Beach Buddha

Rolly Polly in white sand
Upon his chair the mental man
Face to the sun he does defy
Enjoys his play at water side
Cross legged upon the beach is he
The big white buddha by the sea
His skin turns crimson by the sun
Will not restrain his beachside fun
Flame red the buddha head to toe
With stark bald line at belly fold
Our starchy buddha soleil the fact
Now silly splotchy red white abstract

Marginalia

My friend Darlene (nee Doreen, nee Darleen, nee Delorean... it took me a bit to get it right) turned me on to this poem.  I love used books and borrowing other peoples books for this very reason.

Marginalia
by Billy Collins


Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.

Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
"Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
why wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.

Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
"Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
"Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.

And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.

We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.

Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.

And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.

Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page

A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
"Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love."

Create Date	:	Monday, January 13, 2003

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/marginalia/

See

I walk to sea to feel the matrimony in soft white sand
I step to the water warm and caressing on bare white legs
I taste your salty flavour fresh and renewed upon my lips
I watch your herald a sliver of beautiful light
Rising above the mountain behind me ahead of the storms
And joined among the night time lights
This windward expanse a sky of cotton in wispy gossamer
Co-joins the water phosphorous wondrous
I walk to see,
You.

New Voice Mail (part three point one)

The wee window greets me with this simple message: New Voice Mail

Press SP-PHONE

Star ninety-nine

Please enter your password or if you have entered the wrong mail box number press star.

Beep beep beep beep bope beep bope beep beep, number sign

You have one new voice message, to check unheard messages press one-one.

One.  One.

First message…

“Hi Mr. Giesbrecht (ah thinks I, a wrong number) this is Marie from Weight No More returning your call.  I got your email sir and I need you to call me back so we can put you on the road to your new you.  You have our numbers and do feel free to call the toll free number.  Or email us, yah that will work too, email us Mr. Giesbrecht.  Oh, and have you booked your doctors assessment, we need that information.  Your BMI is very high sir and I know we can help.  So call, uh, yes, well bye then.”

I listen with interest whilst washing a bag of chips down with a coke.  Poor Mr. Giesbrecht thinks I, so heavy he needs surgery.  I hope they find him.

To delete this message press 7.

New Voice Mail (part three)

The wee window greets me with this simple message: New Voice Mail

Press SP-PHONE

Star ninety-nine

Please enter your password or if you have entered the wrong mail box number press star.

Beep beep beep beep bope beep bope beep beep, number sign

You have one new voice message, to check unheard messages press one-one.

One.  One.

First message…

“Hi this is Marie from Weight No More.  Tired of being overweight?  Tried all the diets and nothing works?  Feeling frustrated and depressed?  Is your health deteriorating?  Well we can help.  All you need to do is call us back at 855-343-0907 and we can begin your free consultation toward a new and thinner you.”

I turn the chair and stare at my Hitchcock physique in the full-length mirror.  Really, could I go through with stapling my stomach.

Nah, be good with yourself.

To delete this messa… 7.

Fall

Enchanting music of summers heat

Turns rasp before seasonal retreat

Zephyrus song will be defeated

By natures fall as sleep is gifted

We feel the wind as Notus blows

The leaves release from bows strong hold

Prepares the way for Boreus’ air

Deep slumber rest as winter nears

A woman...

...would be much better off if she could distinguish the difference between:

• A man that flatters her and a man that compliments her;

• A man that spends money on her and a man who invests in her;

• A man that views her as property and a man that views her properly;

• A man that lusts after her and a man that loves her;

• A man that believes he is God's gift to women and a man that REMEMBERS a woman was God's gift to man.


Know the difference!


~Billie Holiday~

New Voice Mail (part two)

The wee window greets me with this simple message: New Voice Mail

Press SP-PHONE

Star ninety-nine

Please enter your password or if you have entered the wrong mail box number press star.

Beep beep beep beep bope beep bope beep beep, number sign

You have one new voice message, to check unheard messages press one-one.

