Coach (of course) (tkdcoach) wrote,
Coach (of course)

Hope, faith, and love

...but the greatest of these is love. Amen.

"Sing about it, yeh talk about it, yeh talkin' 'bout love"

Steve Forbert.

Not necessarily Paul (aka Saul).

                   I had my _________, now I'm holy.

Meh. So, in 2009, threatened by insolvency and the Mayan calendar (sic or snicker? yer basic B movie plot as reality, thanks Leonard Nimoy & Dr Spock). I'm thinkin' bout Forestry Song instead:

Forestry Song (6th Draft)
 for Doug, who stole
                     _After man has cut & hewn_   Julia Rogers
_A fool sees not what a wise man sees_    Blake
   And birds sing on every
   perennial from roots, present on past
       rivers, running rocks and sands
   see, in my poems; forests, solid, vast, inland

   Shineplay shade as supple boughs wag; with
   delight alone, or in streets rushd, or along fields
       of Earth; of the slumbering liquid,

   b/w a turkey and a toad, froggy
   :frog: /phrog/ 1. interj.

    Term of disgust (dark and
             toadish girl, do not try);
   This soil is a great toad-mother
   The golden lights of liquid rage
        prospecting--for blood, black gold
   hills fell from our sight
   hard as hurdle arms, gold-digging--
   for broth, golden tramels, girdling a new purchase;
   where the brook puts out flow roots
   where winter wolves bark amid snow-wastes, icicles;
   the cricket works where chromatic reeds walnut over
   dancing rapt this phallic procession-- and
   jostling through streets, dry humor, irony, puns, and
   public halls--coming, naked, God-dropt in city street
   --and every corner sign'd each mark'd grave soldier's foot
       on a tablet scrawl'd & nail'd post
       the crowded strata of mountains, soils, rocks,
       giants march into the Full Sea of Time.
by James A. Gardner

That being an early version--of a not-lament--but a poem-proposal--or a suggested mode of being with. // But what of Beulah-land? //
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