Genius of Doubt

Link to February 25, 2009 sketchbook update- 19 new pages

Nestor 36

To keep sifting meaning, revealing
Until there is no more meaning.
Telemachus, fighter, I am happier than you
Born to forsee
The wife of sin
Struggler, sifter
Commiter to strangeness
Faithless to the King
To remain not
To begin to
Learn failure to
Be made in error
Then to learn the shore
By working the work of
A raised woman
you will not remain here very long at this work
You were not born to be a teacher.
Perhaps I am wrong.

The Book of Yes

Link to sketchbook update, here, February 15, 2009

Telemachus 27

Riddle, riddle wave
The lips, the cock’s
Tribute the coin of
the underworld the
sentence long it
lies, shifting, riddling.

Asking secrets crowding then
remembering woven, woven but
yes! The heart is offered to the
shadow.

Nous Sommes

Link to Setchbook Update February 13

Telemachus 26

In sheltered Bedlam
Satchel and knife jerk
To breast , begins a ghoststory.
A weeping, drinking,
Across the wildbridge- a strategy for straddling,
Itself the void.

A boy and his book
Branded by impossible envy
A history of breath disesteemed
Fed on silence, raised by Paris
Amid the jesters
And drowned lambs
Now a shepherd,
Now a faint hand.

Secret to Miracles

Link to Sketchbook update February 11, 11 new pages

Telemachus 25

The memory of a city or
Was it the road the way remembered?

Corpsestrewn hill swollen proud,
(That excessive, shitty phrase)
Thank god I didn’t die, there.
But what does god care?

Welloff daughters live with the flame
Of glass battling waves to
Get to port

To get to Pyrrhus.

The Grace of the King

Link to Sketchbook update: February 9th, 18 new pages.

Telemachus 23

A swollen sail
Waiting , some Boatman
Watches days rippling
Winding sweet around the
Breastbone and the lips the hips of the
Drowned young girl clinging
To a photograph of the day
She stood on the stone
Throwing money into the waves

Folding Stars

Link to February 7 Sketchbook Update (20 pages)

Telemachus 22

The void before Marcellus
Kneeling beneath his gods
Again and again asking for meaning
While voices of those
Vigilant angels, mocking
this rare chemistry.
The listening country singing
The cold masters fleeing
Surely valentine’s bodies waiting
Their Roman lances piercing
Applause within the fiber

Now all the detached apostles
Are left to blame.

I thought I was Feeding the Bird, but Really, I was Feeding the Cat

Telemachus 21

Jesus fluttering in his waistcoat
Made of stone and tinder
Sober ballad the path of
The senses narrow from
Here to creation.

Behold, God is in the stomach
The word calls us from
The bird’s hat
Quivering on the wind
That brought us back and gave us
A wavering key to the
Salt eaters, found at the edges
Of the salty sea.

Caveat

Telemachus 20

The halting tale
Told on wings
Rising, fluttering bringing
Smokeplume into freshened eyes

Reminds me of the unbound tower
A place where disciples joined
Then rose, tacking into the
Bright skyline.

The free and the divine made of
Fine clear water bade goodbye
To the pale salty sea then

Forward in fluttering instant
Speaking in tongues a doll’s head
Chanting: to the jewbird and the joiner-
Goodbye,goodbye.

The Devil Is Nothing

Telemachus 18

Stripped of gloves and pockets
Resigned to gloomy doorways
We have eaten all that was left.

Where hope leers, strolling
Out- passed away gravely sorrow
Among the leaningplaces
A Jesuit disrobes.

Collect the limp, empty rags
And turn them into rebellious missles
Hands to collar tie the tie

Voices

Telemachus 17

Look into the heart of the lookingglass
Miracles seriously trickling
Followed by a tender chant:
Find your day so blandly that
The washed slices of warmth
Twist round your rising.

Today expects intention!
Trying to find it in this uneager corner
Will only remind you
That there is no time left.

But you may find your heart will owe some
Poor old creature.

Beautiful Ruins

Telemachus 15

Silky Crone I serve her bidding,
Drink, drink charming bidder
Hewing, sewing, knitting
She knew the common betrayer.

The secret islanders
Blinking reaching pouring back
The rotten conquerer.

Her mouth is dry
Rasping sore with old names
Given.

The messenger: the favor of upbraiding
Crouching among the overclouded mornings.

Dormez-Vous?

Telemachus 14

A fancy printed blessing
Comes after a Paris morning
Like judgment day.

What sort of saying impales the
Pages before asking us over for tea?

Hewing the water a
Mother floats through the doorway
Quickly quietly
Giving you her voice
Fumbling her eggs
Sleeping with Jove.

Welcome Melting

Telemachus 13

In gloomy air- the rain is come!
A yellow (ish) cloud is over
A boat that carries the servant
From coalsmoke to forgetting.

Without looking I have
Also carried this friendship
From parapet to parapet
From doorway to doorway
Through fried rays of bright light
Now set ajar

Welcome, servant, here is
Your land of bread and honey.

Holding Down the Bitter Water

Telemachus 12

Pantomime heard through bitter doors the
Brain the song the
Offended morning shadows all
Fell down.

Attend the breath of
The bitter sea
See the cloud across
The inconsequent sun.

A secret is hung by one brooding hand while
The other plucks loves’ mystery come
On down,
I’m coming down.

Lost Shore

Telemachus 9

The impatient snout of anxiety
(Worse than nothing wrong)
Round and frank works
The giddy wind
against the somber cape.

Evening laughter
Looking softly toward
The gilded, sacred ox
Oh Helen! You are chased chaste
Here your fair noise betrays you
Here your broken ribs murmur
Slightly in this breeze.

Russian Trumpets

(Telemachus 8)

Terrible Caliban now

insane you’re crazy

with intention and pain you

keep your mother close like a

cold servant.

Drawing your own

radiant lips with which to

speak temptation you

will ask me to

be Plainlooking with spirit and fear

I can’t hold this mirror any longer,

for the mockery of teeth,

For the sunlit eyes.

Fiat Ars!

Telemachus 6

Will you have fear of envy?

tripping shiny, woeful, love, while

some drowning hero

tries to guess the contents

of an irish pocket .

Speak of delight

in sunny Athens

tell me, why don’t you

tell me, my love?

(Note- this is the second version of Telemachus 6- see December 3, 2008)