So far in 2009 I’ve gotten news that about a dozen of my poems, and in one case some of my photos, will be published in various formats by various presses at various points in the near future. I’m excited! I won’t go into all the details yet – partly because in a few cases I don’t know the details, and partly because I’d like to wait until closer to the time when the works will be available (for example, one journal is going to use 3 of my poems in their July issue). Please stay tuned….
Most of you know I’ve been going through my old diaries lately. Today I’d like to share a poem I wrote on 9 June 1993 and “abandoned” after a wee bit of strengthening this morning:
Rip Van Wrinkle, About to Be Pressed
Rip Van Wrinkle is about to be pressed
Under an incredible weight of cold
Someone else’s warm gold
Until his celestial unconsciousness
And terrestrial conscience
Awaken in vicious yet voluptuous time.
Rip Van Wrinkle knows not his place of birth
His purpose on earth
But what concern is that
To a man who wanders
By turns glibly and grimly
Across broken dream pavements
Through heretofore unmapped brambles?
Rip Van Wrinkle gambles
That he cannot fail to uncover
The dismal yet fortunate truth
Which in the manner of many before
He might overlook in a restless quest
To confirm his suspicion that somehow
All or none of this is his or god’s mission
Though he doesn’t see much difference.
…When finally the last
Of the gold has been mined
And the press loses its icy heft
Rip Van will awake and thaw
Arise from a decade largely undecayed
And purposefully drive on
A bolder and wiser