The Out Father ((A poem with Commentary)(for kids without fathers))

The Out Father


The absent father I thought I needed
the one I swore I did—
thick with tears,
somewhere along the old dirt road
I lost him—
with kind, kind wings
I found the Lord,
he walked that same old dirt road
alone
I saw him
and heart to heart
we talked, as we walked
(and I found my way around him).

And by the lower stars in heaven
and by his kindly heart he sent
an angel called Sorr’el
to guide me,
with holy psalmodies,
and holy sentiments…

Perhaps his arms I used as pillows
for sweetly I’d sleep so sound
“Come here to me,” the Lord would whisper
“I’ll never let you down.”

Oh I thought my father would do me right
but now I know it’s not so,
but I bless him for giving me life,
and I suppose that will have to do!

Had he come back that aye be his,
and I’d still be all alone, I’d guess
fear is not so sweet,
it can be
a hypocrite.

And so my thanks—now old and gray,
comes to lie, bosom and all,
to heaven’s royal hosts,
encamped upon the clouds.


Note: What we think we need what we need, is not necessarily good for us all the time; if one thing is taken away, perhaps we can find a replacement, substitute, a good roll model (I found several); one needs simple to have faith, to be ready to hold onto his or her heart, fortify it with a chaste beat, then with it comes, in its armory of light, take use of it, it is for you, you’ll find it yields to you. Remember, hell has darts: they make you hold onto things not meant to be.

Poem: 2597 4-20-2009 (you know who this is dedicated to)

Two Poems on the Amazon, and a Philosophy

The Giant Toad
(…of the Amazon)


One night after dinner my wife and I heard the wings of birds fighting in the dark: and with a few lit gas lamps along the wooden walkway of our campsite, we still couldn’t see a thing, though, only the walkway. Past our hut flowed the steady beating of the wings.

The Amazon is never settled down, gloomy at night it can be, the sounds dominate, takes the edge off a man, or puts them on—, possibly defeat might be the thing it seeks.

A huge brown toad stood in the outhouse (that evening), looking at me, like a rhino, just staring (‘…what a time to rush me,’ I thought). “Now its toads…” I said to myself “What next?”

#1221 12/16/06



Little Kingdoms
of the Amazon

In the Amazon
there are kingdoms
breathing, eating
roaming about
in perfect harmony
(insects and birds,
monkeys and wildcats
and macho black ants!)
that is why the
Amazon
is never quiet
it’s those foot-steps,
moving all night
and all day—long!

#1225 2/20/06 I had spent a week in the Peruvian Amazon, deep into its interior, it is never silent, and at night, it seems even more so, as if the whole environment is restless.


Philosophy of the Amazon


All will vanish in time. And so we build statues, monuments to be remembered by, but these too will disappear as the stars will but nothing stops us from building a little world beyond the grave, thinking ‘I will return on the ramparts of the city of the gods.’ Somewhere along the line, we learn three things: deep in man’s genes, is the primeval monster, the Tiamat. We learn, whatever we do, it is only important in this immediate effect. We learn, all will vanish, and if we do not discover these things in the little time we have, we still die. In the Amazon, it is better to learn how to swim, to hunt, and to be watchful, everything else I just said is gobbledygook, to the natives there. Dlsiluk (4-2009)

Thumbs, Crumbs, Life, and the Beyond! ((A philosphy)(part one of two))

Thumbs, Crumbs, Life, and the Beyond!
((A philosophy) (part one of two))

We learn by what we lack, it is a simple statement, and not oversimplified by no means just cut your two thumbs off and try to eat! If you don’t thank God for your thumbs now, you will then. We learn by what we lack, a good thing to remember. We must admit, God’s handiwork is something to take note of. In most cases once it is done, it can never be undone.
On another similar note, you don’t know what hunger is, not until all you have to eat is someone else’s crumbs, and if they are taken away one would tear out his beard, I’m sure if he had one.
When I was on my twenty-year drunk, I could not smell the sweet smells of the flowers; feel the coolness of the evenings. Appreciate the light from the moon, the rambling stars. If we do not discover these things in the little time we have, we die, and then who will be your witness? Let’s hope one does not have to regret, what then?
All will vanish in time. This often times brings a person to the point of not wanting to be alone. And so we build statues, monuments to be remembered by, but these too will disappear as all mankind will one day; as the stars will, all lost to forgetfulness.
So true is the old way of thinking: man comes upon earth, and he rules a little space, like a god. But time is his master, and death has no remedy. Death, my death, the fear of it, at one point urged, or edged, me to action; and the beyond, the hereafter. If not in reality in the imagination, we all want to carry on. So we push upon the generations we live, like Hemingway, and Faulkner, and the great generals, and kings and presidents, and painters (Picasso, Dali, etc.,) musicians, building a little world for them beyond the grave, thinking they will return on the ramparts of the city of the gods.
Deep in man’s genes, is the primeval monster, the Tiamat.
Habits, build on top of ones character, they actually build character, and somehow man came to the decision we all arrived here by chance. If I ask you for reason of why you think, or reason as you do this or that, you will tell me I’m unreasonable. But if you are right, we often, more often than not, act spontaneous; thus, chance has a big job to do.
We know if the sun or a star was to kiss our lovely earth, we’d burn up. It is like the lust of a man, is it not.
And so I gain all this wisdom, and I die. Now my neighbor, he has gained none, he’s lazy bum, and he dies. Now the ignorant is equal to the wise, where is the catch? It is only important in its immediate effect.
We want to cover the world with democracy; this is the new world trend. Has been only for a short time, compared to time past; hoping to produce pleasant waters for the careless; deep-driven we are to do so. Unfortunately, we have not learned how to swim back to reality; we are a hive of wild bees.

I know, we all have fine phrases, but we never live by them, and we also have immaterial ideas. We no longer live by them either. The Golden Age of Man has long past, we are now in the “Trying Age” and keep trying we do, and do and do, and try to outdo.