to The Druid of Marinettey(ish) / pleased to see you

—

[i leaned on your wheel to keep my balance]

[a stout cudgel is indeed imposing, to a ruffian or a lout?  semantics?]

[i will gladly pour the chablis into the chalice.  chab-liss, chal-ees?  etymology?]

—

my offering for today is what i call a laugh-ku…

—

energies converge,

zen lunacy meets the grove

with Oneida-heart.

…

— (hart-booms) —

…

i am wolf

Lanuh is wolf

we are nomads

seeking wisdom.

i have 37 years.

all i need is a canoe…

can-oe?

can you?

my friends, i bid thee

farewell

until

tomorrow.

—

GJK

26MAR12

08:09 CDT

from WRIGHT THE BOOK, F***ER

chapter thirty-three

 

—

i feel the end is near, this tale is winding down; it could go on forever certainly it could i could just keep typing scribbling sketching poeming for the rest of my life, which i know i will, but no one wants to hear all that – no one has time and after all i’m just a guy with too much time on his hands a man a feeler a healer a player of instruments and my best is in this, in worlds of words of whirlwinds of spiteful emotional bursts and ecstatic beamings of the divine… my whole life is here for you to have, well, not the whole, but most.  i cannot begin to comprehend how to end this, this book, this beginning… i am spinning.  it has to end somehow, some way.

—

but how?

with a lesson?

a conclusion?

—

naw…

—

with more UNABATED UNFURLINGS of the self.

—

 

*               *               *

 

—

GJK

22MAR12

12:01 am

(Men.MI)

—

to all who follow GJK

—

hello friends,

thank you for your interest in my work.

i would like to encourage you in your own

creative striving; and also, please visit

my sister-and-brother-poets’

wordpress pages.

annie e and radloff poetry are dear friends

of mine… college companions from a decade

ago, and still dreaming…

—

see my blogroll for their links,

and thanks again!

laugh-ku, three for two (is it you?)

—

i’m a space-man and

time-traveler too is me

this is literal

—

stone-space and low-time

harmonies wind thru cedar

you can space/time warp

*     *     *

[you travel simply

-   -   -   -   -   -   -

just as well as me]

—

GJK

21MAR12

04:22 CDT

a conversation with my self, 20MAR12

—

to all you music lovers

out there,

—

i have given myself

yet another name:

—

me is MC djk

cuz all y’all that know me

know that d. is my love

and poetry is my life

and poetry is music

and muse-sick is me,

wicked-mad dharma bum

rock drummer

jazz groover

hip-hop-itty bopper

and my MC skills are off the chain,

for real, daddio, if MC means rocking my own house,

so come on over…

—

and do it quick,

‘fore the copious rights-and-priveleges lawyers

tear this whole nugfut down;

time is now and the matrix is expanding

but

it will blow up

one day

—

and when that day comes

how many of you know

exactly how

to find

the real

me?

—

[dedicated to m.rad, lanuh, maus, annie, and john r.]

—

GJK

20MAR12

21:53 CDT

vernal equinox 2012

—

tonight moon is chagrined

but somewhere sun shines

as marley sings i smoke

in the driveway

tiny frogs trill

the swamps seethe

with insect life

awakened early this year

—

we are running short of time.

you there, silver poet of any continent,

i see your lunar explosions

i see mercury and mars above

but venus sits here with me

in the middle of north america

—

i sit here

now speaking to you,

silver poet of australia,

i am telling you

that i love the night

but my awareness has lightened,

it struggles less, and with this

new easing of burdens

i have discovered

my own fire

my own spark

to light the void

—

and i am

the blazing golden sun

of marinettey

—

now i burst forth

with john butler trio tunes

vibrating my entire being

—

i am now sun and moon

north and south

east and west

—

i am evolving,

the seasons twist together,

we are entwined,

everyone

—

we are running short on time.

—

GJK

19MAR12

23:33 CDT

ablutions, this morning

—

her mouth was the ocean,

i was the board

with two feet firmly planted

on the surface.

—

the darting tongue was the wind

in my face; the gleam of eyes

was the crest

—

and then the falling

thru oblivion

—

awakening upon sunbleached sand.

—

 

GJK

19MAR12