Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Curse of Nostalgia [Notebook]

Only a long walk would've brought me there;
gathering lines and half-forgotten rhymes, along the way.
What had I learned today?:

You've got to be careful with time,
never to slip back too far
into illusions, fully formed
although, remade.

There, upon the path,
I'd stumbled,
in making new memories;

turning left
and abiding to my right,

with History all around me.

`x~William~~~ copyright~ o6/30/o9

Monday, June 29, 2009

June 30, 2009 :

I sit in one of the dives
At Jone's Beach
Uncertain and Celebratory
As the clever hopes lift me above
The low dishonest decade:
Waves of empathy and compassion
Circulate over the brilliant
And darkened sandboxes of the earth,
Obsessing over private lives;
The unmentionable gossip of death
Offends the June night.

Accurate court-reporting can
Unearth the whole, bloody, offense
From Luther until now--Post-haste!--
That has driven a culture mad,
Finding Lindsey Lohan lacking,
What beauties imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and a million Iraqis know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return. However, those
Millions were occupied.

Exiled George knew
All that a whisper can say
About Democracy
And what Good People do.
The withering rubbish they spout
To an all-too silent grave;
Analyzed, by Generations of Boomers
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming Vonnegut,
Along with a Mismanagement of the Budget:
We must suffer them
In other more stately guises

Into this Swiss-like air
Where blind skyscrapers reach
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Soul,
Each wordsmith pours their vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an Cabana's dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
With Michael Jackson faces
And the international String Quartet,
bids us all farewell!

Faces along the bar
Cling to their sweaty pints:
The lights must be lit on the porch,
The music must speak for them All,
All the tongue-waggers conspire
To make this Arsenal-punter's abode
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we stand,
Lost in a hallowed wood,
Children dreaming,
Soft dreams of armies at Night
Who've never been coddled or shunned.

The militant clowns
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Newman wrote
About Alfred
Is true of the satiric heart; so,
What me worry?, aye,
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man who
Craves marriage, along with
Gay People
Not universal love
But to be loved as you would a
Divorce Lawyer.

From the Conservative Jive
Into the eternal life
The dense commuters come,
(Paying the bitched fare-hike)
Repeating their morning vow;
'I will be true to the conductor,
I'll concentrate more upon savings,'
And helpless governors wake
To resume their Sanford-like games:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach them when they're 6,ooo friggin'
Miles away!
Who can speak for these idiots!!!!!?

All I have is a voice
And, blessed is this
'Cause I'm losing it.
The romantic lie upon beach towels,
Of the sensual man-in-the-grey-felt-hat,
And the lie of Atlas
Whose statues grope the breasts of
Megan Fox:
There is no such thing as the next Day,
And no one exists on a pill-box;
Hunger allows tummy-rumbles
To the People or the Coppers;
We must love one another or Fly!.

Defenseless under the sunscreen
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, quite speckled, everywhere,
Ironic points of confusion
Flash out wherever TMZ
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and Erections,
Beleaguered by the same
Newer words and desperate prose,
Show an affirming flame.

[thanks, Auden]

x,William H. Balzac. 6/30/09

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Cinema Salad Days :

When we've gotten to the end
it'll be very easy to say,
these sure did hold up well

Maybe, a bit grainy,
in the subtle shifts
as the There and Then
throttles itself
Forever into
the Here and Now

We see the beanstalk
amongst the cabbages
lifting its lofty head
above all the rest

The smile,
ever a cock-Eyed optimist
taking in all of the Orders,

Who was it, by God,
behind the camera,
hands quite shaken. Could be drink;

however, we all seem so happy,
as in a holiday
Sunset now and the Chinese lamps are lit

the gatherings remain
with Love.

`x~William copyright 6/28/o9

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Well Read :

My degenerative eyes
scan the horizon.

Troubled words
waver to and fro
like dust motes,


and, lapsed Catholics.

My syntax
no longer bothers me. Every
is taken in

The bills
are paid

with closed eyes.

`x~William-copyright 06*27*09

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Neda :

For one brief moment
the veil was lifted
and, no more cudgels
were blocking your sight;
no more, chanting,
shatter the night.

Falling, from the shoulders,
you were surely
rising; reaching,

by Our eyes.

"Be not afraid,"
spoke a familiar voice:

....Swift in flight,
forever, now.

white dove,
to a song




Friday, June 19, 2009

Well. That's Hopeful! :)

Your focus drifts from yourself to others -- possibly to the world as a whole! Your great mental energy should help you figure out some new way to make a real difference in others' lives.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Seasonal :

there's some new grass up,
where there used to be dirt.

The Old tree,
in front,
tells a new tale;
in its top-most branches,
budding further away
from its Winter lashings.

I sit in my tee-shirt sleeves,
praising the warmth on my face;
writing of the ripples upon water,
the stories, within circles,

`x~William. copyright~06/17/09.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

"Poetic Analysis" :

Sometimes, you just have to let go.


"Poetic Analysis" :

I am the stone in my father's shoe;

the tall-boy
in the study

being crowded out
by the Elephant

The Living room.

~Love as always,

William. copyright~6/16/09. 3:58PM.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Reflections (Notebook):

It's all a matter of language and place:
each ripple of the water
leaves traces
as they fade,
from the surface.

So many skiffs have traversed the shore,
seeking companions;
stargazers, with compass in hand.

Each day,
truly is a journey.

The landlubber sees beauty in this.

`x~William. copyright~6/12/09