My Type (a work in progress)

My Type    (A Work in Progress)

Where shall I begin

Flamenco dancer

Wet dream at  thirteen

Dancing up against me

Under the live oak tree

Shaking her red ruffled dress

Stomping her feet in the grass

Until I ejaculate

The boy at  Episcopal camp

Bedding me a night of mutual

Masturbation

Pretty pearls of metaphor

And discarded innocence

Hairless chest abs of 15

Eyes of wonder skin with sheen

Scarlet blond hair delicate neck

Presenting herself to me on our bus

Across the hills of Virginia

Lucious lips invent a story of her life

A month later sweet as honey

She finishes  her virginity and mine

Melting like ice cream on the cone

Playing Chopin all passion Botticelli's

Pianist with El Greco's  fingers

Hard as his keys and as white in the moonlight

Grace as he emerges from the salt sea

As we open up ourselves on the beach

Jacksonville

Six hot weeks of nocturnes

And so they go the images of my

Memory my dreams my existential

Embodiments Afro-American to Zapotec

Not the ontology of desire

Not want not need

Now my type dives  in over our heads

Flowing with  music  penetrating with words

Jack 4/5/'11

------ 

The Distance of Death

My parents told me in '63

Directly

My grandmother had died

A day before I saw  in dismay

An Ambulance take her away

That very last day

Of my witnessing death

For  the next half century

Death came by phone

My second grandmother dead in DC

My closest  friend's my mentor's murder

Another friend of twenty years  dead of AIDS

My stepbrother and my companion's mother

AIDS and Suicide

Recently my own mother's death

Her fall  my brother's call

Broken her hip her heart

Two days ago the suicide of a musician

A student a friend of my friend

Told  to me as in distress I offered

Neither wisdom nor comprehension

Jack 3/29/11

Senescence

Jack By Dar
Cloudland

Senescence

The flip side of the coin of adolescence

Is senescence leaving maturity for old age

Showing or not accumulated wealth

Experience learning wisdom all the

Errors of foolishness and over-reaching expectation

There on the spinning coin of life all the wear

Rim-dings of longevity

No longer does it matter what the young

Wasted  of sweet youth like thirsty dogs

Lapping water from gutters knowing nothing

Of  Veuve Cliquot in Waterford Crystal

Contagions consumed by youth

Become the medication of the old for

Rim-dings of longevity

Senescence is a mountain crest a vista

Our life stretches below over cities of the plain

From the pool of Narcissus we have climbed

With vertigo with nausea to heights from which
Our choices our deeds our acts of love of need
Are now quiet volcanoes  oozing orange
Lava flowing falling into the cool sea

Senescence is like adolescence 

Bringing new found freedom 

Who cares what bosses think or family or 

Society when death opens like a warm

Abyss before us never a better moment

To embrace  individuality our unique creative

Being to add with ecstasy the final rim-dings

Jack, Vernal Equinox 2011

Winter Fog

Winter Fog

There is nothing like cold fog

Wrapping itself around me

Absorbing the warmth my heart had

Blurring my vision

Of endless bare skeleton limbs

The only thing moving in the fog

Is smoke gray on gray

Like a piano sonata conceived by

A deaf Beethoven the fog envelopes

Consciousness takes over the afternoon

With its own logic its mist eating

The light as its droplets grow into rain
The only thing lacking is a fire

A Hearth to hold it and desire akin to pain

Jack

2/1/11

A Gift from Paris to Savannah

Forsythe Triton, photo by Jack

From Paris to Savannah

Four gurgling geese

From whose  beaks spurt

Orgasms of water

Rising  wet

With wings wide open

Behind the geese Tritons shine

Horn in hand echoing

With streams of water

Sparkling in sunlight

Their arching rainbows

Centered is the white foundation

Basking in the sun's intensity

Solid bright iron ornate

With dancing storks

Beneath the wide lily pad

Above these sprays of water Liberty's

Sunlit naked breast offers nourishment

Jack-- November 2010, revised Jan. 2011

Sheer White

Sheer White

This is my whitest winter

Here in my white deco condo

Adrift on a white hillside of snow

Coated in ice upon which I lose my balance

Fall laughing into the deep snow

From my plate glass I look over

White rooftops as white insects dart

Then turn to fluff to the tiny bits of

Down from the celestial Snowgoose

Or some invisible snow angel

Wisps own the air the Sun

Has abdicated to the cold

The white keys of the piano make melody

Make the white insects of fairy dust dance

And neither ice nor mist melt away

Jack 1/11/11

Dispel Solipsism

To dispel solipsism

Sexually embrace someone

Of the opposite sexual

Orientation as yourself

--Jack 12/16/'10

Thirty

 30

Awash in philosophy

How can I know love

Knowing I am gay

Knowing that I am straight

Worshiping you having you

Worship me with  hands lips 

Cunt cock ass 

Mind spirit geist

Strolling the shore of

Polynesia

Eating a split avocado

Drinking a royal Kir to us

Remembering touching the azaleas

Of Savannah pink hot odorless

Sitting in the mud of the Ocean

Waves knock us over

Salt stings a cut on my foot

The cut is our foot fetish

Tiger shrimp for dinner

A glass of Pinot Grigio

Wondering who Catullus fucked

Lesbia Juventius in a threeway

God banging  Eve and Adam

Until their ribs broke

Ribs became piano strings

God banged Beethoven's Thirtieth

Piano Sonata with finesse

We picked a rose in Portland

Beheld Mount Hood's sublime

White Peak soft white as my beard

Jack 11/10/10

Inspired by a FaceBook challenge to list 30 things about myself.

