Mentality

I swear, this lake
Is like a bucket of crabs.

The mentality, you see,
Of a tall poppy,

Or like that dog
In a manger, spiteful

Human beings, why
Should they be

Happy, free, etc,
If I am suffering, rotfl,

I am the crab, I am
Also the sun.

Think of Death as Metamorphosis

Sunder me,
'What?'

Under
Me, sunder

Ing, ice & i
M won

Dering ,
Hari kari da

Ring me, fal
So low.

Live a
Little, learn

A lot, I hop
E. Cos

I'm not.
Cause I am

I cannot co-
Sign, o.

O!, o,o
Hooty hoo.

I'm under u
W, let's

Go hoe
E, i, e, i, oh.

If wishes were fishes
Maybe they'd do the dishes,

But probably not in my life.
I sharpen my spoon,

Drink with my knife,
And call for my fiddler's pipe.

The Sacred Mirror

There was a way between worlds,
He had a way with words,

Measured with every breath,
Hips and elegance, her very doorstep,

Surely I'm sloughing off responsibility,
Trading places for wind,

Pearls to a princess,
Highly unregarded acumen,

Don't you regret it, but the best part comes next,
Dying in the hallways,

By hell or high folly,
I'm either languid or jolly, living in the amphitheaters,

Crushed upon a velvet floor, a
Princess of whirlwinds.

Don't be pretentious, lazy,
Don't you know what slow beast daily?

Don't fucking look at me, I'm orphaned,
I will be, I will be, ... whatever

Holy figurehead half spoken,
Something in the way, hierophant.

Stephen Hero

Posted up,
Like a pair of paraffin dreamers,

We can say what we both see.
One fall,

As I remember,
I didn't care for them anymore,

All of those games in station,
Orbiting graces,

'That's genius,'
I am an American, the distance

Is relative, the space between
Somewhere and here

Observed by a third,
Only then you get perspective,

When they call it a lovers moon,
A satellite.

Le Enfant Terrible

The name is, 'The End,'
Beautiful friend.

Mutual respect,
My darling, the Abyss.

Death is consistent.
Shelter me then,

Before I cross over
The dewy lotus-banks in the distance.

Shelter me then, before I cross over?
Never shelter me again

Before I am eternal,
All the way down, shelter me now,

When dawn's footstep is still bleeding
In this town,

Before I am,
Before I am, I am now, afterwards,

When you get the meaning:
ETERNITY IS NOW.

HURRY UP PLEASE
It's time,

Time for me to be
Different than whatever it is you're thinking,

Time for me to be distant and proud.
Shelter me now,

Before I go down
Into that great night, and even thinking

When I would hear the Devil breathing
In the living-rooms of our mouth,

Faceless as his crown,
One name for every brow,

De Sade is inevitable.  'It is more
Difficult to love God than to believe in him,

On the other hand, it is more difficult for people
To believe in the Devil than to love him,

Sublime subtlety of the Devil,
Everyone smells his stench, no one believes in him.'

The mylar squeaks to me
Like a leather grin,

I'm further ahead,
I can lie like it's nothing:

Everything I have to say
Cannot be said.

Destitute Rabbits in a Cardigan Casket, Ile Fit Thee: My Mother-fucking Mutton Magic, or Many Eggs in Many Baskets, Tucked Away Again Like Bilbo in Between Some Book-ends, No Baggage

I didn't mean
To mean anything,

It's my fault I'm
Too so-so.

Give me
Pounds of suffering,

Wat?  Is this too hostile?
The journey is long,

And there's no jello,
So what, do you enlist,

Or follow the hellos?
Again the same

Existence, duplicity,
How many leagues away

And with what intensity?
Lightning strikes

Twice impossibly,
To talk philosophy,

I always meant to say
Copy me,

Come on,
Come on in and copy me.

I see some buzzards up ahead
In my coffee,

S-e-a-m-n, high art,
This is high art, post-Mephistopheles.

Ulysses

My uncle, Ulysses, is from
El Salvador.

When I was four
He balanced a broom on his forehead to entertain me,

It has since grown over the years,
In my mind,

Into a ladder.
This cemented him as myth in my psyche.

My uncle Ulysses and I are scrambling up a ridge
Near Red Cliffs, Utah.

Among the juniper
And pinyons, the cacti and red-rock, he says

'Noel, it's good to do this for fun, not good
'When you have to run.

'I had to leave my home
'Because of civil war in my country,

'They would kill me, I left everything.'
He had shoes

On his feet,
'There is no shade in the desert,' he said.

