Wind storms through orchards She hasn’t stopped singing I will learn the mockingbird song I will storm home
mocking calm branches
left a bird frantic,
fruit on the ground
this mockingbird
who mocks the calm, my thoughts
seems searching for a perch
a mate, perhaps, like I
seek Cindy, yes
before the next storm, so birdie luck
will perch a finger, and
like the shocking bird,
my Cindy electric and flighty
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Archive for September, 2008
Baking Apples
Guy On A Hot Tin Tile
Told the bounding man, The police didn’t arrive. Told him that There’s a man
we paid our mortgage. He
jumped the roof
wouldn’t come down
The wall street guy
yanked a tile, claims
ten cents worth security paper
against our mortgage,
brother can you return a dime
we paid our mortgage
clipped the grass
took out the garbage
deposited on our lawn,
tin ear
tin cup,
brother can you spare a billion
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Dark Odd Goose
He still had his subway pass, Too much iron in the field, The city fool He dynamited the outcrops, Mischievous kids staring at the fire, Trampled stalks in ancient designs Maybe they thought he meddled Never majoring in archeology, by corn, with Below the char, a stone base, Gem seizures dance him in steps, He prays casual quakes in angst A frenzied man can, more than straw, Into tall stalking corn, he took In rutty mud he grooved In faltering sun her arm lifted up, “Little boy blue “Flood the fields with whistles “Send the floating spirits’ keys,
city shoes, expired employee badge,
invalid railway ticket to former places.
or cyanide from gold mines.
with books and trinkets,
thought he’d escape explosions
through cows and pigs and many digs.
plowed the field,
yet weird corn
(twisted patterns)
plagued him. Met the locals.
mother with the welcome pie,
medallion on the mantelpiece,
kids with designs.
seemed the work of little minds,
the minor demons some
rural parents breed,
dirt bored,
intractable plowed-out
fallow follies.
in buried treasure
neglecting tradition:
the earnest mettle to toil,
to seed, to plant, to struggle,
to honor nature, and ancient maize.
he rode the stocks,
denied his destiny:
this farm his blunder retirement,
a vision quest, but now,
flocks of black cacophony
cawing his ears,
lightning strikes the scarecrow.
a Mother Goose book,
an amulet of Merlin, he finds,
not child’s play.
explosive, driven by visions:
flying bloody arms,
dove feathers scattered,
dust debris done in doom.
not release the lava of ancient
curses cast below the cinders.
babble incantations
bubble coherence of foam, oozed
below the stone with char,
entrance to caves, grave marker,
not for mere farmers.
coded words, spells,
mystical verses,
kicked an old soccerball
through poem-grown fields,
mocked an ancient wielded word
by plowing with a hockey stick,
looking for weapons,
supposed fiddle swords
reposed against planted wizards.
inscriptions before more floods
to conjure the sorceress gone.
silk to kernel, eternal mother.
Mother Goose stood in the corn field
a Statue of Liberty, commanding
come blow your oboe
the bleep’s in the meadow,
a Noah sings the blues.
my river-heart boy.
the nursery stymied rhymes to me;
if you will come into my harbor,
I will lift my lamp
beside the golden time.”
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Sauntering
Snow walk She dazes my daydream Her tickle thoughts An inner sky I’m coming. Soon a touch A bird is amused, I sing,
branching reverie
missing her
suffuses the day
laugh me
warm walking
a leaf
a scarf
blue calm.
being her
will giggle me all over
chirps
flying home
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Watching Kindness In You
I saw you kneel I see Grand ecstasy I give you my awards have you leave you will return to
to heal a boy
who dropped a toy
smithereens a laugh
when your blessing
was an invention
of love new to him
who instantly lost
attachments to pretentions
pretending to be brave, but
became heroic
to embrace you as angel
as did he
and this is
why I love you,
will share you
with the world
when you come home
to me alone
my affection tonight, but
I will gladly
in the morning, for
I am proud to be
a friend to the angel who will
wash the world with my happy tears
and I fear not because
the humble blessings
of me
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Dog Day Trader Under The Moonlight In New York
Romantic without rules
floating the East River bonds,
delightful Fannie Mae moonlight
Liberty Lady take advantage of me
(vice versa) cheaply
kiss my derivative
for the Brooklyn Bridge
Love my bridge to the derivatives.
A mortgage is a thing of beauty.
Although I think you’ve always known
I’m a traitor on the street
on the prowl to trade
a pick-up line,
my precious gift
After I love you in the morning
the price of love rises
like a stock
Honey I told you I’m a day trader:
when my pleasure profits rise
pumping the price up high,
I’m gonna sell you out
before the bubble bursts, and
I told you to
take no stock in me.
Get out of bed, you’ve
had your bribe, ’cause
it’s not my default, and
I’m too big to fail
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Pull Off
She won’t listen to me can’t slide my soul got her that hot dress
in her drunken slumber
even when I’m thoughtful
talkin’ with flower songs
in her pretty little ears,
deaf to my buzzin’
anguish from losin’
my shovelin’ job
diggin’ dirty sobs,
not hearing my singing
in wake-up keys that
they’ve been mean to me
and no one will record
my sorry blue chord: I
down a broken string, can’t
pull-off this guitar to fame. I
and the toaster, wish
she’d listen; she’ll
pop-up when I’m gone:
I’m movin’ on
to the promised band
no hallelujah for me
just clap real hard
for heaven to hear
from the crossroads
my singing hitched
to bad luck hiking,
like a sway back horse
that no one can ride
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
Spelling, Large Hadron Collider Promises Me Death In October
(I spelled “Hadron” wrong in my original posting. I don’t know how this started, but the wrong spelling is all over the net. I thought maybe I did it, but I see earlier references to it. {spoiler}: doomsday is not going to happen — cosmic rays are much more powerful and have put more energy than the collider into a small space and nothing catastrophic has happened.) Alone in death but they said Someone strung me along Prepared a last meal, But hysteria was wrong. No mashed potatoes I die alone
not pleasant
we’d die together
not alone,
no fault of mine
talked of CERNities,
flying away with
Higgs bosons, and
the gravity of it all
mashed potatoes
smashing protons
Disappointment.
smashing protons
with my bad spelling
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
You Can Put Lipstick On A Higgs Boson
You can put lipstick Oinks in traffic, heard An orchestra of spiders where But at least
on a Higgs boson, but
it’s still a
mathematical pig
in Fourier transforms
are fine collective hype,
caught in the strings of a web.
bassoons and strings are played,
sound charming
quirky
quarky
wait till October
for the artifacts gone real
to shout “Eureka!”
in the limit we have found
“Gravitas!”
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
You Promised Me Death, Large Haldron* Collider{*spelling mistake:”Hadron”}
Alone in death but they said Someone strung me along Prepared a last meal, But hysteria was wrong. No mashed potatoes
not pleasant
we’d die together
not alone.
talked of CERNities,
flying away with
Higgs bosons, and
the gravity of it all
mashed potatoes
smashing protons
Disappointment.
smashing protons,
I die alone
—- Douglas Gilbert
(Henry Le Châtelier)
