Triptych

monday, august 29, 1966
candlestick park

 here

the cyrkle bounces
a red rubber ball.
bobby hebb's sunny
smiling, gives her all.


i am sitting at my first concert.
right field seats.
a birthday present from
my sister, who is on my left.
energetically electric,
there's volcanic excitement
primed to erupt.

hardly daring to breathe,
i instruct self
to sear each moment into Soul,
for this may never come again.

little did i suspect
how correct,
i'd be.

and then,

the announcer
drowned by
a tsunami of sound,
wildly heralds

four brunette british boys,
magically appearing from dugout,
bound for pitcher's mound.

i enter tessellated space:
time accelerating
while ceasing to exist.

i do not banshee scream
hyperventilate,
nor channel maenad.

silent,
i weep from immense
overflowing
heart presence.

i am stretched to encompass
the joy of all creation.

i am her yet again,
here,
there,
everywhere,
every way.

i do not long for yesterday.
when it comes suddenly,
i celebrate it,
imbibe it
relish it,
thanking it
to seed it,
so both power
and summer of love
bloom as new tunes,
this day.



* * * * * * * *



there

november 2009

i am a house guest.
after one dinner, the host vibrates.
eager is he to share concert cd,
prize in his memorabilia collection.
an event he took part in.
startled were my ears,
once again hearing
44 musical minutes, 11 songs.
all i need now is a spritz of
yardley of london
and my jean shrimpton bangs.




* * * * * * * *

august 2009
everywhere

hitting the road as vagabond,
on way to where Spirit wants me next,
i entrust one of my prized possessions
to childhood friends for safekeeping.
now hanging out with janis,
procul harem and grateful dead
from winterland,
is famed beatles poster
san francisco

 
















http://www.beatlesbible.com/1966/08/29/candlestick-park-san-francisco-final-concert/

telerotica

Humid August, mid 1980's.

Full moon companions sleep.

In bed not my own,

caretaker for neighbor,

Curtained 'neath sheers 
while naked on silk,

i lay aside window

open to sky.

Telephone disturbs slumber

and I stumble,

to silence its jangling.

A moonshine soaked, cheroot smoked

vocal growl penetrates eardrum.

Curious is he, this stranger,

as to my identity,

for it is his sister's

speaking he’s seeking.

Once again

pillow propped,

blue shadows

mimic old film projector

flickering through room.

Lunar hour's past midnight,

entering realm of perception

as heightened skin vibrations.

Aroused, another dimension's

Dreamtime made physical.

This masculine timbre

lures me gently,

probing with playful questions.

I drawl responses

as he caresses with story.

A writer, he exposes me,

to Rex, tale of The Reflex Alligator.

I counter pointedly

via banter, thrust and parry.

Edging in closer,

pausing to withdraw,

center is infiltrated.

Throaty chuckles

braille curved surfaces.

Powering this night is

ancient enchantress.

What remains unnamed

is mutual, amid

pulsing liquid discourse.

Masked dancers.

Wordplay as foreplay.

From mouth to ear,

pleasure is mined.

~March 24, 2004