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Into the mouth of cannons
My trusted brother gave the order
I thought I clearly understood
I raised my sword, I made my charge
Six hundred loyal men followedInto the mouth of cannons
With deafening cannon-bursts from both sides
I rode through the mayhem.
If I had died, my hell might have been to ride through that volley for all eternity
But somehow surviving,
I reached the enemy lines
And through the smoke and blood
I saw the face of the opposing officerIt was a man I had known
And I recalled the pleasant social hours in his company
The memory momentarily but completely yanked me from the battlefieldI turned my horse and led the retreat
Back through the fallen and dying
My regiment decimated
I found I had misunderstood my command.These moments are alive at every moment in my life transfixed
As they must be in every man's life
Just as we are all exiles in Egypt, all the prodigal son, all Job, all Cassandra.
We all take part in the misunderstood order
The loyalties abused
And when we see ourselves in the faces of our opponents,
Then will we stop killing.
Just West of Here
22 pages, with photos by Dan. Adobe Reader (pdf)
Aw Shucks, it's just a little thing I call a poem...Hope y’all agree.
33 pages, Adobe Reader (pdf)
To the Pilgrim on Their Way
Nine newly published poems by Dan.
August Poetry:
Nothing, Another Man's Work, And She Blushed Again, Beaches are made for running,
A Multiple-Choice Poem
As I
Cried / sipped a steaming cup of oolong tea / lay dying
I thought back to
Yesterday / May 8th / my first kiss
Now it all seems like a
Dream come true / nightmare / badly dubbed foreign film
In the distance I hear
Churchbells / sirens / symphonies
How I
Miss / adore / bore of
Those
Quiet moments / rare moments / interruptions
When everything seemed as if it
Could go on forever / would never end / never happened
The day I
Stood in the waves / danced on your grave / missed my train
I thought my life
Was over / just beginning / in vain
But now in the clear light of
Spring / the moon / the neon vacancy sign
I have
Changed my mind / lost all motive / dyed my hair
And when I
Leave this place / see you one last time / squint through the misty window
I
Know / fear / hope
That you will
Remember me kindly / forgive me that 20 bucks I owe you / save me some ice cream and pie
Don't Know When
I shoulda stopped and got gas in the last town
Nothing to do now but keep driving
Can't go back now
Just gotta keep going
Nothing out here for a long ways
Just folks going past at a tragic speed
Can't see past the headlights
If I'd known what a long dark road
I would have savored that cool water
I shoulda spent more time soaking in the laughter of friends, real friends
No place to rest now, don't know when
And as far as I can see the tank's just gonna get emptier and emptier
Nothing on the radio but noise
And in my head these thoughts I've thought a thousand times before
What right have I to hope?
I have abandoned my angels
No years in caves could purify
No proof, no evidence that the sun will rise
It is all I can do to drive on, drive on
Two
Two varieties of grapes
From different regions
Ripened to perfection
-- fermented --
-- blended --
Each contributing its distinct bouquet
Two trees, planted separately
In morning
One shades the other
At dusk, the opposite
They grow together
Two colors
Yellow and blue
Blue wants to know blue-blue
and green and yellow
Yellow wants to know yellow-yellow
and green and blue
Pour them together
On a vast canvas
And mix slowly
Two people
There is no greater journey
There is no prince and princess
There is only happily ever after
Two souls
Totally committed to their relationship to the divine source
Seeing that source in themselves
Seeing no separation between themselves and their beloved
Kneeling down and kissing the feet
-- Namaste --
Treating each other as angels
When I forget
Promise to put my head in your lap and remind me
Two souls - dots - particles
Careening on a journey
Between worlds and lives and states
Balance and stabilize
Two minds - two hearts - two actors,
poet, singer
One.