He told me how the people in Mexico
Were racist to him,

He was arrested,
At one point, and tells me how they relieved him

Of his possessions; he had nice shoes, but after
He was released

He had to pick shoes
From a pile of all the discarded inmates shoes,

His nowhere to be seen.  The injury to his dignity
Was palpable to me

As I listened to him.
He asks me if there are any poisonous plants here,

Like poison oak or ivy, and I explain we're too far inland,
And too high in elevation,

Echoing my father.
No bears to worry about, there may be a mountain lion

At the apex, some foxes, plenty of rabbits and rodents,
And the desert birds.

To our left,
The Red Cliffs, to our right, the opposite ridge and our camp.

My three aunts are doing yoga together while Ulysses and I
Are exploring.

We shout to them,
We wave, they wave back.  The sunlight reflected off the red peaks,

The light rain dripping on our heads, sagebrush and rabbit scat,
The swish of my pants,

Garden of the sun,
Flower of my world--Leeds Creek curl.

Poem at Lux Central

I would say,
'Rocky Moutain Air,'

But in what is only
A whisper

In my shell,
The ghost I know

All too well, in an
Empty cistern

Wailing, 'Here!'
Follow the voices

In the morning,
Veins rush

In fear.
What is this murmur,

Floating high upon the air,
My sister,

I fell,
Naught can be fleshed out again.

Not to be foul,
Or evil,

But this
Old-man came crashing

Into the room like a Fool.
A staggering

Entranced me,
The stage was set impure,

But flesh and bone containing
That ineffable cure,

Once again,
And once more, a pounce in prevention

Against a pound of manure.
Teeth smiling,

Apostatizing,
Cleanly cut the cords--exhausted,

The essence of a secret source,
Out the door,

Through the floor,
Amazed at the ceiling,

Gazing is appropriate,
Tell me what's 'in,'

So I can be
Gorgeous, or ignorant,

Either/or, I'm a ghost,
Lost hope,

Love is this:
Nope, you make it up

From this point.
Arrow--bow,

Upwards the sun,
Take me out of the corral,

Teach me how to grow,
Fire of old,

Mind of gold,
Approaching the deep-end.

And the voices on the wind
Shouting down again,

Willowing window,
Heh?  Tell me where to go,

Tell me where to go,
If you can,

But I
Already know.

Zeros

Ananta
The endless

Coiled around
Me.

I am
Like a battery,

An unreal squeal
Charging:

Yiiiiii,
Damn, this is fun.

One more line, for
The sun.

'The Scene'

Grumbling at the death
Of a better man,

Time and time again,
I mark how much different I am.

I will just say what is said: nafs,
Gamble with death.

Certainly ahead
In some respects,

Absolutely behind
In others,

But who
Keeps track?

At the performance
Everyone will dance--let it be said,

No one shall pass but them
Who have the key,

Turning in the lock,
Each can relate--let us be free

From expectations--let us all sing,
The tribulation

Is universal,
Do you really think you're that unique?

I stand corrected, as we all
Can see.

Additionally,
I stand correct.  This is the scene

From Austin to Albuquerque, Berkeley
To Eugene,

I'm different,
I said--turn me up, I'm me.

One last question before you leave--
If the blind will follow,

Tell me, who's to lead?
Blinder leading the blinded, indeed.

Veil of Discord

What can be said?
I'm merely exercising the demons,

Over-sized suit and duffel bag,
Guitar in hand,

'Allelujah,
Caught in the crosswind,

No need to recollect,
The Apple

Hit me
Square on the head.

Kallistē to the best of them,
To the rest--

Out of my way,
Let's see what the marketing will bring.

Poem at the Bean

All I can say
Is I'm a deciduous leaf.

I'm an island of the lotus
Eaters, waiting

For the spring.
Dug underneath: a stony bed.

Contemplating all of my sins
In Las Cruces.

The Secret of the Easy Yoke

The easy yoke
Is no secret, although

To some it may appear
To be.  Ansel's

Easel above
The trees, half-dome.

E.T. please, phone home,
This much appears

To be relevant,
This much appears to be true:

Honor your father and be peace,
Honor you mother

'Til she sleeps
Where the cows will graze over her pillow.

I was sitting underneath the willow,
Not lazy,

I am easy,
Not lucky to be free.

It takes hard work,
Less words,

More gleam.
If you only grub for riches

It's like the old raccoon trap,
Something shiny

In a tree,
Hold on tight, can't let go.