Sitar

A Kathakali performer as Krishna.

Wikipedia

Sitar

Wind rips the leaves

Sways the limbs

As damp clouds cup

Flashes of sunlight

Shadows and sun catching

Falling clusters dancing through

Alternating patterns

So much of the world is adrift

Turmoil tsunamis volcanic ash

Cholera war bedbugs crawl

Death moves over people

Like the shadows over the fall leaves

A Tornado scatters our debris

And overriding all

Sitar vibrates raga in the stream of life

Meditation unperturbed of Krishna

Jack 10/26/10

where

Where

Doesn't matter where

We live

As long as we can see the stars

Overhead

Hear the sound of the waves of the

Sea

Smell the fresh air

Walk on the beach

Live where the water runs pure

Where there is silence day and

Night

Where time goes by slowly easily

Where the salt water washes away 
Soil of the soul's solitude

Equinox

Sun will set today on the summer

Our hot discontent momentarily

Dissipated in the rain and autumn

Air

Again we cross the line in the

Cycle the tilted Earth

The nuclear star the

Politics lurching from left to

Far right hurricanes in the

Gulf

Not since Plato have such

Actors moved democracy

Moved the poor the uneducated

He warned Aristotle who helped

Alexander conquer the world

Die and send himself into

Exile

All over again as the sun sets on summer

As fall arrives

Leaves turn brown

And our nation surrenders to the

Oligarchs

Jack, Autumnal Equinox 2010

11:11

Eleven eleven a m in a

Morning that will not go by

After a night of sleeplessness

Over your sleepless work

All night work

You love you say

As you cough and twitch

As I bury my face in the red pillow

As I remember at eleven fourteen

On a morning that will not go by

My night’s anxiety

How do I learn to let it go

To let you do as you decide

To let the endless morning go by

Without wanting to push the minute

Hand to a new hour

For now the way

The path the answer

Eludes me as the morning

At long last

Ends

Courtyard

Green swaying in wet

New Orleans wind vast

Elephant ears listen for rain

Ode to the Oboe

Ode to the Oboe (Or the Bonobo)

Two reed poetry

First mouth in position

Second meter ahead

Complete sin tense

Third express conscience

Give fourth ecstasy

Meaning Fifth fall back to

Earth     Hearth

Birth      Heath

Wreath   Death

Sixth sex seventh zenith

Finish lips moist

With eloquence

--Jack 

Under Crepe Myrtles

DAR Cemetery

photo by Jack

Under Crepe Myrtles

Oyster Shell sidewalks cross

Our cemetery of history

Death by dueling

Disease snatching wife and child

Cemetery of weeds

Myrtles' purple flowers

Weighted with moss

As if the trees were bearded

Watchers of the graves

The Tomb we graced with

Midnight mutual orgasm

Scythe and arrow above us

St. John's golden crosses

Testify

planet haiku

bright planet Venus

gleaming in the evening sky

rarely seen at all

Jack 6/7/10

Hot Haiku

Fireflies and  lightning

Summer flashes arouse hot

Anticipation




Jack 6/5/10

Spew

 Photo from AP

Spew

The hottest flow on Earth is Eyjafjallajökull

Ash lava molten rock a spill 

Of magma clouding the atmosphere until

Jets cease their flights to Albion

All the while gushing down below

Black oil making the Gulf of Mexico

Abyss of death crude poison flow

To darken Earth's oceans with pollution

All the while our spokesmen spew

Hypocrisy and spread their filth anew

Rimming rentboys as they frame lewd

Laws for banks guns sex and constitution

What wrath quake whirlwind cataclysm

What recompense could ever right

Our sullying of the garden of delight

Our vile spew our deadly jism

Fifth of May

 Self-Portrait from Moma 

Fifth of May

As my partner in husbandry celebrates in drag

This Cinco de Mayo I watch once more Frida

Watch her kiss the goatee mouth of Trotsky

Watch as they climb the Pyramid of the Moon

Teotihuacan where I too ascended the Pyramid

Amid my youth full of love and dreams

Unafraid of the skeletons of Mexico's dead

There is no monogamy for old lovers or

Straight women for desire is too strong

Witness Frida's hair strewn about her 

Beating heart torn away as if by Aztec god

Until  in Paris finding existential liberation

Frida Kahlo and Josephine Baker dance 
Revelation freeing Frida from Rivera's grip

My partner dances in a bar called Heretic

As I wander past the blue walls and peacocks

Frida's garden of love and pain

My twenty years against her twenty-five loving

Diego

My crashes nothing compared to hers

My art shallow beside her depths

Morphine takes her through her day of the Dead

Wine softens my solitude on this Fifth of May


Jack  5/5/10 

Silence and the Stars

Silence and the Stars

They are  dead as dinosaurs

Silence and the stars

Like a wailing banshee

Sirens engines jackhammers

Yard blowers bombard with

Decibels our lost hearing

Blast away the essence of poetry

Gone from our sight the stars

Millions of lights in a universe

We can no longer see no longer hear

As mercury vapor lamps blind us

As trucks of the night dump their

Noise

We toss in a night emptied of rhyme

Ours is a world without Wordsworth

Whose quiet and whose stars were ever with him

Jack 5/4/10