Sunday, September 23, 2007


" a poem should be as exciting as a laundry list or a grocery lists
or written just for the hell of it " -
ancient sage


by Gordon Coombes

as if a thousand Avatars of Brahma waited dreaming
deep inside of us
as if Buddha Christ Mohammad Moses Abraham
Lao Tzu & Confucius were congregated sharing their visions
deep inside of us
as if Vishnu Shiva Krishna & Kali were swirling around dancing
amongst the stars deep inside of us ‑

as if a new era were to dawn
repenting of all that we regretted
as if we could see clearly
while swimming in our mental stew
of stray thoughts & memories
wishing we were like a diamond
being totally aware
as if this were too much
as if to imagine it all in such detail
the color of the carpet of the walls
always red & white
the ceiling the bookcase
the chesterfield the fireplace
or lack there of
as if it were a textbook
as if it means nothing to you
a weekend or a decade of memories
gone in an instant
as if love were breaking its vows
a solace to some despair for others
enter & despair
as if it were a wintry Christmas day
as if it were Easter morning
the world of a child
Christmas trees & lights
chocolate bunnies & cowboy hats
as if each morning the messiah arrives
as welcome as the beloved-

as if the minimal artist
practiced his art to perfection
one day sat at his table by the window
in some out of the way cafe
exclusive to poor artists
he never moved or spoke again
the proprietor failed to notice
him for a week or two
as if he only allowed himself to see
what he needed to see
soon he would not need to see at all
to be without these impediments
seeing hearing tasting feeling
as if they were all part of the illusion
of the greatest & first magician-

as if joy & happiness
were commodities to be bought & sold
as if despair & misery were free of charge
as if ordering takeout
of one emotion or another
available in sixty-four flavours
as if we could choose
as if the past were of no consequence
as if we were a blank slate
as if we were born filled to the brim
of all that has been
as if we had arrived in that brave new world
we had always feared
as if all around us were robots
thinking machines of wheels & cogs
never regretting
their preplanned conversations
their preplanned lives
even their wild care-free days planned in detail
living it up in their college years
a hundred one night stands
a hundred bodies left behind
of those who never made the grade
who didn’t quite fit in
it’s just a bunch of sad little cliches beyond that
as they claw their way to success
insisting on the party line
of the new status quo-

see you later,

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