shorepound! hit the humerus cartwheel brakes, sensei!
chasing the wild licketysplickt apprentice to the butterfly we sip absinthe champagne between the sunflowers supine neath the overheated hummingbird giggles and the happy-hour yawns of morning glories; nasturtiums waving their florid hankies at our camp-meeting revival Halleujah Sister, Halleleujah! Leggys, Sacha and Prince D'Artagnan observe their sermon in fur
somehow in the long garden grass of late summer we caught ourselves on a bodhisattva picnic lean back into the gentle cricket breeze satori & let this moment of God come forth escaped from Seasons' hoarde
Most passing fair She as dark whens shook Love's summer spun til leaf in curl of child locks caught a glimpse thru paned rime overwrought dropped we windows wide enough to pawn the night and encapsulated double-aught
- well after all, how much is a lot?
taste the question mark again
Enough! tho for naught
closed these eyes to splendor
for I yearn Her raptures even yet
lest auld acquaintance be forgot
C’est le bon Pan, le grand pasteur (....) Le temps
concorde avec cette interprétation qui est la mienne, car ce Pan très bon,
très grand, notre unique sauveur, mourut près de Jérusalem, sous le règne
de Tibère César à Rome.
-Rabelais, 1532: Gargantua & Pantagruel; Quart Livre
For Pan himselfe was their inheritaunce,
And little them served for their mayntenaunce.
The shepheards God so wel them guided,
That of nought they were unprovided,
Butter enough, honye, milke, and whay,
And their flockes fleeces, them to araye.
[Great Pan is Christ, the very God of all shepheards, which calleth himselfe the greate and good shepherd. The name is most rightly (me thinkes) applyed to him, for Pan signifieth all, or omnipotent, which is onely the Lord Jesus.]
-Edmund Spenser 1579: The Shepheardes Calender; ÆGLOGA QUINTA Maye
Take thou no scorn to wear the horn
It was the crest ere you were born:
Thy father’s father wore it,
And thy father bore it:
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn
‘Tis not a thing to laugh to scorn.
-Shakespeare, 1599: As You Like It: Act 4, Scene 2
Cherub smoke surrounding
lips put to the pipe
wanton shade, charged air
stag breath, beechnut
where horn would curl unfashioned
rampant with newborn needs
wandering neath willow
willful for the reeds
Dreadful festive frantic power
force, pheromone & fur
revel in the fingering of figures
& kiss of embouchure
ninny haunched old urgings lean
molesting unforgotten Dream
tripping tongues of dogma
to stutter sermons in the stream
By the ambrosial beard of brine & honey mingled!
sweet release & escapade!
shivering cape of sparrows
share prayers & passion's played
Whistling past the Rune
whose veins would poet trace
beneath the shadow of the thrill
prance cross palimpsest
O, Thrice Blest!
Wild, the refuge
of rough read Pan's
hours & season's endless dance
stamping hoof at the edge of Dawn
Now's At Last!
All woe, be gone!