Whim...!

a question
is posed..
touted as
most pressing as
our century unfolds:
Who am I..?

a phrase and cliche
proposes to reply
through the back door:
those talking-points
sometimes official
often serve to accuse..

the accuser
points to those points..
derides the masking
of original I am..
sad choice to repeat
health to reveal..

those points have
not just arrived..
dogmas of old
others brand new..
a sage once prescribed:
self-reliance on

Whim...!

The sage is RW Emerson in "Self-Reliance."  :)

Patience

this morning

this title introduced

through some separate

synchronous readings..

the question right now

how might patience

assist with this poem..

might it be

better to stop

stop writing just now

allow some gestation

some quiet perhaps..

resume in minutes,

or hours or months..?

hesitation quite brief 

and rough writing began..

still the end
that distant goal

an insistent completion

seemed to delay
blocking the flow..

did a fear arise

prompted by 

a finish out there..

that this poem will

never find ending..?

will likely end

as discard and refuse..

a walk.. reliable antidote.. 

there does seem

in those sometimes

an effortless flow..
other times 
impatience a mooring

so patience might grow..?

Big Bang

we all came

science does say

from a dot

a pinpoint

expanding

to all this..

but where is

that dot..?

if we say

where we live 

in our 3D

preposterous it seems..

if we say

in higher dimension

in our 4D

there would be

no space for us

no time or locality..

so we try once more

not 3D not 4D

but in between..

our universe

that dot is

 local in no locality...?

three Vantages

we start early

peering around..

the desk and chair

a solid nightstand

tire pressures

wheels always round..

 much later moments

a fleeting glimpse

from deepened despair..?

the edge of a shore

the evening twilight

definite something more..

then at last

we reclaim our past

this new vantage

a clearing light

immersed and within..

yet not entirely

our own...

the Ladder

these rungs..

on which rung

does one stand in

this morning sun..?

the bottom rung

seems firmly planted

in this shopping season..

black friday entry

frenzied desires propel

our seasonal excess..

season is dark with

light saving they say..

where is it saved..?

in bright windows

in smiles and trees..?

and we might ask

finding two faces

on this lower rung..

what faces are there 
in that rung above...?

the Square

a simple shape

a foundation

our stability 

our confident strength..

but ask we must

ask how sufficient

for our lives in

these disturbing years..

is now our time

is our honored square

more dependable

in a new light..?

dare we let go 

disconnect those corners

allow the four lines

to drift as they may..?

one mae become bold

more solid

more dark..

another fades to

a slim beam of light..

the other two

lack decision right now

end up comfortably

somewhere between..

then we notice

we cannot distinguish

which line dark

and which light..

 seeming becomings

before our eye..

 is our square

strong as before...?

Christmas Quiet

a quiet christmas

we expect this year..

travelers not arriving

just the holiday..

season shouts elsewhere..

a red poinsettia 

will be sufficient tree..

a seeming culmination

of early bells

an annual football

a brown dog

cats and icicles.. 

city lights and coastline

from a mountaintop.. 

excitement on those mornings

ribbons fleeting use..

these few memories

fill our quiet now..

but in reflection 

this quiet has not

only now occurred..

with gratitude we see

our treasured

 christmas quiet has 

through many years

endured...

blessing and curse

in this 2012 year

elevating consciousness

our illusive challenge..

 an evolution signpost 

on a circuitous road..

reaching this marker

finding new directions

depends on awareness..

locating our place

right here and right now..

worthy guides there are

who tell us

we are perched

on a precarious ledge

between light and shade..

other names suffice

for this place

might we say

blessing and curse aka.. (?)

then our guides say..

don't curse the shade

don't curse the curse.. 

a startling discovery

to be made

in each her own way..

at last she absorbs

the sought for blessing 

during a frightening search..

all along disguised

 as the accursed curse... (?)

Dispositions

we each
have our own
dispositions..
leaning we say
mostly one way..
one relishes variety
another finds home
in sparser places..
in those
high thin clouds
afar and away..

evolution now
seems to demand
that one and another
plan for travel..
recognizing at last
that one and another
are found deep within..
hastening then
to become the other
then with joy
return again...

Choices

we seem

on rising each morning

to plan our day

to choose best paths

for reaching 

each evening..

then we listen

as the wise ones say

our histories are

is not was..

time really eludes

maps with paths 

drawn before morning..

how then

might we choose..?

recognize the paradox

is this our real

and glorious

choice...?

Manassas

a foreboding
photograph
startles to memory
our war's beginning..
 this named entanglement
darkened and dampened
 the frivolity
the expected brevity
of our war with ourselves..
a blood soaked becoming 
of machinery and death..

the foreground a
cannon on wheels
replicated in the distance
and we assume
again and again..
these engines of conflict
dominate a distant
'tho insistent background..
the sun's
fiery reflection on
an expectant treeline..
coupled with sky
turbulent and echoing 
the cannon's 
forthright entrance 
with purpose unmasked..

this our battle of
separation for reunion
a Manassas pattern
oft repeated through
all of these
our rebirthing years..
flanking and horses
surprise encircling
a wall of stone..
agony and sorrow
the fever of war..
all to reframe
then to restate
 our collective.. sacred
 I Am... 

