Peanut Butter & the Wild Wagon

A BREATHER, BASIC OF ALL

"When you sleep, be the sleeper."
--Za Rinpoche

Only daily reminders
Hearing speech in syllables
Not doing so many things
Pretty soon we start counting
I am happiness worthy
Telling us to see our light
Counting lines to seven stops
What voice says, Don't be happy?
Nobody gives the order
Lone walker in the death house
Monkey Mind Oh Monkey Mind
Seven Syllable Notebook
Just watching thought like a zipper
Control mind and go insane
Seeing thought like clouds in sky
Watch how we create stories

Jim Bodeen
6 November 2010


DICEY

Wonder of wonders
Seldom arrives as God's name
Each breath--gift, not chance

Jim Bodeen
4 November 2010


HEADLINE IN YAKIMA HERALD-REPUBLIC
ON ALL SOULS DAY, DAY OF THE DEAD, NOVEMBER 2, 2010:
RED TIDE SWEEPS OVER U.S.

No Red Tide washes over me.

Jim Bodeen
3 November 2010



BELLS HANGING FROM MY REAR VIEW MIRROR

Three bells hang from my rear view mirror.
Tiny ones, with clappers, and they ring.
I picked them up at the Handbell Concert
to help me remember music Karen

rings into the world. Just after returning
from Jalos, en los altos de Jalisco.
Also hanging from the mirror
is a painted cross from El Salvador,

one in bright colors with white houses
and red roofs, with children flying red kites--
and then, a Dream Catcher with a descending feather
made by Sioux students from the school

at Wounded Knee. I do know about shrines
built by Mexican bus drivers around their mirrors.
I did not buy the key chain with the image
of Santo Toribio Romo, santo de los mojados,

but I took 500 photos of our footsteps. Christ
is not dying on the cross. Here children fly kites.
The Dream Catcher's vibration feels like the breath
of Crazy Horse. Bells ring for anyone making

safe passage. Fue como infantil profecía.
Salió el rancho para ser sacerdote, dice Toribio.
Estilo campesino es mi rumbo. May I live this day
hearing the music given to me.

Jim Bodeen
27 July 2008


AFTER BREAD AND PEANUT BUTTER, BEFORE NAPS

I pull Sammie and Josh up the hill
in the red wagon, thinking of Lynda's story
in The Times on Snyder revisiting his old place
in Lake City before his reading tonight
at Benaroya Theatre. Last night
Karen and I sat with women listening
to Mary Oliver say, Prayer is paying attention.
Snyder says you must walk the neighborhood
to know it--cars erase contours, anesthetize
riders. After North Dakota, Lake City served
as refuge for Dakota families. Snyder and Oliver,
grandparents on successive nights. Karen and I,
grandparents every night, every night blessed.
This red wagon replaces the wheelbarrow.

Jim Bodeen
27 May 2009