start.

Ta da!

The corn is growing around my suburb
giant green shoots have come up over 4 or 5 months
its miraculous how it does that
soon we will get to eat some, steamed with butter and pepper
oh that will be delicious

Ode to corn

It took a 100 days
for a field of maize
to prosper in the sun
I'll be there
with a glass of beer
when all is said and done
to eat the seed
a worthy feed
a treat no need to shun
forget the job
and grab a cob
the fun has just begun

Sleepless in Senegal
beat virtues of the restless
renegade rhythms
drinking aqua-vitae
in the slow jazz sunset
whose citrus designs
leisurely desert caravan
has me drawn away
in clouds of melody
petals on the piano
lost in a foreign bar
holy western waitress
dancing for me
cobra cool
this chilled intoxicant
luxuriant in lime
just squeeze
and release
mad karma love

Faltering
the sound of a distant church bell
flocks of starlings
in the village
all men are dressed in black
proceeding to the grave site
I can see it from my refuge
high on the hill
in the weakening winter sun
who Matthews was
I hardly knew
whether he fought
I do not know
bound for the earth
all in his time
I light a cigarette
and going downwind
I descend
into the inky grey

Marion returns
from the kitchen
coveting glasses
1962 is passing
Chevy in the rain

I fan the magazine
feign interest in the television
Marion pours deliberately
a sordid vintage
Floyd Patterson

Marilyn was a tragedy
Marion eyes me for reaction
I shift slowly
with suburban malaise
missiles for Cuba

Love, love me do
Marion hums
this year I'll grow my hair
escape the city
Glenn in orbit