Poem by Jim Culleny
……………. All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays…
……………. All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays…
Down to the Bone If I could un-ring certain bells and un-wind time I would, but can’t, so instead, I’ll just ride this bucket of bones till the wheels fly off; till ball-joints grind and drop from sockets, till this xylophone of ribs riffs the music of the spheres, until my funny…
…..Why Being? What happens, happens before & after, every time, without fail, always— yet, is singular, is a one-note affair in a symphony of nows each moment of which then becomes before & after, simultaneously. If this seems confusing, blame time, or life, or God which, in particular, has been a widespread explanation of the…
A Simple Ontology maybe flower petals are held to stems by thought and the wind’s a counter-thought that plucks and sets them elsewhere in the grass to grow in contemplative resolution beside my notion of a grub-pulling crow maybe the wind itself is a palpable bright idea, something about motion and the abhorrence of vacuums, something about…
Eternal Day-long Sum The music of what happens begins with a bottom line of drums, as in the foundation of a house, percussion— the thumps of bass in sync with a wind of horns: baritone, bassoon, tuba; and in the whispers of brushed snares, the round tones of tympany, and in the rests between —the…
“All humans are, genetically, 99.9% identical” ………..—Roger Highfield, Science Editor 99% Identical “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,” a poet said imagining friendly neighbors working their way along that which stood between resetting fallen gneiss and granite loaves and balls fallen to each to keep their wall intact while one questioned the irony of…
A Cornucopia of Elegies as clear as time when the air was green and tenderfeet knew the ballet of beginning, a tern-like teen on one leg in the surf of a sea, a swift on a draft of blinks in the hour of someday-but-not-now— . time is a cornucopia of elegies, the master of poets complicit since the word…
Tell me Something I don’t Know Don’t tell me the earth’s a sphere and the sun’s kiss amounts to half-day terminal bliss with a dark end, or that seasons have to do with angles, mystics have to do with angels, and lovers are about orbiting passions, that pulse like binary stars across light years and…
The Tao that can be thought of is not the real Tao; therefore, the Tao that can be spoken is not real either; so, the Tao that can be named is likewise no thing too. ………. —Lao Tzu, sort of My Religious life I was Catholic, but was not universal enough when I was. I…
Sublime I sometimes shudder at old pics, their bittersweetness, their cutting edge, their tricks: ….. daughter’s brilliant smiles, ….. mittens hung from cuffs, ….. Kodachrome taunts of time ….. —enough I’d rather mine old stones, turn up what’s scattered within my heart and head ….. —the gold I’d rather stick with what’s been deeply sown,…
1/1/26 Typhoon USA Aftermath Premonition —This is a revised version of a poem I wrote when a newly insane river running through our town one day came through, almost over-toping bridges, spilling into streets with wild abandon during Hurricane Irene. One year back the river tore through on its fall to the sea, courts and laws…
Rapprochement: Just wondering if worlds seen from a distance are really smaller than they are. . . And could it be that when we sleep the world we leave goes on without us? .. Maybe you remember the old days too, days when greenhorns multiplied their joys and were thoughtless as a new moon. Is it…
Two young men greeted a new crew member on a ship’s quarterdeck 60 years ago and, in a matter of weeks, by simple challenge, introduced this then 18-year-old who’d never really read a book through, to the life that can be found in them. —Thank you Anthony Gaeta and Edmund Budde for your life-altering input.…
The writer died while mixing with the rebels, these are natural accidents of war . . . —Spanish Dictator Francisco Franco The country has to toughen up … part of the problem is nobody wants to hurt each other anymore, right? —US president, Donald Trump The Last Days of Federíco García Lorca Federico in pajamas…
First Communion Three bells rung thrice boys kneeling, a candle at the altar burning, god’s portrait on the ceiling, priest lifts a holy wafer, do mythic circles make us safer? Priest bowing priest turning, golden chalice drunk dry, should I laugh or should I cry, once more, with feeling: a greenhorn skater on the ice,…
“lacrimae rerum, “ (the tears of things) …………………………………….. —Virgil Everything Cries Steel’s tears are rust, trees weep tears of falling leaves, clouds weep and mourn their loss sacrificing their billows to the earth as rain, the earth weeps its carbon into sky, the sun weeps its energy into earth and will die someday of the loss,…
A Matter of Love The question, “Can you tell me a certain thing that is a moral fact?” is specious, because the fact of the “certain thing” exists as a thing essential to the survival of homo sapiens in creating civilization. But civilization is not always up to the task of protecting its essential, instead,…
Fire in the Brain God is a fire in the brain Nijinsky saidwhich is as close to the truth asanything a dancer might dancewith a bonfire burning in his head God may put you in a trance with the fluttering of cardinal wings or with the way the moon looks mounting the mountain’s back on…