poetryrepairs #245 18.01:006

Frederick Bauman: Fun Undone
Frederick Bauman : Presence

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Frederick Bauman
Fun Undone

Distant waves rolling closer submitting to shore Tickling our toes sighing into relief in retreat Captured by the illusion that this is all for us Silence moves down through what parts of our bodies We’re able to sense summoning us to awaken To this tiny experience of eternity Breath now seems to command our attention We feel as if two separate parts of ourselves Have united inviting almost summoning An actual awakening to a desire-less state Nothing at all mystical about this It’s just another day at the beach Where there happens to be an amusement park Giant Ferris wheel lifting up passive humans For a view of oil tankers appearing on horizon After several circuits restlessness gnaws at humans Who are gently returned to earth’s surface Just in time to be pulled by desires for new thrills Roller coaster lifts them up slowly until the bottom drops out Illusion of conquering fear emerges in brains Divorced from body’s natural squeamish discomfort Driving bumper cars into stranger’s bumper cars Delusions of power arise only to be smashed As some stranger smashes sideways into us Sudden roar announces Blue Angel soaring in close formation One at a time each plane peels off from formation Until each pirouettes back into place Blindly admiring this precision gives way to irritation At not having been able to inspire others like this Jet roar gradually fades out to silence challenging us To amount to more than credit cards mortgages and children’s tuition All swept away by downing wax cupped beer and Nathan’s hot dog Settling in stomach as a challenge to satisfaction Overhead a single engine plane pulls along a long spelled out advertisement Inviting us to buy chocolate flavored laxatives Outer smile of condescension covers up unformed realization Gradually swelling in chest and expanding through body Now mostly formed but entirely undefinable Yet recognized as an invigorating form of relaxation Inviting us to participate in a process of awakening Transforming our perceptions of everyday experience As impressions of the outer world revitalize within us Drifting thoughts tug us up into dreams – toward fun But a call from our newly invigorated center opens up A sense of something approaching unity As if the entire cosmos were reassembling itself As this new experience of ourselves as beggars Holding our tin cups before each passing stranger Favorite songs from adolescence reverberate in our ears Evoking hints of pleasures re-emerging as images Propped up by immature fears of inadequacy Yet melody and lyrics still enchanting into dreams That we are Gawain or even the Green Knight Or Elvis gyrating on the Ed Sullivan show Yet even another sip of coffee cannot prolong the illusion That remembered songs are like hissing flat tires Crippling our much valued fantasy lives As a great blue heron glides precisely to lake’s shore Settling quickly into shallow water stepping slowly in quiet Attentiveness enabling it to snatch up the fish it needs To prolong survival of its chicks through next winter Through our dreams of escaping frozen sufferings Through death and decay as beak and feather dissolve As we stand graveside mourning our old friend Who played stickball with us shared first cigarette Chattered about first sexual encounters All of this leaving a sense of emptiness expanding from Stomach’s pit up backbone subsuming thought Are there any pleasures left un-subsumed Beautiful black swans gliding across waters Suddenly snap at our ankles chasing us Away from passive admiration of nature Which appears now within us as our own natures Giving a sense that we are now – momentarily – complete Yet unable to interact within the outer world in this new state Slowly we become aware of our own atmosphere through which We receive impressions of plants and movements and people As these new energies come into us something is exchanged outwardly Giving us a shocking realization that we have responsibilities Each action even emotion leaves its effect wherever we go Like drops of morning dew on daffodil pedals Like carbon monoxide accumulating in earth’s atmosphere As our usual arrogance gradually fades into self-questioning Something much finer finds its way into us from above

poetryrepairs #245 18.01:006





Frederick Bauman
Presence 

For Ivan Arguelles
There was a time when winds spoke wisdom in our ears There will be a time when each ray of sunlight awakens mysteries Now is the time – crux of past and future blossoming There never was eternity – never will be eternity Never was a time with hidden meaning – never will be All mysteries awaken within us only now Winds blowing away dust reveal ancient skulls Winds blowing away dust reveal endless cycles Birth and death and birth and death and birth Nothing prearranged on a chessboard – no prime mover Rolling bishop between thumb and middle finger contemplating Our fate – not even interested in our future It’s not the seed awakening in moist dirt Knowing immediately to send stalk up roots down It’s an inner quality more subtle than silence More sacred than heroism or dust – a tree Made not of chemical transformations but of Light finer than reflections or myths – of presence As pages of Homer’s Odyssey shrivel up and blow away Phantoms of ancient heroes submit to conscience Inviting us all to continual rebirth in this continuous present 2 So now that we’re somewhat here in the present A sense of actually inhabiting our bodies Manifesting causing the veil of surrealism to lift Words begin to cohere into sentences Attuning themselves through and Impressions coalescing to replicate The actual world long hidden by endless Self-centered postulations and speculations That had fogged up our brains decade after decade Yet stepping out into life our self-deception Spins out cotton candy replication Covering our actual experience with sticky fibers Squashing our possibilities with intricate Sentimental delusions enhancing self-pity As crows descend on roadkill picking it apart As nature constantly churns her charges we see Nothing but candy fibers we take for angels Celebrating our erudition our insight Yet as brilliant nighttime stars touching us Yield to false dawn then to real dawn we sense Intense reds and yellows as messengers here to… 3 Burn away all our minutely constructed suffering The ease with which we cling to dead perceptions As our puzzlement also burns away Knowledge lifts away like a painted backdrop Revealing a new understanding of the dusty stage Where we’ve strutted out our false certainties Northern harrier’s yawp might chase off Red shouldered hawk as territory is established Like self-defining assumptions within us Banished by the manifestations of presence Moving down through us awakening acceptance Of undefined sensations resounding within us Impressions of finer materiality than thought Dissolving emotions long atrophied within us Even while taking in TV impressions Constant reportage of terrorist attacks Can’t numb us into hatred if we open To whatever impressions and sensations Compose our actual experience of being Alive like monarchs returning to ancient home We return to our sense of self in the present

poetryrepairs #245 18.01:006






   




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REPAIR: resort, frequent or habitual going; concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; making one's way; to go, betake oneself, to arrive; return to a place; to dwell; to recover, heal, or cure; to renew; to fix to original condition. -- Oxford English Dictionary


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