Holding Together 

From the unpublished collection: These Vicissitudes of the Epithelium

Author's Note: Italicized references are listed at the end of the poem. 

I.  Holding Together

Hunters, artists, 
and kings

seek that which is greater 
than themselves
earthen bowls
filled brim-full
with the fruits of the earth
and the kindness of humanity
bowls which are discarded 
without thought,
for they are only bowls,
once the contents
come together
bowls, discarded
like so many clever words, 
shards of substance on the 
hard, cold ground
while the heart of fellowship 
and witnessing
burns evenly, warmly

the waters on the surface of the earth                                                                              
flow together wherever they can                                                                          


Hunters, artists,
and kings

search for Truth, 
for the commonality
of humanity
in dark times

what is required is that we unite
with others, in order that all may complement
and aid one another through 
holding together                                                                                                     

search for the vision
beyond the personal
to break boundaries
and re-arrange categories
creating art, companionship,
sustenance and order
out of chaos and despair
isolation becomes connection
some new meaning
some vast or minor
come together
like so many lonely souls
and form a fellowship
of lonely souls, genuine being
and representation.

Am I equal to the undertaking,
or will union devolve into 
greater confusion?

The question of union,
see, it is wrought with peril
breaking, making and re-arranging
specters of 
the intimacies of mind and matter
easy to loose your head
and without a head
there is no holding together
only fractionation
that delicate balance 
of push and pull
of activity and abstinence
that seductive feel
like the rich and liquid
scent of blooming flowers
smooth, supple, and strong
petals, pistils, stamen
which activate desire, 
as if triggering
some bee-mind
deep within the subject
fear shaking the soul and 
joy echoing throughout
the empty corridors of the mind
can it end like that?
like this?
Or, is it best to seek 
some other organic fellowship?

O Ephraim, what have I to do 
with idols?
It is I who answer and look after you.

Oh, it is peaceful in the cafe 
on a sunny weekday afternoon
the wind outside
the coffee
eyes open, more than usual
it seems I am only 
truly happy
when I am drinking coffee
some methyl-xanthine deficit
to watch others
and smile at their movements,
their happiness, 
their indecision
to sit with books
and pen and pad
breathing in the rich and bitter fumes 
of pulsating life.

Italicized references:
1. I Ching.
2. U.N.K.L.E.,”Psyence Fiction.” 
3. Hosea, 14: 3, 4, 8.