One.  One.

First message…

And there she is: “Hello Norton it's your mother calling.  Better call me soon because I may not be around for much longer.  I love you and care for you deeply son.”

Fuck.

To delete this message press 7.

777777777777777777777777777777777777777!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blue Hippo

There is a thrill

That is so shrill

Its reason to most unknown

Alive and well

There on Mac Mill

Blue Hippo lives and roams

Madame Marie

Who lives with he

Relies upon him to protect

On golden bull

He doth does rule

O’er all the roads inspect

The folks who drive

Too slow or jive

To music bad or phones

Receive the wrath

Blue Hippo hath

His mighty roar will drone

The fear it stakes

In driver awakes

Attention to their skills

They fear the shrill

Blue Hippo will

Invoke on driver ills

So pay attention

Be best intentioned

As you roam these roads

Avoid the call

That mighty bawl

As Blue Hippo sounds explodes

Beep-beep

The Swim Lesson

A Choreography

To swim well is artistic athletic sensuality.  The swim is a freestyle art form of dance, choreographed to move with minimal effort through cool waters.  My friends, too many do not swim well leading to frustration and effort wasted.  A swim lived well will leave you exhilarated and wanting for more.

Follow these simple lessons dear friends.  Remember these simple lessons and you shall always swim well.

As a swim is choreography you must also have a partner, an imaginary partner, who will always remain in front of you, providing you guidance, assisting your need, bringing your effort to climax and joy.  Hold your imaginary partner dear as they are your key to unlocking the heart to the pinnacle of water prowess.

This lesson adheres to a single simple rule: be steady on the side.  Now dear friends a myth of swim is the swimmer is flat and level and indeed may well choose to be.  But let it be known the swiftness of motion, the joy of the movement, the glide of moisture across body can only be felt in an undulating rotation from side to side.

Your technique is simple and improves with practice.  Practice often.  Your partner and you must be face to face joined together waist to waist, breast to breast, one body in motion you move rotating as one first right side down, then back across your centers, and then left side down.  Repeat.

Your motion co-joined, you are rigidly as one turning on the pivot point running from head to loin, fingers meshed, nose to nose, you slide easily together in slow deliberate motion, side to side.  Do not wave my friends, rotate.

Practice my friends.  This motion must be felt as only emotion can be felt.  Be steady from side to side, and across common and centre plane.

The stroke is a sensual feeling act.  Your hand will grab and pull, will sustain your movement as your body and your partner’s body rotate in slow deliberate co-joined motion through the water.

Release your enmeshed hands while bodies are at their centers.  First your right arm will reach slowly upward moving in an arc as your rotation turns your bodies down to your right side.  Your hand will dip into the water ahead of your arm.  Flick your hand inward so the tip of your thumb gently touches the crown of your partner’s head.

Lightly, deliberately your thumb will trace the nape of the head down the undulating bones of your partner’s spine, hand flat pulling your bodies through the warm moist fluid ether.  Your hand will reach its end near your partner’s waist.  As you begin your turn back to your centre flatten your hand against the small of their back lightly tickling sensation as your arm takes your hand around to the edge of your hip resting momentarily there in anticipation of your next stroke.

Your arms, your hands are in constant motion.  First your right side, rotating, joined as one tracing, tickling the back, then your left.  Constant motion, in tandem with each other, fingers tickling, hand caressing, motion within motion.

You are joined dear friends, close to partner, in singular motion, assist to assist heightening awareness.  Yet only your bodies are in movement, your arms in caressing motion, pulling you forward to destination.

Your swim is a whole body experience necessitating your legs to support your stance, to glide you, to guide you in forward motion.  Your legs must move you inward and outward, they must flutter.

Your legs are flexible not bending.  Toes pointed face to face your kick comes from the base of your ribs.  Your lower body is waving back and forth from breast to toe, in and out.  A kick will break your pairing.  Only by waving your lower body joined tightly to partner, rotating your movement, caressing hands tickling, will your entire body reach its climax, its steady, effortless, breathless motion forward.

