Body/Mind

Body Mind/ Body Mind,

Home of all ills,

Doctors and dentists,

Potions and drills.

Body Mind/ Body Mind,

On couch and with pills,

A fence in a meadow,

One patient, two bills.

Beachcombing

Sifting, I, on seashore strand,

Solitary, seeking bliss.

Infinity in a grain of sand

Seeking eye and finding This.

A Pick Up from Cold Mountain

For a mud ball dropped in water

big plans make no sense

for a fragile dreamlike body

a hundred years are rare

unable to ponder deeply

and claiming they're immortal

people steal a ton of gold

then leave it all behind

I have featured the poems of Tang dynasty hermit Han Shan (Cold Mountain) several times on this blog, chosen from the translations of Burton Watson. This morning I was reading Red Pine's excellent collection, "The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain" and was struck by the timeless views of Han Shan's able sidekick, Shih-te (Pick Up). Red Pine's book includes 49 Shih-te verses along with over 300 attributed to Han Shan. Bonus! In print from Copper Canyon Press, this collection is a must have item for lovers of the "brush and ink" crowd.

Although I have used a traditional portrait of Shih-te with broom in hand, perhaps I should have illustrated this verse with a picture of ol' Kenny Boy, merely one of the vast crowd of potential poster-boys for the above verse. But then, why honor fools even with scorn?

Never Mind the Beard

Intimate?

Yes, I'd say so.

But sometimes it can be

So very hard to see,

I wish that old barbarian

Would trim his eyebrows!

Wahrenbrock's Bookhouse Closes

When a great tree falls in a forest,

Only those who listen can hear.

Impermanence alone

May be relied upon.

(Photo by Preston Wessells )

It's Fun to Stay Alive

(Left to right: Mike Towery, Wiliam Lund, Scott Shaw!, Ken Kruger, Greg Bear, David Clark, Roger Freedman)

"It's Fun to Stay Alive!"

A breezy sentiment

From an old comic book,

A banner to fly

Through weariful life.

Though the sound man faces the

Passing of generations immune,

As to the sacrifice of straw dogs,

Reunited with my cohorts of old

I marvel at grey heads and

Sparkling eyes.

Passing years may erode the form

But hearts,

Like diamonds,

Stay true.

When I was a very young man I was privileged to know a gaggle of brilliant young fellows who, among their many other accomplishments, founded what has become the largest and longest running comic/ science fiction/ film convention in the world, the San Diego Comic Con. This astounding gathering of the tribe brings together 140,000 passionate followers of the imaginative life, dedicated to celebrating the wildest of dreams, dark and light, tragic bravery and hilarious tomfoolery conjoined at the metaphorical hip.

Last week as guest at the 40th annual event I had the very great pleasure of joining my old friends at panels and parties to celebrate our act of collective lunacy now launched far beyond the boundaries of even our wildest dreams. This poor poem is my attempt to convey my love and respect to a great bunch of guys, present and absent, forever young in my eyes.

Shoes for Industry!

Gillian Welch and My Original Face

Aurora borealis fills the sky at night,

Princes Pocahontas bathed in eerie light.

The world dwells in delusion,

Captured by the thought,

That she was an Indian

And that I am not.