Thursday, December 29, 2011

Vertical-Thud Gift

author's note:

I thought this poem might be appropriate for the beginning of a new year... we look back to see where we've been, as we look ahead, trying to see where we're going.


How discouraging--!--
to receive
the unexpected gift
of being lifted

straight up--vertical!--
for a brief sweet moment...

only to drop--
to land too soon
with a thud--

how encouraging--!--
to now know that what I'm aiming for
is worth the work--

to know the value
of the slow tedious climb...

to know the necessity
of having something solid
under my feet at all times

as I adjust and readjust
to a perspective
expanding so gradually
but steadily expanding.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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Monday, December 19, 2011

Bright Seed

author’s note:

This seems a good poem to post as we near the Winter Solstice.


You admit to yourself
you’re dead

but despite how you feel
you can sense
some small nucleus
in some far place...

is not dead--

you can sense the coming
of a miracle birth
because in this season
depth has replaced excitement:

as I step outside
a single weak star appears
high in a black Winter's sky--

then this sudden hope vanishes
in a moment of implosion...

but the destruction of the husk
reveals a stronger light--

now: see a beaming bright seed...

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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Friday, December 16, 2011

A Taste of Green Sky

author’s note:

I meant to post this poem of thanks during Thanksgiving.  So again, my thanks come too late.

But I suppose our giraffes are big enough not to desire any thanks at all.


I hopped astride
the neck of a giraffe
as it lowered for me:

I wanted to feed
at the top leaves.

But as that ruminant
moved on, I lost hold--
I slipped back down
to the hard ground.

I've a rough way to climb
before I can reach
those leaves again

so I thank the giraffe
for granting me that taste...

for making my hunger
that much stronger.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
myth steps

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Thursday, December 15, 2011

Star Eye

author's note:

Poetry seems to me the best way to try to say what can not be said.  To try.


Sometimes I wish
I could ignore
that star eye spur.

After all, I found
my solid foundation
not in yearning for the heavens
but in burrowing down--

I wasn't even trying
the one time I ascended
into the blazing center
of that star diamond

but such accidents
happen by design--

that once was enough
to keep me working
to return to a vast depth
so high above...

but connected, I've discovered
to the rich depth far below

so I continue to burrow.

If I now say to you:
"I just can't explain"
maybe you'll understand
what I mean:

if you already know
how words are insufficient--

if you already know
how the held memory
of these brief events
makes one's fire burn
hotter, sharper
(even years afterwards)

then you must be a dazed fool too--

sprung maybe only once
but once is so much--!--
lifted by that blessed
star lightning.

(At the end of this lonely journey
 we'll talk together
 because what can not be said
 still needs to be expressed.)

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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Monday, December 12, 2011

My Dreams Are Yours, Your Dreams Are Mine

author's note:

"In dreams we are all geniuses."

I've seen that quote--or some version of it--attributed to a number of persons, including Albert Einstein and Akira Kurosawa.

But to me, it's not quite accurate.  We all make mistakes in our dreams.  Or, at least, our ego-self does.

I would alter that quote to say instead: in dreams, we have access to that which is genius... an intelligence that can show us what we're doing wrong.


Frustrated by the limits of my crib...

I try to soothe the wound
with the expansion granted
by nightly dreams--

dreams that are mine alone

yet belong to all of us.

I can understand why such wisdom comes...

but when I ask, "From where?"

the question echoes
without answer
down the tunnel
of a bottomless well.

© 2011, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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