The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
GALAXIES©
AMISTAD
years ago my work was done in a place held by primitive capitalists
means are so much better now
better bombs, Google eyes, statistical target identification, better tracking of people, nuanced suffocation
anyone living outside of a survival bunker may have noticed
an undeniable counter climate
strange weather
perhaps conflating it with the counter culture
of about forty years ago which was when
I squiggled out from under my high tech job
imagine:
about half a year after leaving the capitalists
driving my truck along an access road to the Palo Alto dump
and there jogging along was my former co-worker
"Hey Paul!" and he smiled
we talked briefly about something
then I waved goodbye
"I'm never going back . . ."
Technical Writer
Warrant Officer in the corporate hierarchy of 1973
stepping off the ladder to be come
the gardener
still writing in 2013
we have been bred to believe there is no choice
probably you are reading this on the 'net
not at work because you are being watched
have you reached your quota?
don't think about this
I can tell you it's not easy
not for everyone
better be willing to die if it comes to that
both physically and emotionally
but then perhaps you sense a crack in the tectonic plate
and where you are seems not quite right
sort of like the weather
I can also show and tell
to all slaves everywhere
the ones who have built civilization and are still confined by it:
get free
it is possible!
PATIENCE
first the vision
then the elements are assembled
a hand clipper
next, of course, a mower and edger
after some hesitation (considering the drying effect)
a blower
all to go in a truck with a sign on the door:
the gardener
then consider:
first came Buddha, Jesus, Mohammed
then came
the temple with priests, church with preachers, mosque with imams
next
I am not the sign on my truck or the equipment it carries
and without these, would the vision perish?
what is most valuable?
a loaded question, no doubt
the upshot:
institutions do not have my allegiance
surely this is a personal voice
it has an I
but I am you
I escape metrics cobbled in sacred spaces
overflowing into these words from the bowels of mowing
trimming, gnashing machines
let us speak plainly of our lives which return to dust
let's get on with it
value is assigned
whether to suffer the slings and arrows . . .
did our institutions generate the venerated ones?
did they generate themselves?
they seem to have known who they are
take away the halo and find
who I am and who you are
so about 30 kilobytes was more than enough
to get to the bottom of this
and I have some trimming to do
OFF BEAT
while gauging the seismology of patent technology
oh please, bring back the ivy towers
I am prompted with a divergent rhythm
tribbles nafore, a prelate
drab
boom all the
never waffle more, here it comes
hang onto your hat in the cave of the winds, bats
there it goes almost
made sense
travel lightly and do not leave a horse print
in sand dollar dunes
tan skin
trouble and
that caterpillar on
a mushroom
puff
has the curtain fallen yet?
sing, sing, sing – go
present technology
Alzheimer watch that glows in the dark
radioactive
freedom is a messy word, limburger
fraught with wars, microbes
green algae promising
the future of mars in
exploration
bring me sautéed snails not
for breakfast
but
TV time, dangles all the bojangles of creeks in summer time
and steaming
gyoza
a mushroom, say it 'shroom, get the lift way up to Blue Angels performing war feats for General Electric and the corporate good ole' psychopaths
who inhabit the same earth
pansies
tribble down, hey!
let's plant tomatoes they
don't ask questions
babble on Babylon
caves of Cappidocia spill
onto the brass ring, Santa Cruz playtime with laughing
clown, doesn't it?
unravels a new bay bridge
sight seers where
we began
ivy towers
hey!
SUMMER OF '76
bare bones and the hard rock truth
nostalgia on the wane
a persistence of slavery
the Spice Islands are important to cooking
though India and China are distant, commerce rules
the Pyramids are mysterious, visited with caravans
seeking frequent flier miles
great temples of ancient repute
documented on PBS
are taken on faith
Aztec sacrifices
so, pilgrims
please have a nice day
some of us do appreciate this earth
the droves now destroying it
will also come to last days
you few
let us think
not of the central bank, nor wideners of the Panama Canal
nor Chinese redevelopment of ancient buildings
not the money changers or derivative spinners
nor politicians and campaign trails
or even the clock on your favorite device
there is a reality that seems to survive
while the moon is full, neighborhood dogs argue
even the pair of birds in the oleander next door
and the compost bird is not here
suddenly the sky darkens with a prospect of rain
on Channel 5, Roberta says we have a fire alert to last 3 days
dry lightning looms
in the midst of her forecast it begins to happen in the eastern hills
to accept blame is egotistical
can anyone claim credit for tides
mental influences of the moon
asteroids, volcanoes or earthquakes
but when it all comes down to financial meltdowns, war, slavery
or even climate change
an argument can be made
well, the moon is full and I'm still here
and know I'm sane and that, yes
it happens
and that all this stuff might matter - - -
suddenly as I write the weather interrupts
the Arabian night thunders - - -
heavy rain
smell of dormant dust quickly distributed
the cantaloupe on our porch is singing
seeds stay quiet for a long time
they do not mind
in the desert flowers bloom
the fish in our family room snap
as I take my hat from the pencil sharpener next to their tank
they are not piranhas
which brings us back to the beginning
which by now