Captain Bliss
by Dan Shaw
[October 2000]
Every 13,000 years the sun moves through the 12 constellations every 52,000 years the sun reaches a 'station' relative to earth's position. Even that is brief consideration. so far earth's lifespan is an even more staggering 5 billion. Would you expect the sun to rise over Stonehenge in mid-June How would people neolithic learn the trick? Time and the elements Could not erode their monuments If I were named Demosthenes Would the schoolboys bully and tease? Would I find my sanctuary in the dusty scrolls of the libraries? If I could roam the tomes so rare At the Alexandrian libraire Would I observe the shadow of a stick Or would a pyramid or an obelisk do the trick? Elation -- I am awed by the magnificence of creation the divine architect deserves more respect If the conquistadors hadn't made such wrecks and left a few more Codex's we mighta had a Renaissance If I can help preserve something, I can help learn something Somewhere in a hole lies a stone a "new rosetta stone" it's lying face down, naturally and a geologist will turn it over eventually. In a cave that used to be dark, dry and cold the warm, wet breath of the tourists peels paint three millenia old that is, what hasn't been carried away and sold. Somewhere in a tomb thousands have been spent on restoration tourists are forbidden miles away we affect the water table now salt crystals destroy the murals One day I will scuba dive It will be the thrill of my life Unless I learn some basic facts I'll have few stories to bring back Somewhere on the ocean floor There's some places I've yet to explore exotic fish glow eery hues and where tectonic plates are spreading microbes are happily breeding there too we'll have to redesign our zoo. The Hawaiian's say, "Beware of the Goddess Pelee' don't take any lava away" There are beaches where the sand is black my brother Larry put some in his shoes to take back he seemed to be alright. I never wondered why most beaches are white. (Quartzite is hard, and light.) You know, it always seems to me this valley is as beautiful as Yosemite I wonder how it compares vis-a-vis the geology? O California, all the geologic gems that adorn ya' with riches you are flush and fine one need only recall the gold rush of forty-nine. Don't drain Mono Lake away to pipe the water to L.A. If we listen to all the alarmists We'll need a quick trip to the pharmacist's ecoterrorists are alarming global warming! the ice caps are melting the ozone is thinning! killer bees swarming DNA harming! Bovine growth farming pesticide resistant hay I could go on rhyming this way. It's not too late to save the day Captain Bliss is ignorance personified under a black flag setting sail against the tide Says he, "I'll be your guide" and "How d'ye like my sharp cutlass?" Like it's "How do you do?" it was encrusted with diamonds that wouldn't scratch glass So saying he stuck the wrong end of the telescope in his eye and sailed away from his shoe. "I'm glad you asked me about Stonehenge," (You didn't) Merlin must have brought them, or They were of Cyclopean construction Water on Mars? Let's talk about architecture. if the magnetic pole shifts have the anti-gravity lift craft ready and the photon belt shift -- did I say that already? Sort the true from the new age Let your heart be your gauge Don't let your IQ equal your age. I'm glad I read every page. Without geology there'd be no petroleum, no granite for the mausoleum what would the good be of a degree in geography if I could not recognize porphyry? and when it comes to erosion I'm your man I'm a big alluvial fan Who can not be moved to see a girl living in a tree? The jade professor's eye doth say, "This is the only paper that rhymes this way Meter may not be his strength, It is a tedious three page length, but still I think I'll give an A"
Moss from the Skull of the Hanged Man
[Spring Equinox 2000] Two tones I had known since my youth Or rather, thought I had known and grown accustomed to -- In a Beethoven sonata Reformed, fell open, Unhinged before a flood tide I sank down through the liquid earth Gratefully abducted from the symphony hall, Immediately forgotten and lost If not for the two angel-tones Sheltering my frailty Demons would have instantly crazed me. By some gift I did not deserve, Through the wing-feathers I glimpsed The torments of the inferno. Each murmur burnt mortal ears perpetually, Poor unjust souls each scorched in their proportion Howling noiselessly, mutely, Futiley writhing to turn against the source of their dismal reward. Though tears of compassion pour forth, My eyes would not shut against this vision. With my guardians beside, We careened downward still further To a blazing apex My mind told me would dash my fragile carcass. I felt the spike tear into my ribs, But not blood but red rose perfume poured forth And we safely trespassed into the opposite realm. Flaming color tones dazzling on the surface Of a symphonic sea Swept an adamantine shore. Each wave, each ripple resounded With a harmony