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Jimmy Warner's Wild Moon Transit

                July 99 

GLIMPSES   
From Desert of Forms

A zillion fleeting glimpses
of God, self,
or the transcended other,
makes no difference.

We are here for two seconds
and think we know something.
I define myself no better
though I love sharing the glimpses.

I can't turn one consistent face
toward you like a moon
to reveal what you need to know,
what you think you need to see.

I will drag you across the world
through all its feeble history,
surprise, shock and horrify,
love, hate and humorize you.

So take each view as it comes,
rapture in a mirror, screams in a void,
whatever defines duration here,
paltry seconds or eons at a time.

  AQUERULO FRAGMENTUS

We have come from Southern Ape to Aquarian Ager.
This illustrated man is just a sample of the kind
of glimpses that I wish to present on this page.
People are expecting a new age while dragging in all of the historical baggage of past experiments, disappointments, useless implements, and symbols
that have been repainted so many times that
the original has been lost.

In my wild moon transit I will share old stuff and new, and show you how the moon brings out the survival instinct as it applies to poetry and symbol, depicting the shimmering trail some fear to blaze.

I will introduce you to a world of music and magic
you may never have known or been allowed to enter.

DARE TO TOUCH MY ANTIQUE PIANO

You'll have to do more than polish it.
Admiration won't improve its wooden warmth.
Sit down, put tension between the notes
with semitones closely arranged
or spaced out over the keyboard
transposed into separate octaves;
loosen the nameless chords you make
as they fly from undefined roots;
chase the night sounds freed from staves,
no longer bound to music.
Dare to coax these old keys
and with a touch release impossibility.

 

In Zambia there is a saying:

Konca umulungu ule sanga ichalo.

Follow the stars and you will find the world.

What the most startling thing is

that the word for world means eternity.

The world will be here after we are gone.

Only the stars can teach us to live in harmony.

All religion and philosophy came out of Africa

to form the ones we fight over so bitterly today.

What goddess requires YOUR total surrender?

If we beg, pray to Binti and grovel real hard,

if we do good things, will she  help us?

Read the stars, she put them there like a map,

solidified from all of our hopes and dreams.

 

The Tour Ends For Today

We take our torches to the cavern dark of a still pool,

an emotional message boils up, chattering fools fall silent.

Geysers fume among the painted symbols in the rocks

where ancient pointing-bones once flooded into piles.

The calcified cave wash leads us back into burrows and tombs.

Knee-bent, crouching with curiosity, we stoop where the gods

once chewed up the last of the sacred mushrooms.
 

Jimmy's poetry table of contents

© Jimmy Warner 1999