Jeremy Sneaks Up On The Pentax….
Wonderful day here in Portland. Rain, Sun, more Sun! The trials of the “sunbreak”… a term used in the NW for those moments when the sun peaks through… It rained for some 8 hours straight last night…
A Happy Birthday To My Sister Rebecca! (Call ya soon!)
On the Menu:
The Links
Pharmako Gnosis Tour Part II – The Party
Poetry: Gary Snyder Part II
I hope you enjoy…..
Gwyllm
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The Links:
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Pharmako Gnosis Tour Part II – The Party
Dale comes in from the reading, finding a rather full house to his bemusement….
Mix Master Morgan, Mary, and PK enjoying Dales’ offering for the gathering: Absinthe….. a lovely green, oh yes….!
Gayle telling stories about her times in Equador. She is heading back soon from what I gather….
Dale mixing up the medicine for all of the guest…
Jeremy and Laura relaxing half way through the gathering….
On past Midnight…… 80) Cymon, Ed, Mike H, and friends around the table in the Dining Room….
A lovely night……
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Poetry: Gary Snyder Part II
Long Hair
Hunting Season:
Once every year, the Deer catch human beings. They
do various things which irresistibly draw men near them;
each one selects a certain man. The Deer shoots the man,
who is then compelled to skin it and carry its meat home
and eat it. Then the deer is inside the man. He waits and
hides in there, but the man doesn’t know it. When
enough Deer have occupied enough men, they will strike all
at once. The men who don’t have Deer in them will
also be taken by surprise, and everything will change some.
This is called “takeover from inside”.
Deer Trails:
Deer trails run on the side hills
cross country access roads
dirt ruts to bone-white
board house ranches,
tumbled down.
Waist high through manzanita,
Through sticky, prickly, crackling
gold dry summer grass.
Deer trails lead to water,
Lead sideways all ways
Narrowing down to one best path –
And split –
And fade away to nowhere.
Deer trails slide under freeways
slip into cities
swing back and forth in crops and orchards
run up the sides of schools!
Deer spoor and crisscross dusty tracks
Are in the house: and coming out the walls:
And deer bound through my hair.
——
Manzanita
Before dawn the coyotes
weave medicine songs
dream nets — spirit baskets –
milky way music
they cook young girls with
to be woman;
or the whirling dance of
striped boys –
At moon-set the pines are gold-purple
Just before sunrise.
The dog hastens into the undergrowth
Comes back panting
Huge, on the small dry flowers.
A woodpecker
Drums and echoes
Across the still meadow
One man draws, and releases an arrow
Humming, flat,
Misses a gray stump, and splitting
A smooth red twisty manzanita bough.
Manzanita the tips in fruit,
Clusters of hard green berries
The longer you look
The bigger they seem,
`little apples’
—————-
For a Stone Girl at Sanchi
half asleep on the cold grass
night rain flicking the maples
under a black bowl upside-down
on a flat land
on a wobbling speck
smaller than stars,
space,
the size of a seed,
hollow as bird skulls.
light flies across it
–never is seen.
a big rock weatherd funny,
old tree trunks turnd stone,
split rocks and find clams.
all that time
loving;
two flesh persons changing,
clung to, doorframes
notions, spear-hafts
in a rubble of years.
touching,
this dream pops. it was real:
and it lasted forever.
————
this poem is for bear
“As for me I am a child of the god of the mountains.”
A bear down under the cliff.
She is eating huckleberries.
They are ripe now
Soon it will snow, and she
Or maybe he, will crawl into a hole
And sleep. You can see
Huckleberries in bearshit if you
Look, this time of year
If I sneak up on the bear
It will grunt and run
The others had all gone down
From the blackberry brambles, but one girl
Spilled her basket, and was picking up her
Berries in the dark.
A tall man stood in the shadow, took her arm,
Led her to his home. He was a bear.
In a house under the mountain
She gave birth to slick dark children
With sharp teeth, and lived in the hollow
Mountain many years.
snare a bear: call him out:
honey-eater
forest apple
light-foot
Old man in the fur coat, Bear! come out!
Die of your own choice!
Grandfather black-food!
this girl married a bear
Who rules in the mountains, Bear!
you have eaten many berries
you have caught many fish
you have frightened many people
Twelve species north of Mexico
Sucking their paws in the long winter
Tearing the high-strung caches down
Whining, crying, jacking off
(Odysseus was a bear)
Bear-cubs gnawing the soft tits
Teeth gritted, eyes screwed tight
but she let them.
Til her brothers found the place
Chased her husband up the gorge
Cornered him in the rocks.
Song of the snared bear:
“Give me my belt.
“I am near death.
“I came from the mountain caves
“At the headwaters,
“The small streams there
“Are all dried up.
– I think I’ll go hunt bears.
“hunt bears?
Why shit Snyder.
You couldn’t hit a bear in the ass
with a handful of rice!”
Pharmako Gnosis World Tour “2006″