Poem

Laughter, crying

The room is illuminated by the street lights

finding the notebook

after picking my way between

toys

art supplies

children’s books.

The full moon

and venus

are behind

soggy clouds

She sleeps next to me

she rises her head up

like a weird sleepy pondering

(like her mother)

who wore makeup

and went to a work party

so I get her tonight

our shared custody

While reading Louise Gluck

I imagine a Civil War battlefield 

full of corpses

past selves, 

past relationships

Who am I now, alone

meditating myself towards

enlightenment

Dismantling 

the poor but time rich,

I squander my wealth

so much

but not on this

Can poetry save 

this thing I call

me?

The meditation doesn't works like this:

now relax! or happiness now!

but what relaxation can I observe

following the breath

what does my happiness consist of?

There’s no steam rolling

military orders

or classroom time outs

It’s seeing with prejudice

the rill of rapture

trickling

direction my mind

You watch how feelings

launch an armada of thoughts

how thoughts flavor 

and perfume the mind

How insight is noticed

(not frog marched)

and invades the whole body

How frightened I am

by letting go 

of the accompaniment 

of my neurosis

how insight is like a 

space walk

Dogen made fun of space flowers

theories to tide one over

while not meditating

How much of the mind is 

wurvival mind

trying to save

the unsavable?

The subtle breath

really is exquisite

ready for purpose

the deepening absorption

on the breath

rapture breaks the dam

gushing

gushing

out of control

it settles a little

The limpid waters

you notice a spring

replenishing

without causing 

a ripple

My whole body

what is happening?

what is happening?

I can’t write

unconditioned words

I direct this absorption

to disentangling

cessation

relinquishment

I clap my fist and let it go.