No one realizes until it's too late--
A skeleton holding a key!

A skeleton clutching,
Gold, oh no,

It was
All a dream.

Poem at Queens Garden, Bryce Canyon

Parabolic alta-vistic,
A pair of windows to gaze in the distance.

Anuit Coeptis, ever wonder why one
Is more impressive?

Every monument
Is a bit specific: equidistant relative:

Quadrant complicit to time and place,
Mere existence

Is more
Than enough--cherish it. 

Poem at Calf Creek Falls, Esperanza, UT

Flanagan, the name
Rings bells,

Let me
Explain this:

The shadow of the basin,
The wind blowing mist,

Nothing to do,
Nothing exists.

Tabula rasa,
Ex nihilo nihil fit,

That is my breath
And the spire,

Endless,
Sprinkled in

The vistas, the way
Traveled less.

Across me,
The tourists.

Picture this:
Lone wolf.

Let them fish
My body out from the depths,

I am long past the deadline--
Fisher-man:

Hook, lines,
And caste, fear no-man,

The endless task at hand,
Dividend is

Atu: X,
Or The Empress,

Nowhere is blessed.
Öd und leer 

Das Meer,
No Tristan, solomente

Isolation, convincing 
Vacation.

Sophic dress,
Hermetic existence,

Bringing home
The bacon.

Sego Lily and sagebrush,
Coffee in the hoodoos,

Sail atop the reefs,
You were born to live free.

Watching the Tide

Confederate flag flying
From the back of his Harley,

I'm sitting in Escalante, Utah
At the outfitters

Surrounded by fishing
Flies, powerbars, and nylon rope.

Two Swedes and their rented bikes
Are talking with him,

What do they say?
I'm just listening to the dock of the bay,

Taking my time, seem's like nothing's
Gonna change.

First Poem in Escalante, UT

I swear,
Every moment is poetry.

I've got 'it,'
I'm 'in.'

Eternal blessings
Of the goddess who lives, Diana says,

'Peace be with me, and to you,
What you choose.'

This is the life,
This is the way to burrow,

I'm dug in deep--Odysseus
Among the sheep,

My eye's golden fleece
Against the frail bleat, and

Ego?  I swear to stand
For the least.

Ergo my friend is
Every-man.  Now, what hasn't been

Bought?  Who hasn't been taught
To fear their neighbor?

I swear to one-god,
All for One--One for all.

One is all, all is One,
Friend, call me

Fire and fire,
The sermon of wind,

Flame and fleece, the one
Who gathers it, and

Chases the hare
With the ox, Aleph and Arnaut,

Blessed be the sun,
My will be done,

One earth
As it is with all.

Second Poem in Escalante, UT

When does it stop,
Does it ever really end?

As soon as the paper
Touch the pen,

How I've been,
And how I've become,

A root creates what
Grows up.

Joshua incarnate,
A readily available seam,

Tree of everything, subliminal
Or seen, seminal

Dream.  You wake
Up to the table, you see the same

Old thing.  It is overflowing
With the feast.

Same table of Jesus,
Same vista of Jacob's dreams,

Same scarab of Egypt,
Some holy-scrub brush, same.

Sego Lily and sage touch
The drawstrings,

My heart.  In
The deep of the dark

I find the light inside,
A delicate sight,

A moment in passing,
You were born to be free!

Now be, or keep undulating
Between the two

Worlds unseen,
Pillar of Mercy--Pillar of Kings,

Pillar of Severity--Mother of me,
Divine paring.

Delving into
The heart of the deep--heaven's teeth.

Poem at Kodachrome Basin

Of men and greens and
Greater things:

Kodachrome king.
In life I'm used to the finer things:

Mustard greens and lettuce fresh
From the garden,

Fresh eggs from
The hens.  The bare essentials:

Conscious of my blessings,
A good read,

Proper gear
For camping, no jealousy.

The ghost alone will whisper,
Such gallantry.

No cell-phone,
No distractions, Escalante Canyon,

Checking faces for beards, see
Mormons and

Laugh among us,
We are outsiders in a strange gust.

Transmutation of lust, property
And urgency.

No peacock
Among us, I am a rock,

I am an Island, let no-man
Stay cold,

Although,
I am guilty, for Ulysses

Was ill-prepped for the trip,
Tonight will

Be diff.
Obstinate diffusion of my ship,

My mind, I captain it,
I don't give in,

Hermetically sealed,
Quicksilver kid, panning for breath.

