WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT SNOW GHOSTS
Maybe I was given too many
tall peaks, the wild poet says.
The pastor says, Someday,
you'll have to come down
from that mountain. Another poetasks me what a mountain is.
I ski in a basin called a begging bowl
located on a mountain I've never seen the top of.
I stand, like another poet says,
one foot shorter than the other.This is a way of walking,
the oldest poets say,
an odd way walked by
common ones laying
animal skins over white bones
where one never arrives
but crosses snow fields
singing ejaculates of movements among the unseen.
Jim Bodeen
11 December 2010
LA LUNA CAFÉ
Raúl's baby blue guayabera in a shopping bag
placed into my hand by his daughter
On a hanger by my bed gathering light
from the receding solstice sun
Jim Bodeen
10 December 2010
STOPPED EYES WATCHING AND OPEN
Goat on Highway 12
Hooves leap rock transporting cliff
Start winter on skis
Jim Bodeen
8 December 2010
THRESHOLD IN SNOW
Skis transport
Skiing is transportation
Skis take one into the poem
Monks on skis
Carthusians in France
Praying for me
Praying for us all
On skis
Easy tracks in the begging bowl
Sliding into Paradise Basin
Falling, digging ourselves into deep
Jim Bodeen
9 December 2010
Posts
the goat in snow is the thought of a poem on the page, without tracking without marking, we take it in with a breath, the untouched white on white. i like this next to the rain glazed asphalt with street light reflection, a surface beckons. a service i reckon. kjm
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