Jack’s in the Pulpit
Inspired by Daniel Schnee
My verdant brethren of the forest floor
what need have ye for addling adornments?
Shed your dreams of sepals! Bare your fleshy
Yesterday, I learned the heartbreaking news of two men who were murdered and one (Micah David-Cole Fletcher, 21) who was wounded and is being treated in a local hospital, on the evening of Friday, May 26, 2017, in a brutal attack on a MAX train in North Portland.
The alleged perpetrator (who will not be named on this website) is a known felon, white supremacist, and provocateur in the Greater Portland-Metro area. The three victims involved had tried to intercede between the perpetrator and two young women (one of whom was wearing a hijab) whom the former was viciously assaulting with what was described by witnesses as “anti-Muslim rhetoric” and “hate speech.”
Ricky Best was an upstanding citizen, military veteran, and father of four children. Taliesin Myrrdin Namkai-Meche, a recent graduate of Reed College, was just beginning his professional life, and was adored by his family. Both men are heroes in the purest sense. My heart aches so for their families at this time of their grievous loss.
Written May 27, 2017, for Ricky Best & Taliesin Myrddin Namkai-Meche
On a trellis erected between my west suburb neighborhood
& the nearest MAX station the wisteria vines burgeon
into dusky purple blooms bursting with the dizzying fragrance
of a dessert wine but yesterday while I was out walking
as the early evening heat broke I noticed those sallow petals
carpeting the concrete in their waning just since the previous day
were already bearing the heavy imprints illumined by
the sun’s oblique indifference of commuters’ footfalls
& the signature parallel furrows of teenaged skateboarders…
“Trust me, you by yourself are not what makes everything so beautiful. It’s the combination, the coming together of all these different people from different backgrounds with different beliefs coinciding with one another, the interactions between them and the different products of those interactions that’s what makes society so great.”
Micah David-Cole Fletcher, winner of the 2013 “Verselandia” competition, performing and reflecting on his poetry on OPB’s Think Out Loud
My Dear WordPress Friends!
Thank you for your continued enthusiasm and patience with me! The joyful interactions that have been happening on this site have served to keep me afloat during what has proven to be quite an extreme challenge for me. You’ve made it possible, and for that I am grateful!
Please take a couple of minutes to check out this AMAZINGLY quirky, inspiring & POETIC video I found on YouTube (link below) to accompany my little ditty on Cuttlefish! You won’t be sorry!
Your kindergartener learned
a new trick on the monkey bars
the way you negotiate the world
by climbing into platonic forms
to become the myriad ideal bodies
of the sea floor…
I got #24 in last night at about 10 pm, so count it! It’s coming down to the wire here, and I may very well have dug as deep as deep goes, but who knows? No one’s singing just yet… Thanks so much for following along with me this month, everyone!
in a substance-less trip
to the universe yet to be
where atoms infused with
one and a half teaspoons of photons…
With thanks to Ken Gierke* for supplying the title!
When at the behest of a word
light—as in Let there be…—was parsed
apart from her swirling enmeshment in shadow
such that stultified yang stretched out
into a borderless yin-less orphan
only to be instructed to believe it was good
was the day she dissociated from her true self
somewhere in spacetime…
*Check out Ken’s lovely work on WordPress at rivrvlogr !
sleepless penitence sings the present inheritance
composed of feckless forebears & their victims
repeating measures in blood an imperative surging
the body awake at night…
What ails you, Keyboard Warrior,
alone & typing in your room?
No nightshades blossom on my screen
to face our doom…
What ails you, Keyboard Warrior,
with swollen eyes & bearing rough?
That tawny succor in your mug
won’t be enough…
born a bastard
i was cast
on a doorstep of nobles & founded
in a mold of changing hands
As a child I so loved looking from the outside in
at frozen images portraying quaint examples
of how time took longer
for folks in the olden days…
With reverence for His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and with special thanks to Robert Okaji for supplying the title that breathed life into this poem
Even when you are a one-year-old jumping out of your crib
(you have no reason for having jumped, but once it’s done,
and the thud you’ve made that was loud but didn’t hurt…
With apologies to John Keats
You know, you shouldn’t go to Cannon Beach
To brace for a flood in the parking lot,
Nor in optimism attempt to reach
On foot the corner store…