What’s this?

"There is more in heaven and earth, Horatio,
than is dreamt of in your philosophy."
--Hamlet


I name people pedestrians for walking,
and lazy for sitting, and you
beautiful for your rigor in organizing yourself
in black and white.
And the boy, he’s rude
for stinking up the train
with McDonalds’ smell and noisy wrappers.

But this is only helping me
to see what is merely human.
This is not bringing birdsong to my ear
with all its secrets on silence.

From the air
I pick a part and say, “Skylark.”
“Crow” or “Jay.”

Limiting things to what I think they are,
I comb my hair
like the picture in the mirror.


by jerry gordon
8.30.06

Bon Voyage

for makimaki

Life is, in deed, so interesting.
Changing within each wind, clouds meet,
become and depart clouds.
We leave belongings
in each other’s pockets.
Today you planted the seed--
“Funky Anarchist”--
inside the garden of my heart.
I know it will one day bloom,
but not how I’ll recognize the flower.
It will be good;
it’s my life.


by jerry gordon
8.16.06

Hi Steve, I’m Here

for Steve in Hawaii


I’m here,
where the blue begins
and the clouds end.
I’m not waiting,
and so you'll find me.
I’m here
holding enough of nothing
to keep my hands open.

There are others here,
but their shining bodies and mine are of
different perfections.
My cell phone has remained stolen,
and so there’s no reception here.
I have no shoes
when I’m not walking.
Here, the rustic lush is swarming
just beneath the concrete.
The grass is wild.
I don’t know the names of
these flowers yet to bloom.
I’m sitting in only one spot
and my eyes are closed
half the time.

I’ll see you soon and we will talk.


8.15.06