overwhelming -- I think then I fainted! I missed a moment of ecstasy! Which now I would gladly trade For my impoverished daily life. Waking in the gentle support of my two chaperones The sun brighter than the sun Melted my icy heart Nothing was left of the paltry ego I had indulged since birth. We plunged into the wave crests Sparkling loud hallelujahs. The submarine pressure absolved me. Sunlight penetrated to the rainbow sea bottom and my whole being shone transparent to the divine brilliance. The winged journey had erased memory and foresight, But at the moment I was gripped by the dread That my pilgrimage would cease, the winged musicians dissolved into a blare of clatter and my vision -- my audition -- ended, and my body shuddered. Beethoven's sonata continued, The symphony hall seemed unaffected. The musicians played on as if they had not noticed the two pearly notes that had transported me, and I collapsed into a reverie Oddly tinged with remorse.My childhood was spent in luxury I never knew adversity Nothing seemed to challenge me I was as bored as I could be. Three years at the university Very nearly suffocated me I needed more than A, B, C What I needed was to feel free. By the idea of freedom I became obsessed By my possessions I felt possessed It was such a relief that day When all I owned I sold, or gave away. For miles on foot I journeyed through the forest With worn out shoes and blistered feet I marched all day in searing heat Until, exhausted, I stopped to rest. But then the night chilled to the bone And sleepless I waited for the day's hot sun To ignite wet moss, I wasted matches Cursed when the last of my food dropped in the ashes. On humid nights I lay sleepless, sweating Wishing for mosquito netting My mouth so dry I could not spit I drank my fill from a muddy pit. Make your camp while it's still light Or you may spend a sleepless night. You can't pitch a tent in shifting sand And remember to look out for ants! Trails gave way to unpaved street My kingdom for a place to eat! I want a hot meal at any cost I asked directions, and still got lost. Waited for a ride all night in the rain This bus must be wrong It's circling town again Took a cab and got short-changed. At long last I reached the sea The salty air was medicine to me I boarded ship, the crew set sail We were beset by a fearsome gale Tempest-tossed my faced turned pale. When I reached that foreign shore I stared, stunned at what lay before An endless expanse of glassy sand No way across but camel caravan. I braved the heat, I suffered cold And other trials I haven't told I would do it all again, my dear, Because, you see, it brought me here.A heart-shaped stone Too big to carry home. No path through these woods Just the wind bending tall grass Until the rabbits ran through Winding over sumptuous ridges Moonlight throws shifting shadows Deer hooves tread delicately Owl rests watchfully. First rays of daylight Catch on dewy bristles Night creatures retreat to their dens. Let rodents blaze your trail They know how to run with the earth Follow no trails Leave no trace Blaze your own trails Any rock lays unremarkable Until gloriously appreciated. Paths paved with small kind deeds and cookie crumbs Need not lead anywhere in particular As long as the fog breaks And the sun breaks through. Pompador Bluff stands as an island proud in a valley of mist. Two paths came together in the wood.
Be my romance Give me half a chance Teach me how to dance I'd rather touch your heart Than touch your hand. They say the age of romance is past The "M" word just won't last They say it's too much to ask So don't ask. That's what they say. I just want to sit by the fire With my bride by my side by the fire That's about all I require By the fireside with bride I'd retire By firelight my bride I'll admire From July to June I'll pay obeisance to the moon This humble love song I will croon As we gaze upon the moon. I don't care how long I have to sing this courtship song I could go on and on and on I feel I've known you all along Underneath the sunny sky As the lovers wander by They may hear me sigh As I gaze into your eye As we float along the stream I feel as in a dream That's exactly how it seemed Da da de de de de dee In the summer when it's hot We will travel quite a lot Off to some secluded spot Where the world is forgot I will take you on a cruise We'll go anywhere you choose We'll kick off our shoes And take a snoozy-snooze I'll cook all the food It might not be so good I'll chop all the wood I won't look under the hood. Your job is to sing to me And to let me tell you what you mean to me You're sea to shining sea to me America the Free to me. It's easy to see us ten years hence White horses behind a sturdy fence With a modicum of some horse sense You'd see right through all my nonsense You should have seen me ten years ago I thought I was such a Romeo I would wander to and fro I had no idea where to go I can hear you asking, "So?" Let me say before I go There's one thing I've come to know To live is to grow.
