Just before Dark
for Diane
We come back and do not get lost
in our shadows. You smile and wait
for me at the bottom of the stairs.
The wise man accosted you about your wisdom,
the wisdom of your heart
which, held in my hands,
fluttered to a stop. We came to
a stop. We came apart like a smile.
This is the way. The way to emptiness.
Put out the light. See how the night is dark—
dark with chance. The city rises up
in blue velvet from the earth.
The moon is parked in the dust.
Fog covers the windows, fog
covers the land. We uncover
our shadows and put them on like fog.
Our shadows grow into us and do not get lost.
Fog and our shadows go to bed together.
They transpose bodies. My shadow
belonged to you. Now night has
put an end to the dreams of our shadows.
1964
The moon and I aren't friends
since it failed to drive me
crazy. Now I look at it,
a cold coin swelling
up over the Panhandle,
seducing eucalyptus
to heavy-rooted dances.
Traffic flicks down Fell St.,
rows of lights,
rubber-tired swishing moans,
throats of adoration
for the moon. The moon
goes up on edge and rolls
straight west out over
the ocean and sinks
like an iron grapefruit.
Some nights I can see your face
and some nights I can't.
That is the pleasure of the moon.
1965
Bebop & Lullaby To The Goddess Whore City San Francisco
I pad around your dome-toppd
crown of emptiness & jewel'd light
O City
soft on cat feet
stoned eyes bugged out behind clear focus sharp
perfect angel vision
hungerless holy stomach tight
body lit w/ grace instinct movement
brain new birthd innocent infant fearless
Curious dream search
Propels my tireless loping strides day & night & day again—
swift lung-heave over measureless hills
I'm seeking a cave to hide in
lie down in your arms of night
wrap myself around your hidden Body
trace your skin of dream-seducing Sleep
easing my spider thoughts of trapped streets
stopped clocks &
black rainbow cave behind green dream-web
O wake up new to
your sea of white buildings blue bay &
sun glinting off bridges
high in the East
lighting up dewy clock time hands on Ferry building's face
far below near water's edge
1966
Horn in the morning why
am I dead in your soft love
brass melting my night long
thoughts, the small lists
of rats on a wheel to keep from
being smeared in mirror photo-still
remembering the pretense
giving me the energy
solitary knowledge of my arrival
to robothood; the hypocrite—
my shadow on the wall. So
wife by blind luck; love blinds her eyes
to this weakness for a fatal light,
a card, a door, dreams
the ambushes of remorse
that cannot be repeated
even by lovers
who lie to one another,
the walls of self-exile jammed closer
by the stupid hand of self
waving in spite / of
seeing this is our flesh singing
the shame of the waste of our lives
Days of thinking like snow
falling and drifting,
the plan never complete
buried by our hesitant love
blinding us in the cold
world, wife, friends
all to save their own
skins, a cruel test
winter & cities. Jail
blowing towards us like
a wind. Or the hospital
with heat. No voices
or anything like that,
just fear and anesthetic,
turning away from the child,
infant, daughter muse
Julessa, the name dreamed
and called
forth from the void, the
father a double—on earth
and in heaven, flesh
and imagination
the cold begins to crack
in on me, stupidity
like ice growing on me.
All of this failure & neglect
losing me in a storm
no love can stop
1967
Watching Peacocks in the Garden from the Music Room
The peacock is the light!
The light in the eye of
the real peacock dreaming
on a green field when
the mind snaps—
The auras of queer light
mushrooming green & violet & black,
opening in the air
like a fan around us.
Eyes and jewels, the music
room blossoming
in a shock of yellow light
Everywhere there is light!
A race of beautiful Beings
is born among us!
The peacock is the light!
1965-66 (LSD)
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