December 26th, downtown park
"Street people . . .
asleep wrapped in light blue blanket . . .
Eyeballing aretes and buttresses rising above them . . .
Slowly check out the air for the fall of excess,
Of too much, flecks of extra,
From the higher-up folks in the sky . . ."
Read this Gary Snyder poem this morning, then went downtown, and the contrast to the in so many ways, pseudo-love of the day before seemed striking.
Fog rolling in; 74 degrees (far above normal): Christmas Day in St Pete
Meanwhile: Merry Christmas to all!
Archibald MacLeish wrote that "a poem should not mean, but be" and I have read that art does not mean, but is. Both comments seem more and more correct to me and they call for the reader/viewer/audience to see and maybe, maybe only afterwards think about . . .
Brian Osborn nicely calls up images of Florida in his poem "Just before breakfast":
" Dawn exhales slowly . . .
tranquillity as dense as carpet moss.
Nature abounds in a saturation of colors . . .
Expressionism like van Gogh never imagined . . .
Only God's palette could tint the morning in coral tones
And send a flight of pelicans gliding inches above
The jade-smooth surface, the instinctive formation
Multiplied by their own prehistoric reflections,
All of humanity missed the silent, unfurled flight
As they glided under the bridge, disappeared.
How at that moment the morning sun winked,
And for a few seconds time slid backward 10 million years . . ."
"Fort Desoto at dusk"
Walt Whitman: "On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song . . .
I think a thought of the clef of the universes and the future.
A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets,
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time . . .
This vast similitude . . . shall forever . . . compactly hold and enclose them."