An astute young tutor from Tudor Took pursuit of the good king's daughter The kind king never told 'er what she ought'er She could marry whoever would suit her The more the suitor's pursuit The more she refused The more she refused The more he'd pursue Till at last her refusal He couldn't refute
Bearing garlands among the sea weed and drift wood you, goddess, step lightly no fog could veil your brilliance If I had not seen you if I had only seen the imprint of your foot in the sand before the wave erased it I might have known so much From the distance I could not at first see your face it was the way you stood still it was the bend of the arm In the next moment I knew that somehow you were more at the beach than I was suddenly I felt salt in my nose and sand beneath my feet the waves crash-echoed at my ears This moment pivots so many years I am drawn nearer and I force myself to approach you now ride a tiger Bearing gifts in my left hand among sea weed and drift wood I step lightly No beast could dissuade me If I had not seen your face If I had only heard your voice -- Goddess, I can only adore and worship you from your body the earth, the seas poured forth allow me to follow you I will open in myself a vast crater to catch the droplets you shake from your hair and I will be filled. Invite me to your ceremony let me be your consort, your devotee I will praise thee let us approach imperceptibly Let us touch orange sparks we will rest on the waters of bliss rivers of light bathe the marrow closure opens; the giver receives; the solid flows in an instantaneous eternity, enlightenment.
Eight and a half by eleven
Is too flat and small
Words too thin and overused
Numberless verbs clamor for attention
Too many words clog the shelves and air
My eyes and ears are full numb
Before truth was certain
It shouted itself hoarse
Now by standing still and silent
Virtue stands out above the seething stew
Gratitude gave up
Trying to find words sufficient, fittingly eloquent, elegant
The poet lives not in handshakes and howdy's
But the poet lives in an inner oasis
Invisible from the outer desert
A distant oasis.
I rhymed a map
The names were changed because
I hope you'll find your own
The ceaseless crash of wave upon wave
Upon the expansive shore
Pauses for a moment...
...
Elastic stretched, strains to return
To that resting place
Stretched too far or too long
I feel brittle and fear I'll snap apart
I searched a dictionary in vain
For a word that was worth the ink
No tree was so rude or base
That I could ennoble it with a pen
Searching the outer world
I found no phrase I wished I had written
I found no item to inspire my tongue
Searching my heart
I found understanding hungry
To be heard without speech and
The mute voice of my soul
The soul pronounces a silent mantra tirelessly
Even a thought or feeling
Which weighs less than the lightest word
Cumulates, accretes like a lumescent pearl
No, like a wall of pearls, a reef
Harboring a private bay
Breaking the surf to calming ripples
The surf, the surf of manic sound
The blindness from clash of neon
Painters desperate for recognition
Wasting pigment on a canvas
Which was so much more festive white
If even one was brave enough not to paint.
This vine once stood in the sun-soaked soil
In Mediterannea's salty air and rocky hill
Bearing sweet fruit to be crushed and stashed
Coolly, in cellars cut deep and dark
Each year's fermented harvest unique
Stored for celebrations of future years.
When families gathered together their belongings
They brought with them cuttings
Took root in new soil new air new hill
Harvested crushed fermented new grapes
Harvests celebrated after years of tending
Fruition hard wrought from the indiscernible
Victory of growth in elements harsh, hot; and cold
Hard, rocky unrelenting, inhospitable
Grew green, vines shading, cooling
Rains permeated the earth, roots grew down
Drew nutrients from mineral moisture
Grapes grew and hung in bunches
Gathered by thousands, gathered by thousands
Crushed, blended, fermented
Uncorked and poured into bulbous glass
Red celebration tipping
To meet your red lips intoxicating.