Dispersed Camping at Natural Bridges National Monument, UT

And so the day is done,
Thunderhead behind us,
Tent set up, juniper
Burning inside the pit,
Sheltered from the wind.
This is the land from
Bend to the Grand Canyon--
Pinyons, sagebrush and dust.
A raven caws out loud,
The last of the campers
Settling now, thunder speaking.
And so I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my dreams reveal me,
That thing I always need to see,
Some Orphic pocket galaxy or
Bird's eye anise, endless
Spiraling into the abyss.

AZ

I'm in the Chinle grocery store, "Bashas'."
A little Navajo girl is staring at me,
Wide eyed with curiosity,
And I am as alien as can be--
White male with jean shorts,
Baby blue collared shirt and sandals.
I don't mind her looking.
For once in my life I feel foreign.
I see the only other white people in the store
And feel some sort of camaraderie,
Even though they seem a bit country,
They are young and pretty and I feel an affinity.
 I can't imagine what it must be like
To swim in a sea of white faces as another ethnicity,
Though I can catch a snippet floating through Chinle.
This is Navajo country--hogan next to a coke machine,
Type 2 diabetes.  I fear I sound condescending or judgmental,
 And I may very well be, I am an outsider inside the United States,
This is a very new thing for me.  I'm from cul-de-sacs and gardens
And worrying about what you eat, all well and good if you have that liberty.
I don't really know how to end this, all I know is I'm on vacation
And even the regular half and half had, 'less than 1%,' hydrogenated oil,
And I can tell where it began because I'm white, and they're on a reservation
With over 20 varieties of artificial creamers and the little girl is just staring at me
As I read the ingredients and settle for goat's milk for my coffee,
Because the ingredients just say, 'goat's milk and vitamin D.'

IX

And as everything is in it's place,
The night turns into day,

The pattern of the whole
Damn thing--rudimentary notion.

What is known to me and what
I know it to be:

One, two, three,
Aleph, Beth, Dalet, Gimel,

As a string tie around my neck,
Suited up quick.

Indy had a whip,
I have the whole universe in my grip.

Between my forefinger and thumb,
The crescent strip--

A fertile miss--
The camel to carry you across the abyss:

Da'at.  You know?  All that esoteric
Shit, I forget,

Was it Yeats who said
When it all was gonna end?

Surely some revelation is at hand,
Fucking google it.

I don't give a damn
If you don't understand, esoteric is

Secret, secrets don't make friends.
I am the Hermit.

Once again, the feeling
Of bliss permeates my entire existence.

It was an existentialists dream,
Pure duality, an experiment

Dauntingly specific:
All that I have left like crumbs

Into the unknown, hold my hand,
Feel the bone,

A handle of conditions.
Curiosity glistens like the sweat on my brow,

I only follow my interests, now, Mr. Pound,
Procure me an audience!

I am high on the cliffs,
You vagabond--such a distance I see!

I sometimes wonder if you'd have
Defended me.  A friend

I feel across the ages,
My mind tells me with great efficacy,

I am my own damn savior.
Away in a manger,

No crib for his bed,
The little lord Venus lay down his sweet head.

The stars in the sky looked all around:
Lay, lady, lay--

Six feet underground.
By virtue of innocence I prepare a toast,

To Demeter and Pluto, I am a ghost
Heading to the crossroads,

New Mexico.  Smoke
Pouring around my home: pencil and pad,

Guitar and pack.  Almost a full moon,
Writing with a headlamp

At the hot springs
Where we were fortunate enough to camp.

What She Said

Clouds in Mexico for two days
And she's had enough.

Told me my name
Belonged on a girl--in so many words.

I don't mind it--the girls in Berkeley
Don't mind it,

But this is NM
On a ranch, and I'm the second

'Noel,' she's met, 'I mean, the second
Who is a man.'

She's dressed in pants,
Long sleeves buttoned up to the neck.

I have long hair and I do yoga,
I'm not even mad.

She said it so
'Matter of fact,' I actually loved it,

Someone who speaks their mind
Plainly--as it is.

As I am,
She is--human in the U.S.

Gila Hot Springs Ranch

Holy shit,
This is a real ranch!

A guy dressed slick,
Cowboy hat

On a horse,
With two mules loaded

With sticks and packs,
Rode by.

Such poetry as is
My heart--

Set apart
And open, that's it.

