Thursday, April 26, 2012

A Hymn of Hucks and Hums

author's note:

You know you wanna make me--Shout!
Kick my heels up and--Shout!
Throw my hands up and--Shout!
Throw my head back and--Shout!
Come on now--Shout!
           -- The Isley Brothers


I like to think
that whatever I shout
or even squeak
is not lost, but somehow
reverberates as energy

upward through cloud
and ozone to wander
across the wild unfathomable fields
of this mysterious Universe

until perhaps
another sentient being
detects and collects
the transmission
that leapt or crept
from my throat--

a being that belongs
to a higher order
and thus can penetrate
the mumble jumble
of my hucks and hums
to recognize the hymn of a spirit
with a heartful mind
or a mindful heart.

Perhaps that's what
we really want
from those aliens we imagine
look down from above
like a parent to a child:

we want another to see us
as we truly are
and then to convince us
yes, we are that diamond
shining in our dreams...

I'm not yet convinced I am
but sometimes
when I shout, or even squeak
if I listen closely
in the mix, I can perceive
the hint of a hymn
and then, if only for a moment
I believe.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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Monday, April 23, 2012


author's note:

A recent TV commercial ended with a celebrity coach saying, "I'm comfortable in my own skin.

I both pitied and envied the man.


I think I know why
yoga was invented:

long ago, a master realized
these contortions
are just how our lives are:

we get all twisted up
in order to stretch
then must find a way
to extricate ourselves.

But I've learned to love
such problems--love
the twists of this
convoluted labyrinth--

yes, I now accept
I'll never be comfortable
in this life, in this skin

because once I've adjusted
to one position
I then turn the rack up
another notch...

I must.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
dreaming steps

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Monday, April 16, 2012

The Newshounds of Hell

author's note:

I thought I should follow one “dog” poem with another (see last post).

I usually don’t like to be so topical.  On the other hand, fear and pain are a timeless part of the human condition.


I heard their growling
and started to growl--

angry at their angry refusal
to see their own blind fear--

but then later--
  cooled by going into
  my deeper pools--
I felt my sadness--

my disappointment
at how we bow
to their bow wow wow--
at how they get us to bark
as they bark--

at how we scare ourselves
into devouring
our own hearts.

So now I try not to growl
when I hear them
trying to lower us down

instead I strain to listen
above my fear--to understand
our pain...our wound.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

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