Some things take so long to ripen,
or
Try some of this
For best results,
Use a pencil as sharp as a Ginsu knife
Plan your meal around
The choicest local words available at the market
Select an assortment of verbiage
With varying colors and textures
Let the Good Housekeeping Cookbook be your Thoreau
Linger over the rhythm of the recipes
Season your kitchen like Walden
Chop your ingredients into distinctive shapes
Warm over a steady flame with close attention
Garnish with some hint of surprising spice
Some cooling aromatic herbs
Arrange the settings on tablecloth
As an artist does on his tableau
Serve each course at leisure
Enjoy each in its proper sequence
Take care to refill the glass before it empties.
Play a score that will soothe
Two candles will be light enough.
Compose each plate as carefully
As a songwriter each verse
When the grapes have been plucked
The stem has served its purpose
The space between courses
Is as important to the poem
As is the emptiness of a stomach
To a healthy appetite.
Save some room
For the sweet punchline.
Can I pour you some dark import?
Can you taste the cinnamon?
Mmm, I love it when people appreciate my cooking.
It was made with love.
There are some words left over
So I'll just wrap them up
And put them in the fridge for tomorrow
I can't tell you the recipe exactly
It comes out different every time
A good honest home-made poem
Is so nourishing and fulfilling
You just feel like laying down after.
Spoon me.
The red tiger that paces within my rib cage
The heart captive and solitary
Aching as it must to be uncaged
A desire so intense to see not what is
Internal vision so bright it blots out true sight
Impatiently, impatiently waiting
I have foreseen it a hundred thousand different ways
A face with such charisma
Enchants my eyes like some fairy’s flower
I am spellbound
Her hair is red or it is black
She is tall or short
Her features are round or narrow
Her gentle words caress the ears
How cruel to hide the key to my prison
In the most remote and guarded court
Of some yet unknown lady’s heart
My heart, like some dry inert powder
Finding in you some needed element quickens
Nothing can be seen but you
Miraculously the moon full fills the sky
Your brow becomes a landscape
Under the loving lens
Some hearts like luggage
Have been packed too full
Straining; bursting to open
But the heart opens itself like a light
Radiant and warming
As it pours itself out, it receives more and grows
And any confinement
Would not be too small or dark
To share with my loved one
The universe is in her and a sun
The stir-crazy tiger can be still
And breathe deeply, and content
The air seems honey sweet
No words are needed
Quiet wants to hear her breath
My cheek to feel its warmth
Intimacy a mountain
So magnificent
That its creation is beyond conceiving
And its absence unimaginable
When my eyes first meet hers,
Words may clumsily spill from my mouth
As if escaping from the roiling battlefield of my brain
She will hear what I’m not saying
Unfinished sentences perfectly understood
Griefs shared will weigh lighter
Desserts shared will taste sweeter
The heart-spring opens and
By mixing is enriched irrevocably
No effort can sort out from the heart
What it has once taken in
Two lovers lie motionless, enmeshed
He immersed in a single wrinkle of her skin
And she in the comfort of the sound of his breathing.
At last, everything is one.
At first, everything is one.
No two ever derived from separate sources
Nor one from the other.
Both originate in the unity.
Both are destined for unity.
Along the way from oneness to oneness
Complementarity breaks down into polarity
The two share an intersection
Which takes on the appearance of a boundary
Instead of a connection
In the molecule we examine ourselves,
Our positive and negative electrical charge balance
That keeps two particles as one compound
Electrical charge which can not be sustained alone
Not alone.
Sorrow resisted seeks deeper sorrow.
Sorrow once embraced fully
Having reached the end of the cave
Turns its face again to the light of joy.
Joy prefers sorrow to the stony-hearted
Sorrow is the lens bent to magnify joy
The chasm between joy and suffering she loves to leap
Joy is so vast that one candle in the hand of joy
Will push back the black night
As much as the sun loves to shine,
It does not love its own rays the most,
But delights in dusk and dawn
When it merges and mixes with shadow
At the edge of illumination
Airy waters fall to earth, seeking the sea's basin.
Rain carries air into the soil
Water in earth as air is in water
And gathers to it minerals and salts.
The seas massage the coast
And know themselves by their shores.
