Knots

photo from
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quipu

Knots

Khipu colors harmony
Contrast the lackluster life of routine
Of nots
Of not a leader, not a nabob
Not rich not poor not flying
First class to Bariloche
Not Cuzco not Peru
Not young not famous not mother not father
So defined gives definition to this
Journeyman lover of one Inca
Poet thinker teacher seeking
Music rhythm passion epiphany
Weathered and eroding like Macchu Picchu
Wanting wisdom on a cold afternoon
Thinking of the rise and fall of cultures
So many knots unraveled
So many drops of blood secret secretions
In the aesthetics of khipu


Jack, 1/'09

Bouquet Obama

Bouquet Obama


What has it to do with me
What new flower will bloom in my garden
As this gathering of two million
As this multiracial leader
As this handsome bold man
As his regal glam wife
Walk the White House lawn

Will wealthy moguls no longer
Skim the cream from our milk
Will the mercury cease to infect fish
Will the air clear at long last over
The Grand Canyon
Between rich and poor black and white
Gay and str8


From my winter garden filled with eager buds
Comes hot desire for a full bouquet.


Jack Miller 1/21/09

Moon River

Moon River


Such a trite name for a song
The house I enjoyed that summer
By the river now called yes
Moon River
Who could have thought
Of such a vision a full moon rising over a river
A moon like tonight big round white
Obscured by a river of rain

We lived there that salt summer
Naked in the garden the postman
Scandalized we kissed too two men
On deck chairs facing the river bees buzzing
Johnny Mercer and his wife sweet as rain
Cto visit he tipping his Greek sailor cap
A memory in the winter rain

Moon River in the Marsh
Narrow at low tide I imagine
Allen Ginsberg
Sitting on the dock
Dilapidated dock and he before the moon
Buddha of the swamp grass beatitude
All the anguish of eight acres dispelled
Not quite dead despite the
Smell of marsh gas and
Cawing flapping crows...

--Jack, Jan. '09

House of the Poet

House of the Poet

Beyond the split rail of your balcony

Lie the Blood of Christ Mountains

Backdrop adobe peaks white as spirit

Rise before black clouds of snow

Storms to cool the passion of kisses

All the way from Peruvian Andes

By the mantle of your hot fire

In the gift giving room adorned

For Noel

What warmth can compare to

Fire inside when from each window

Snow and ice spiking downward

Lights your skin smooth and pure

As snow flickering with flame

Here in Hal Bynner's home

Jack Jameson 1/'09