being independent and almost 76
is sort of forgotten
and the rain has stopped
AFTER ELECTROMAGNETISM
robes of aristocracy have been traded for a suit
an emblem pinned to the lapel
yet still an orchid is priceless
green stains on jeans
Roman roads carried Paul's message
the 'net carries this:
no precedent
a message goes from here to there
but it's all one place
words are not the message
cell phone towers on darkened ridges
are the mind talking to itself
orchids, green stains, and blue donkey beads
machines plan our future
dispassionately, they know my face
name, books read, socks bought, property owned
phone calls, blood pressure, prescriptions
and of course
this is being read and correlated with your data
since you read this
but control of events is a fleeting illusion
the juice of life passes through Siren Servers
like ether in the Michelson-Morley experiment
after having asked the wrong question
knowing wild birds and speaking with squirrels
are associations that elude digitization
seize the words, miss the meaning
invisible in plain sight
UNWRITTEN HISTORY
infiltrates my fingernails
growing slowly as civilizations do
stars and winkling fireflies
Ramses glancing back towards China
a barricade of accountants tumbling into hell
my buggy whip needs watering
there are forests in our backyard
crouched beneath blades of grass
and many people buried who might have favored coffee over tea
that have a certain place in gravel
where lilacs grew
looped over wells seeking pure water
found anywhere
fingernails grow
HOLIDAY
emperors, wizards, empires and clearance prices
at Orchard Supply
war ships off the coast of Syria
China's Forbidden City, despite favorable omens
astrological signs, and rooftop talismans
shortly after opening for diplomatic relations
was struck by lightning that burnt temples to the ground
the Yosemite rim fire has reached Hetch Hetchy reservoir
low pressure sending up moisture from the south
threatens rain and lightning to delay opening the new bay bridge
the juniper after root pruning and repotting
survives with frequent mistings
the camphor round is now a coffee table
summer vacation
why go there?
crowded and expensive
here there is free parking
no waiting in line
no security checks
somewhere out there is adventure, mystery, discovery
I am told, over and over
to no avail
just whatever comes up is all of that
a grain of sand without explanation
is the residue of stars
parent of fingernails
LEGACY
archaeological treasures
that once slept comfortably at the foot of my bed
look up with grief
cherished companions
still part of the journey and yet . . .
there are promises to be kept
it is hard to grow up
as childhood ends some friends are slower
our life is not what it seemed
our civilization
with misguided rulers, thugs, laws and psychopaths
is built upon the illusion of separateness
scientifically shown
to be obsolete
our technology reflects its creators
produced by and perpetuating the illusion
enforced with batons, digital surveillance and nuclear weapons
reality redefined
so that results no longer map back to causes
which nevertheless rule
for every action
there is an equal and opposite reaction
childhood's end
at the foot of my bed
LIFE ON THIS PLANET
fever and chills
that is our weather
something for everyone
for those who like it hot or not
and in between:
see – it's normal!
engineered reality
we are cabled to it
our potted juniper
recently root pruned
doesn't watch TV
intensive care since surgery, with many mistings
the next heat wave
starting tomorrow
will make life much more difficult
people are rooting for it
(ha, ha, you TV people)
the march of time
eyes and ears of the world
interpreters appointed by whom?
I can see the sky and know a lie
when I see it
can't you?
so
to be imprecise
not too many engineers, if you please
the juniper doesn't need you
RELATIVELY REAL
flowers petal towards this moonlit porch
rhythm of eons
a company of elders files past playing flutes
rooftop gables droop beneath sleeping chimneys
forget-me-nots
blue with yellow rimmed spectacles
playing with a white winged moth
pine sea needles
glistening rocks
this cannot be El Camino on a late Friday afternoon
double tandem transit busses
but why not?
a collision of dreams unimagined in the daily commute
no way to scrub the mind
of butterflies, angels and roses
just compare a barren hill top
with the grizzled truth
through that gap in the mountain ridge
there for an instant
so quiet and ordinary as to have been almost unnoticed
now rumbling past with banal advertisements
WAITING
at a sideshow with stoned scratchers
and wild morning glories, heavenly blue
comes the dust of robber barons, red sunsets
and friends just yesterday on that hill
a war scene never ending
trees of Brooklyn where I have never been
trolley cars of San Francisco
recording studios of LA
far flung battlements
sideshows
tomorrow's time table has no place in creeks and streams
nor lupine meadows
nor hermits who share the space with corporations
it's almost biblical
perhaps depressing
breakfast eggs, either scrambled or hard boiled
and anyone looking for a result should wait
the question will be redefined
this wonderful world dawns upon few
poor, rich, psychopathic and enlightened
always with us
crows know friendly humans
watching from skyscrapers with firefly windows
and have a temporary nest
somewhere
HOPE FOR HUMANITY
Christmas for our cats
is when we play Caruso
and we are all quiet
and the living room disappears
far beyond the realm of these words
INCENSE
words are a rainstorm
why listen
it will pass
there is nothing to do
nothing to get
forget this
and just sit
write "subscribe" or "unsubscribe" in the subject line of an email to: theroot_us@yahoo.com
The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_