And on a beach two beings walk
Hand in hand
Her left hand fits into his right
His bare feet impress the sand more deeply than hers
His rough skin catches the fog
Her smooth face glows with the light reflected
Off sand and sea
His strength allows her gentleness
Her gentleness may bring out his strength or his gentleness
And let his strength elicit her strength
We know words can only hint and approximate
Strength does not oppose gentleness
True strength is gentle
When strength becomes brutality
Delicacy becomes frailty
Any quality unmoderated by its complement becomes extreme
A hum quiet but incessant becomes deafening
The magnitude of the crime is yet unrealized
Strong men will weep
Two faces of virtue seen
Through two eyes
Resolve into one.
Active and passive
We must balance and merge all these
Within ourselves, male and female
Woman, vouch safe your femininity
Do not let your softness harden
Do not wear down your nails or cut your hair
Wear it long and flowing
Daughter, seek out and emulate
Some model of elegance
Sister, cultivate those qualities
We only read about in fairy tales
Women may weld and rivet while men battle
The battle may be won
The home may be lost
Make your boys into men
But not your girls
Confusion is rampant
Men wear long hair and earrings
Women wear short hair and pants
God, preserve the endangered species
Of the feminine woman.
Dress her in bright colors
Enthrone her beside the highest man
Let no man debase her.
Choose up the lowest woman
Let royalty kiss her feet
More reverently than a Pope
Might kiss the Earth.
Let men smell of sweat
And cover them with dust
Let women compound perfumes
And step on coats over mud
O giver of every gift
Blind me with the radiant sun
Blind me with a blanket of snow
If I ignore your glory in one water droplet
Will you remind me
You will, you will flood me in the next moment
With an ocean
And I will praise your glory in every drop.
Liberator of souls
Pierce my eyes with the sight of a woman
Pierce my heart with a woman
Deafen me with her sweet soft singing
There is nothing I more want to hear
Let a love song be the last thing I hear
It will reverberate and echo
On her song I will feast.
When the monks in their orange robes have departed Incense smoke has dissipated The horns and symbols have faded The colored sands have been swept away We will have to open our eyes and go out. When the ship unmoored Puts out to sea Exuberance springs From the opening rift Has the origin been wholly relinquished? Some unnoticed earth clod carried along As if caught inadvertently in the tread of a shoe Or some momento cherished like a relic My sea-floor is littered with anchors Anchors dragging leave the sea-bed scarred Although at times I drifted without In some storms I have cast them over all sides Sea-weed clings to the anchor hoisted on deck Others abandoned will never be retrieved The hull-cradle wave rocked Foam-sung lullaby Destination day-dreams To make them real We must awake To ships miles out at sea Wind carries Tropic island fragrance One grape among a bunch Prescient of its auspicious fate Sweetens with such fervor A grain of sand lusts for the fire That will fuse it into the wine bottle Dull routine blindingly polished by anticipation Plantings tended with more lavish intoxicated merriment Than a toast to the guest of honor Your smile, kind word, warm embrace Poise, sun-like grace Leave their trace On my mind’s retina Romance a journey mythic Navigated by the stars Informed by the highest ideals A duet played on new instruments Arrow-straight arrow Yearning to be strung, drawn, released. The harp-bow sends forth a musical missile Guided by amour and admiration. Countless envelopes tear open today. The stacked sum of words Adds up to nearly nothing, compared to one. Few notes carry so much yet weigh so lightly. Let the telephone ring My voice it is not this time. Ring, telephone; not this time. Until I call will you enjoy hoping? I would have sent you a rose, but could not send just one. I would have sent a bunch, but One does not present a flower to a garden. I would pave your path with petals before you, but It would be less fragrant than the trail you leave behind The earth longs to feel your bare feet, The hardwood floor you make wish it could dance In me you ignite a spark But the spark says, "I already exist within you." "I am immortal, independent." In one sparkle a conflagration waits in possibility In the ashes the spark though missing is there. The still lips of a diva An inkwell capped A blank book These hold the possibility of infinite praise Everything is cradled in the void, But one spot may fill it.