(Thanks to Lucy for the photo
and challenge...!)

Associations

imaginations

when left adrift

sometimes

lose a grounding

essential to health..

how might these

far flung meanderings 

be grasped
and tempered within..?

when we Associate..

delightful similarities found

but differences also..

unities spring forth

somehow easing 

anxieties of living..

stress retreats

and released health

trickles in...

Yoknapatawpha

all these years 
we have wondered
how his energy
is gained..
his lengthening life
those many details
swift literary command..

could an answer be
hidden here in front
of our eyes..?
a simple password
we've seen 
most recently on
that teeshirt in blue..

Yoknapatapha..
this strangest of words..
 more to be known..
the Chickasaw proclaimed
Split land their meaning..
but the Sole Proprietor
recall that pipe and mustache..

in direct opposition
saw slow water 
and drew his map..
this magical map
not geography not history
but somewhere between..
did he retain that Split..?

the Split remained as
dark territory below
chaotic and enclosing 
those good as deSpain
with rats named Snopes..
are we closer now
to a secret revealed..?

let's now recall
his penchant for maps
perhaps our key..
the story for him
without his map
was no story at all..
you probably have guessed..

this humble blackboard 
stands in clear disguise..
he rises quite early 
most eager to draw
a new Yoknapatapha.. 
our Friday map..
smooth water thus flows..

his secret now unveiled..?
can we now say what..?
sorry..most likely 
never and not..!

---CharlesC...Dec 2012

"History is not was, it is."
--William Faulkner

for Paula

a friend

from so long ago..

much to remember

here a few sparkles

from her stream of years..

first the boys

a pair as our own

golf and a phone booth

readily come to mind..

then there's Rosie

black and huge

we know for certain

mention brings tears..

from her Peak ascent

to Tucson descending

her parents care

brought comfort and Light..

to cap this stream

along came Greg

 his smile and guns..

a new horizon joyfully found..

this sketch is enough

but let's mention Jolene

mixing those cranes

with that Mexican hair..?

Happy Birthday, Paula

may this unpredictable

bright stream

keep flowing on...

Election

this new forked division

attractive to the majority..?

unattractive to the minority..?

perhaps not at all...

hopefully the birth

of a healthy recognition..

all must acknowledge

a significant new

 red and blue creation..

our common fleeting glimpse

of momentary Reality..

which is

feeding back

even just now

into the Light...

Stumbling

We do not

wish to be

accused of this..

an awkwardness

failure in life

mumbling our message

speech that's flawed..

our balance upset

falling and slipping..

but what of

those mistakes

those stumbles which

change our path..?

what of those

new insights

we stumble upon..?

a discovery made

when the normal

 expected..?

when only our

stumbling could have

led to gold...?

A November Walk

A breeze with a

chilling edge

contrasting a cliffside's 

bright reflection

a passing appearance 

 of warmth of the sun..

the flowing breeze 

cold boulders another

 downward flowing 

from some

 early eruption..

this afternoon walk

surveying my notes

suggestions of descent..

sunlit high cliffs  

wearing shadows of pines..

streaked cloud patterns

joining bare branches

pressing downward

 this merging of lines..

descent of the leaves

all fell in past weeks

now grinding to dust

by cycles and feet..

and then

an encircling band

the sunset

 red horizon all around
without hesitation

ringing the town..

November descends

this once more...

Resemblances

It is reported

that all reality

is composed of

innumerable patterns of

similarity and difference

all streaming from
a common source

a Formula most simple..

is our modern role

 one of discovery..?

the patterns we seek

 lying in wait..

 our need now

to find a new eye

new vessels.. 
building up

our inner
 resemblances...?

Lady V

when she arrives
at that V
in the road..
we wonder
is her freedom found
in the choosing
or the choice..?
if she chooses choosing
she is not free
for the other choice..
if she chooses choice
making no choice
ends her choosing..

does the V itself
contain the secret
the freedom she seeks..?
that V point
containing all choices
needs accompany
inspire and energize..
on her chosen path
remembering
she becomes once more
again and again
that point...

(With gratitude to Mae and Lady V for
prompting this musing...)

The Territory

in the Old West

territory a name

of the uncharted

a resistance to order..

Old Colorado City

capital for only

five days.. 

 territory reasserted..

in our imagination 

territory encloses both

danger and freedom..

these lurking together

sharpen senses

energies renewed..

we need examine

where we are 

standing just now..

is this the territory

 we must become...?