find the unicorn

HUNGRY RAVEN

Fear of another is fear of death.

Instinctual reaction

to deadly situation – a

primitive contagion, or jaguar teeth.

So history’s abacus shuttles

red & black, or blue

& green... just for you,

little black-&-yellow Moth of Battles.

These stately river-cottonwoods

flare mossy banners

now; Hobo’s many spanners

choke the bridge-works.  Shaker bloods

from Puget Sound redeem themselves

with help from epileptic

shaman-chants... pep-talk

of buried elderberry souls (elves’

yodels, echoing their green on green).

The Word circles like

a hungry raven – pike

or spearmint (Mermaid Queen).

St. Louie, with his trumpet, now

brings up the nondescript

rear-guard.  The script

calls for Ezekiel, or sunflower –

Iris in the limestone cliff

curls into Unknown

Soldier.  Soddy Brown

they called him (working stiff)

                 *

whose star skims from the evening murk

anonymous Firebird

or twinkling agate-shard

in snarl of spiral Melville shark-

tooth, spouting salty balderdash

crossing the Portland bar

– whose thunder-straits are

worse than Frisco Bay mish-mash.

O the gray shade-vault of chilly Chartres!

The golden limestone cave

framed with architrave

of ancient enmity – Synagogue-martyr!

The fractal fault-line of an old polemic

circulating ossified

eddies of Johnny’s gospel

spleen... (tragic & epidemic

unintended consequences).

O the smiling Word

chants resurrection... heard

in Ramah & Ravenna, Rimini (Ez

kowtowing to voracious Rule).

Crossroad strictly abstract

for everyone – the trick’s

to find the unicorn (a holy fool

who paces like St. Francis through

the prairie steppes).  Someone

calls you... homespun

Natasha, limping toward the sun (ey yo).

4.25.17

J. Fisher King

WHAT CHEER

April rain soaks the riverlands.

The cottonwoods are green

with a mossy sheen

(a milky spray).  Giuliana understands

her little boy’s harmonic joy,

winding up his yellow

gyroscope (so

imperturbable, this balance-toy).

Ravenna sifts backwater Time.

The hollow tock of wood-

pecker, carving a shed

for screech owl (minima sublime,

incognito).  Little gray on gray

tree-rings of Okeanos –

oscillating Knossos,

Minerva-maze.  Flute-bird (in clay).

A copper Jonah, lifted from the well.

Dusk-rose, Venusian.

Seal of the Son of Man

like Hamlet’s ring, in wax (fell

Icarus, from labyrinth

– the ship sailed on).

Trials of the paragon,

the paradigm.  Blue hyacinth

of Shaker spirit, trembling

Will   I am

Alpha Omega   home

in my petroglyph   assembling

              *

light stars   on the horizon

Thunderbird ghost-

dance   round pivot-post

of early souls   lifted from prison

At dawn in Providence, the light

gathers gold   atop

the dome   What cheer,

Netop   the independent soul   bright

spear   at petrel summit of

this Camelot   simplicity  

a brave’s priority

to choose the good   be led by Love

J. Fisher King   Ancient of Days

as it was   upon a time

at the beginning (lame

limb   violence bears away   always)

& the smile of quiet eyes & lips

the canoe in the shadowy

garage   Ferrara iron

burgeoning almond   Natasha limps

toward her vault   in Magdala

Gesthemane   April

umbrella   of good will

the given Earth   the rose mandala

a fingerprint spiral   of gratitude

Thanksgiving feast   soul

liberty   constancy   whole

serene   uplifted   Rhody-rood

4.19.17

alongside the canoe

SHIP’S EYE

John Slocum fell into a swoon

in the sea-tinged woods

by Puget Sound; his words

of hope shook many Shaker men

out of their sins.  Sparks fly far

from cedar blaze – the sea

booms in a ship’s eye

lashed by yardarm to the polestar.

It’s not the size of the cosmos

but the color of the scales,

gilded when dawn pales

rippling on ice-floes

across the horizon, back to Ocean –

over hide rooftops

sun-parched corn crops

in the jungle (Squaxin, Galilean).

When Davy the Song Prince pranced

alongside the canoe

Maggie saw what she knew

was hers, & grew embarrassed –

yet her almond eye looks to the sea

& the song endures.  A stone

fell from turtle-grey heaven –

the flare of a meteor, a mystery;

an infinite cloud-bank shaped like wing

a feather of ring-dove

signifying love

left brush-marks down by Slocum Spring.

9.26.16

each poem starts fresh

TROMPETTE MARINE

Soft breeze moves the cucumber leaves

climbing the fine mesh.

Each poem starts fresh

upon a labyrinth the wind conceives

the way Dante struggled like a goat

to rise above the black-

white chessboard (epileptic

knight, squirming from Hell’s dank moat

toward one firefly-mote of light).

O civil wars of cousin

wolves!  Striving in frozen

latitudes of predatory fright-

might, ice-blue treason – all

spite-pirates of the broken

sheep of state – forsaken-

&-forsaking sacrifice!  Ravel

me then, Ariadne, in your primordial

& woolen salience

of J... into the silence

of a pregnant Jubilee, where Piero’s wall

glows in the morning light (& swells

a womb within a cave).

Search the high nave

of the Milky Way – Francesca dwells

up there (with Jenny Littletree) – among

the Shaker Indians, Quakers –

meek paisans, peacemakers –

fused by trompette marine of song.

8.1.16

"Can you enter the great acorn of light?"

BLACK DIAMOND

This heart-shaped leaf from cottonwood

dark green & silver-gray

may float down other rivers – say

the Don, by Voronezh... or Eridanos,

through Ravenna (north of Hades)... &

each windblown plum sails

off a shakedy limb, whose spiral

roots corkscrew (like S.S. Normandie

propeller) down into a labyrinthine

seine of mounded knots...

a weedy sea-change (plot

of plots).  Black Diamond is crystalline –

common as salt; an octochoron,

regular, complex;

cubic prismatic Rex

or tesseractic honeycomb (acorn

beanie, maybe).  From her, La Paix

like some Hermione

dances to life again – see

there!  Her coracle – l’Éternité!

My raven-tesserae form nature morte.

Venn diagram for Orpheus

bent to his Beatrice-dust

in Adriatic backwater – ‘til brought

up short, like Slocum, John (Shaker

Indian of Puget Sound)

or like Black Elk, who found

her sun-spun gyroscope (stung-sweet Makar).

7.22.16

Shakespeare's acorn

MICRO-MOSAIC

This circle of 7 emerald palms

(with 8 red dots across

lifelines) was pressed

by hand – an infant hand, Phoebe’s –

under the guiding eye of Grace

(in Providence).  Now

I set my cup (micro-

mosaic from Byzantium) in place

atop these marble squares, that trace

brass compass & sundial

of Roger Williams.  Trial

by English fire (Coke’s carapace) 

was his – to bring the Narragansett

word for liberty

to London (& to me).

The sovereignty of good, in its

vernacular incarnation, is

one global, crystalline,

turtleshell acorn –

Shakespearean lap of happiness

(skullcap, human Golgotha-dome

worn meekly in Ferrara

& Venice – Ravenna,

Providence...) – What cheer?  Welcome,

warbles Canonicus, chief

Shaker under raven-

falls (Columbian) –

his handshake stronger than belief.

1.27.16