a pablo neruda

Pablo Neruda:
"Investigations"

I asked of every thing
if it had
something more,
something more than shape and form,
and I learned that way that nothing is empty--
everything is a box, a train, a boat
loaded with implications,
every foot that walked along a path
left a telegram written in the stone,
and clothes in the washing water
dripped out their whole existence.
I went from country to country, never knowing
where to put down my bundle, now so heavy,
loaded with all my knowings,
till with so much seeing and knowing,
moving and moving, asking and asking
every chair, every stone, and later
so many men who never answered,
they got me used to answering myself,
replying to myself without speaking,
talking with no one, to amuse myself.
Perhaps it's what happens to a blind man
who from so much not seeing then sees everything
and in a single focusing
sees
with all the intensity of aa diver
who descends one single well in the whole ocean
and in that place all the fish are gathered.

longing

I long for a community of my own. for collaborators. for a chance to make some art that really means something to me. for a feeling of going forward. of stepping in and stepping down. clinching with my fist. for someone to give me an idea a direction a commission. a mission. sitting idle drives me nuts. art supplies laying about the hard wood floor taunting me. so close so close don’t touch don’t touch. pen and paper not satisfying. wordless. wanting to be wreckless and hopeful. to reach out to spit to vomit to uncontrollably respond. maybe I’m just not inspired. not spontaneous. been a long time.
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love these souls

my southern pals: ross from alabama and estelle from north carolina.

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just got my certificate from "Locks of Love"... my eleven inches of curly brown hair will make some lovely girl a beautiful wig. to donate your hair to locks of love, go to: www.locksoflove.org