Poem in Silver City, NM

Silver City,
Guy on the street

Asked us for money,
'Sorry, no,'

Says dad.
'Coffee's one block up,'

He shamefully blurts.
We walk in,

The atmosphere
Is hushed--live jazz,

Electric guitar and voice,
Male and female.

I walk softly,
Aware of all eyes on me.

The barista is meticulous,
Greying hair,

Manicured beard,
A polite and careful old man.

I order my Americano,
'The glass

Is chipped
At the base,' he says,

'So don't run your hand
Over it.'

'Thanks,'
I like this place.

Open air patio in the back,
Thunderhead claps,

New Mexico--
Tweaker running up and back

The sidewalk to my left,
Ask's me,

'Do you know
Where I left my bottles at?'

I nervously make eye contact,
Shake my head.

He starts yelling
Twenty feet down the street,

'What the fuck are you looking at?
Don't fucking look,

That's right, keep
Walking, don't fucking look at me.'

Dad and I exchange a glance,
Gathered our things,

And left.
So much for that.

Aces and Eights

Express lane of existence,
Take measured steps,
You know the rest
Falls into place, ace
Must exemplify ace.

I Should Invest In a Parka, or Shawarma

The clouds are out,
The dog's away,
The cat's around,
No mice today.

'Pistol at my hip.'
Indy had a whip,
Between my finger and thumb
The barracuda drifts.

The sound of the drip, drip, drip,
Shattering syntax with breath,
My pen has found an edge,
Sauntering in F, in F or G,

Major chord, perfect fifth.
Get your fix, it's time
To split some wigs,
Let's hit the scene,

Follow the dream,
Make the heads turn
Round the room,
Show em all who's really who.

It's so hard
To go into the city
Cause you want to say
'I love you,' to everybody.

Just call this my Geneva ditty,
Pretty like, 'tenement window,'
Cellar door sounds like innuendo,
Mine's better cause it's gritty.

What's the Maastricht treaty?
Happy Friday, it's good to be
Alive, I'm not really a hippy,
Hit me on the hip when you get me,

I'm peacing, side-step the whole season,
I don't need anything to believe in,
This includes the 'law of attraction,'
Manifest some water for the people in Africa,

All you rich white folks, go for gold,
Go pro, pro-bono or I'm gone,
A penny gained is a penny lost,
They said I was a lost cause,

I lost a lot, sure,
Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun,
Nowadays, the kids do that just for fun,
Try and pass the time,

Enough's enough, I'm
Bye, bye, bye.
No hell can assail me,
I'm 27 and I will see 30,

And 50 if the fates don't disagree,
In turn I search,
Fourth diminished,
Minor three, disheveled

Appearance, kemosabe
Kick-me, make no mistake,
My friend, the house has the rake,
The fish has the fleece,

The goose is safe, at least.
I'm away from the trouble,
Away from the greed,
I only want what I need,

Calmly nods yes,
Listens to the unrecorded minute
Wisped up in his head, looks to sea.
Be prepared, things are about to get a lot more weird and void.

Like a wolf within the sheep I'm bound to reach catharsis,
Like a wolf within the sheep I'm bound to reach catharsis,
I dipped my ink in fires, and delved my tongue in parchment.
Cut the bullshit, you're cute, but too quiet.

A Lume Brillante

Call for my wine, now,
One decanter.

No canto,
I'll repeat pound for pound:

I have sung women in three cities
But it is all one,

I sing to the sun.
But as for you and for me,

What's said has been said,
And what's done

Has to be.
Now, what harkens here only

As an æthereal being, within me
Something quickens,

No tide of discontent,
No veil to circumvent, so much

That is, and so much that is less,
And what's left?

Anymore
I have no need to digress

From this--diligent sense,
Butterflies

In the mist,
My bed in the west--

Only the tempest of the page
For the true singer--

Play! There is
No wage you could ever bring her,

Really, who could even pay?
Whoever has the ear

Lingers,
Ante up, it's all the same.

I have sung women in three cities
But it is all one,

I sing to the sun.
Be it fate or merely chance,

I seek not fame, that fleeting stag,
But at my back

I hear the frail bleet,
From rags to rags, I have no need of riches.

Naked and plain I came, naked and plain
I will leave.

A penny gained
Is a penny lost, I will give it all back,

No matter the cost: diviner in me,
Not for profit.

It is all one,
I sing to the sun.

Death smiles back
Every morning

And at the dawn
I open the curtains, throw my head back and laugh!

I am on the free crags, who can call foul-play?
I'm from the mountains:

Two in the bush
Ain't worth a damn.