how much the devil
is the devil allowed
to mess inside our heads
to stir
to unstir things inside our hearts
to turn the matter of our spirits
as it were
how much permitted
since
after all the fall
and for it
to be cursed upon the ground
crushed underheel
yet also
the raven of Job
trickster to entice the host of heaven
maybe
God
so that the drama could begin of
awful loss and faith
the playwright has the devil
Scratch
contended with by Daniel Webster
though before
there were ages with the mysteries and
miracles
renderings in which the devil was
a character
and to leap ahead
or
somewhen
there’s the battle between Michael and
Satan
the last fight with armor worn
and scales upon the dragon
and
who wins we know
with all the defeat
why should
it bother
but it does
and how deep it has been given leave
like soldiers to excuse themselves
but
here to serve a relentless campaign
to win
what
the Earth
each one of us
material
and soulful are the gains
to ally with sin and maybe with some error
to twist
the good with the inevitable
especially
while we are fallen
too
to make the worst of it
and how much
how far
to invade
how to much to niggle earthstrings
how far to take the heart
from
its own source
how bad to try to make of good
since bad is not invention
merely
merely attempting to infect the health
of who we are and
what we’ve
been given from the start
resist
and it will blee
what does that mean
and
will it sidle back
or come with force
how final is an exorcism
or is it a tussle with a horror
every day
and while humor’s on our side
it should be hard
night on defeating
to
keep going
but keep going
there is a guarantee
it’s on the page and in
the heart
as well
that we can fight and
laugh
and wait for rescue
try on faithful garments
that will last
with
pockets for
all sorts of reminders
there is God and
we are
and with advising
given all
that we are love
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photo by Karl Hedin on Unsplash
glass undarkly
what’s going
on
I get so confused sometimes
what
do I
know or should know
or what is happening around me
and of nearing paranoid
concern
what is going on
behind
thank goodness
by our lore
to
know
the Lord is every direction from
and for
each one
even
the plotters
I
suppose
sigh
forgiveness all around
thank goodness I’m not in charge
of
that department
only to scurry by its glass doors
trying
to conceal
in
soulful
pockets
frustrating undeep enough
for
my own bitterness
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photo by Anastasiia Pyvovarova on Unsplash
(in Ukraine)
so it is today
and beauty from brown ashes
withered leaves provide
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(I saw so many fallen leaves on the ground, despite it being only early August for the summer)
over somewhere
I wake up alone
and sad
maybe not for loneliness
but in what happens
when
it’s applied
I’m thinking of
Judy Garland’s character in The Wizard
of Oz
singing about the rainbow
really how to go beyond
and more on what left’s behind
not so much on what
she’ll find
since
after all
she doesn’t know
except that
troubles there somehow should melt
foreshadowing
what should happen to a magic foe
in water
leaving the word monotoned
to find the color
that
the screen provides
Oz
the paradise
the peril
and it seems tornadoes must decide
the timing and the means
as if
disaster act like prophecy
shortly after singing
all the wishes
which we might forget about as well
on the other side
in
say
living color
there
like my family room back then
watching with
well
you know
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photo by Aleksandar Pavlovic on Unsplash
owning Earth
(despicably)
no Earth B
but
B and C and D
and on
until we have to make the letters
prime
and ours
and never ours
not
this one
A
either
a villain tries to steal the moon
and if it does
would
have it
but would have
stolen it
against the tacit and
irrevocable
laws
planets
in a universe
stories to
show
what we do not own
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photo by NASA Hubble Space Telescope on Unsplash
the question posed for funding
1
can
poetry matter
to
which
someone important wrote an essay
posing
responding to the question
and
because it does
verse writing
with the verse-thinking come before
and
in the process
is important
otherwise
we’re left with quadrupeds for horses and
also
without
the Pegasus in modern times
and
yet
there are prosaic aspects as well
the straightforward issues
dealt with
directly
‘cause
verse helps with that
even
a genre to it
and though
we’re not the monarchs of the metaphor
we are the stewards
in
the realm of work
with something of our syntax going
overall with grammar in the poem
to offer clarity
agreed
upon
if by a formlessness in art as well
2
maybe imagine wordless
songs
or nothing to impact a speech
with
such as
the surly bonds of Earth
and
so
poetry
serves
with power like jet planes’ announcements
by Mach bursts
that heard
pressing the sky as music invocations
in
the service as
they sounded with Cold War beats
back then
3
to say things without saying
and
to say again
even so a nation might be following
also changing
like seas
rhyme
meter
provide accompaniment
to all that’s
said
addressing the five senses
in
their import
plus all the added senses at which
poems might be
guessing
4
for all impulses
instincts
and
directions over and inside
our Earth
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“Can Poetry Matter?” is an essay later developed into a book by Dana Gioia
the quadruped for horse is argued in Hard Times by Charles Dickens
the parts "have slipped the surly bonds of Earth . . . to touch the face of God" are from “High Flight” by John Gillespie Magee, Junior--recited by the President during the Challenger memorial
photo is by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash
lush life
everything is green
too green
we’ll be rescinding
the extreme
as
colors change
finally
to black and white of winter
but for now
driving by
walking by with
care
and certainly to guide the harvesting
it’s all wonder
green
and
if
too green
to love full
by what
we shall forget
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photo by henry perks on Unsplash
[by the photographer] Corn growing in the field. I was attracted by the shape of the fresh leaf growth and the silhouette against the sky.
if there were great expectations
what is expected of us old
which
I’m still trying
to tell
(both kinds
of
telling)
because the line in me goes back
to childhood
with what is remembered
keenly felt
too
often
against which
I think I am supposed to be invisible
by
youthful society
of all those whippersnappers
who
don’t know
I think I’m pushed to say
how good
things are for them
yet they might know
while
I have some whipping
(unliteral but
sharp)
and some
(whatever)
snapping still to
snap
new robes of office
like those honestly
wary
by the lords in Macbeth
or
the pretending gift of Medea’s
poisoned cloak
that
once worn bursts in flame
for
all our sins
piled on to curse
to prove energy
though
delight can become danger
when
expended
if like the artist
no longer young yet
working out
significance in what is now
(again
obliged)
the dry time of
the day
so then try
untry
if not unfeared the journey not
untrapped
by who is the child
who
is older
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photo by Lisa Yount on Unsplash
[still wanting to fly]
masks of course that smile
(Monday after goodness from sabbath times is done)
I’m tired
tired of playing the game
goes
the satiric song
but tired
really
don’t you know and
maybe you could share
from
everything exhausting
which sometimes is the blur
and not much more
and
sometimes is the imposition of
the expectation
that busyness must reign
the real
virtue
and by image
don’t you know
we have
so many things to do
which
is why
there is no real time for you
and
don’t worry
we are teaching children
if not how
but by the show to live
frantic
and frenetic
in the way
for generations
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“I’m Tired” sung by Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles
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