We require dear friends air to breath.  Our partners below are fully immersed in liquid, assisting our motion, rotating our closeness, waving our bodies in and out, holding our embrace, appreciating our caress, trusting.  We like our partners dear friends and because of this respect we wish our partners to live as one with us, to breath the same air we breath.

Your breath inward comes as you are fully on one side.  Your partner trusting, their head turned sideways just below the water, cheek to cheek they help you lift your head above the waters edge so you may pull air deeply and purposefully, to grant you energy to continue your dance.

As your turn moves back to center you must begin to exhale, lightly blowing bubbles across your partner’s cheek briefly stopping at centre, lips fixed to lips to share the air you breath, to live loved, as one. 

Your release assured as you continue to rotate to once again pull breath of life, of energy.

In swimming we share two elixirs of life: water and air.  You need never be alone in this very singular of efforts.  Your partner, imaginary they may be, is one in you.  You share an experience of mind rotating to motion, joined rigid centre to centre, moisture passes as bodies caress and legs waiver back and forth inward and outward, air comingle as lips they join in life and closeness.

These lessons be simple, these lessons be real.  Dance to your rhythm.  Live well to your motion. 

Moon's Light

I see you there

As I stare into your light

My eyes water from your aura

And angels come as children

Your brilliance does reveal

You center me in this place

My child of the moon

I am wolf

So singular in purpose

Your wisdom enters my cold heart

And demons melt before your every feel

Pleasure

Can you hear the bells she says

This sound that does entreat

It prays to us humanity

Belief or non-belief

We are called by sounds of happiness

The joy is heard in all

Regardless of our place in life

The sound invades our soul

Can you hear the bells she says

This sound that does entreat

Can you taste the joy in me

Your flavour upon my tongue

Your scent the joy is taste in you

Lives musky upon this face

Your pleasure is a gift of me

The most powerful is now scent

I taste your life’s place centered here

Your place your love’s present

Can you taste the joy in me

Your flavour upon my tongue

Can you see the love in me

My eyes they do reveal

The effect the place the feel I see

Elusive to my space

You can and do remove barriers

Emotional bereft

You fill my vessel with soul food

To write my rites wassail

Can you see the love in me

My eyes they do reveal

Can you do live well with me

In this a garden of pleasure

Your self embodied heart and soul

My self so empty and so full

My art comes forth from my hands

This soul a place misunderstood

We can all understand this world

If we look at each from each here

Can we do well and live with we

Here in this garden place of pleasure

Cripple

Soul thinks himself a cripple too.

His single greatest doubt, or perhaps it is a question.  This is the one that scares Soul most and is also the question most grounded in Soul’s reality.  Does he have the emotional capacity to maintain relationship?

This, the relationship thing, Soul desires above all things, yet he questions it’s reality or more accurately the ability with unrelenting doubt.

Soul’s relationships have all been so temporary.  A string of persons interested in him for his good nature, his kind self; or interested in him because he may be trusting and naïve, perhaps a simpleton; or interested in his money; or because he can be a partner albeit temporary and he will not reveal that which has happened, in other words he will keep your secret.  Even his marriage, so long, resulting in love’s blossoms, yet ending in failure, was so temporary. 

Soul, you do not have emotion, you cannot relate to me, you will not relate to anyone Soul, you are a cripple Soul.  Heard so often, heard too often.

In his life Soul has encountered only a handful of people he could feel.  Special people, so full of life their aura of experience, their gift of feeling could overflow into him connecting Soul to soul.  These people Soul loves most of all.  They are so few, they are so wonderful.

A cripple is as deserving of the human experience as all men and women.  Soul has emotion but it requires igniting.  His ignition comes from the abundance of others, those gifted in sharing and flowing their self to self.  He is not reliant upon those so gifted for life.  Soul is satiated by the love and kindness of the life gifted overflowing.

So Soul has discovered...