Leap (Draft 1)

Leap (Draft 1)

[So now I have lots of first drafts and no finish… maybe something will consolidate…]
So lonely is my fish bowl
and the circle of the swim
is limited to me wondering.

I leap where I can not breathe
because my love calls

Into an outer space
with faith I find a puddle

My love calls
and I leap for freedom
fall into a container of salvation
bottled water on a god’s truck
journey to the sea

When the ocean is near
I leap into a universe of water

I can breathe at last
in an endless sea
where she waits
to swim with me

I dance because intertwined
there is a school of spirals here
and we are so fluid in
currents of endless twist
and freedom hugs us
for just a moment, for
it would not restrict
a gurgle of joy in a
confluence of love

— Douglas Gilbert

Fishing For An Idea (Draft 1)

Fishing For Ideas (Draft 1)

So sad is Mother Nature,
baby ideas come and go

We watch all our little creatures
trying to swim in the race for us,
not even knowing we were sponsors,
but we cried for them
however small they might have been, because
sometimes it is difficult
to swim in a drop of despair.

I cry when the rain is like tears in a fish bowl, and
we are so many who don’t have
lungs of expression and
can’t leap out
even for a minute of flopping

— Douglas Gilbert

Drifting and Getting Lost for nothing. Attending to the flock or something

I was looking at one of the wordpress articles on how they determine which blog to feature on freshly pressed. I came across the blog The Frailest Thing and I looked at Why Did Curiosity’s Landing Generate So Much Attention?, then I looked around for “Literature and Poetry” or something and found The Smart Phone In The Garden, Part Two where I got totally confused but found some ideas I thought I could talk about. I thought I was relating it to comments at Attentional Austerity. But apparently I’m saying things (as usual) that are irrelevant and off topic. Oh well, I never seem to have a place to put anything. I read something and think to myself “and so…”. Then I go off on a tangent alone. So this on “Attentional Austerity”:

Attending to the flock. Comment on “Attentional Austerity”.

    About someone with attention problems: Attending to the flock. Grass is austere. I could see how they might get his attention and goat alright. I imagine a far off shepherd living the pastoral ideal, hearing the beeping-cry of civilization, imagine him letting the village elders, who are living in the shadow of the wolf with newly installed solar panel fields and brand-spanking new Don Quixote turbines, cajol him into connecting to the internet without a staff but with a credit card.
    Putting aside a shearling, he begins to click on everything. He seems to know the provenance of fine paintings, rugs, and wine, but is a little confused by some intriguing items that he nevertheless orders. He spends most of his day reading, clicking, ordering while the Don Quixote spins, and the antique spinning wheel gathers spider webs. He becomes absorbed by Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “The Celestial Railroad” and begins to be afraid.
    At the howl of a wolf, he looks up finally at his wife. She asks, “What have you done?”
    He fears she will announce he has become possessed by an evil force or at best by an obsession that neglects her. “What?” he says sheepishly.
    “Why are you dressing the sheep in dog sweaters and feeding them from cans?”
    “Uh, well, it was on sale, and why shouldn’t the sheep benefit from civilization even if they can’t read?”
    “Well,” she says, “apparently you can’t read.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’ve gotten cans of dog food and well… You’ve dressed the sheep in wool coats and fed them lamb stew.”
    From that day on, the shepherd focused his attention on shearing. But his wife didn’t mind the beautiful shearling coat he bought her with a click.

— Douglas Gilbert
Bah humbug. This didn’t work out very well. I didn’t even make a point.

Anyway, so I wasted a lot of time on this and got nowhere. I should have just used the energy to write another poem or something….

Bearing Witness Bearing Burdens

Bearing Witness Bearing Burdens

Savages in the cabin
ripped its heart apart,
left nearly nothing
but sorrow and dregs.

Savages in the cabin
smashed to pieces
every stick of stove
strut of bed, left

nearly nothing but
honey-chocolate-marshmallow
spread in beer and urine,
footprints on the windows.

Oh Mother of infamy
with children in crime

in drinking my
100 autumn beers,
could you have
at least left a bed.

Though Norwegian krones are dear
you and your cronies scouted my cabin
for marshmallows
for honey and for beer

Infamous deeds
I will testify
to these indeed:
costly damage
smashed appliances

How sad to see
footprints on the windows
and honey on the beer

Oh dear,
Mothers in Finnmarken
have you taught your
cub scouts how to find beer?

My cabin in Jarfjord is destroyed
for honey and for beer, so I ask:
why don’t bears carry money
or manners or bear credit cards

If I must bear witness I will
until there is bare justice

— Douglas Gilbert

Bearing Witness Bearing Burdens (Draft 6)

Bearing Witness Bearing Burdens (Draft 6)

Savages in the cabin
ripped its heart apart,
left nearly nothing
but sorrow and dregs.

Savages in the cabin
smashed to pieces
every stick of stove
strut of bed,
left nearly nothing
but honey and chocolate
on little marshmallows
in a pool of beer
and of urine.

Oh Mothers of infamy
with children in crime
who’d drink 100 beers,

could you at least
have left a bed.

Though Norwegian krones are dear
you and your cronies scouted my cabin
for marshmallows
for honey and for beer

Infamous deeds
I will testify
to these indeed:
costly damage
smashed appliances

How sad to see
footprints on the windows
and honey on the beer

Oh dear,
Mothers in Finnmarken
have you taught your
cub scouts how to find beer?

My cabin in Jarfjord is destroyed
for honey and for beer, so I ask:
why don’t bears carry money
or manners or bear credit cards

If I must bear witness I will
until there is bare justice

— Douglas Gilbert

Bearing Witness Bearing Burdens (Draft 5)

Bearing Witness Bearing Burdens (Draft 5)

[This is a rough draft of something based on The Local
I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish it. It’s become a little too mild and vague maybe]

Oh Mothers of infamy
with children in crime

Though Norwegian krones are dear
you and your cronies scouted my cabin
for marshmallows
for honey and for beer

Infamous deeds
I will testify
to these indeed:
costly damage
smashed appliances

How sad to see
footprints on the windows
and honey on the beer

Oh dear,
Mothers in Finnmarken
have you taught your
cub scouts how to find beer?

My cabin in Jarfjord is destroyed
for honey and for beer, so I ask:
why don’t bears carry money
or manners or bear credit cards

If I must bear witness I will
until there is bare justice

— Douglas Gilbert