Archive for April, 1980

1980-04-01 Aprils fool

Tuesday, April 1st, 1980

April’s fool

Hard running … flat out working
on a Maya high
lost in the computer’s labyrinth logic

Making it work … for some ego trip?
for the joy of creation
for the passage of unconscious time … ?

Virginia, Washington D.C., Portland, Maine, and Quebec
Rose and Christopher
Work’s cresendo … time’s almost inaudible

1 Apr 80

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1980-04-09 MEDITATIONS

Wednesday, April 9th, 1980


I resolve that the most important thing confronting me
is the task of becoming what I want to become.
I recognize that, when at brief moments, I become conscious,
I know what I want.
And that what I want is to retain this awareness
and there is no way to do this
short of wanting it more than anything else.
I want to become what I want when I am conscious.

I want to be the master of my physical body’s(mind’s) condition
within those limits that my age and genetic inheritance impose.
And if faith or will power
can gain me more than that
then I want that too.
My body (mind) is mine if I will claim it.

I want the manifestation of my consciousness
to become my conscious foreground
and the details of my life; its work, its involvements,
to become the background.
but its details must be executed to perfection
because my consciousness of their execution is a reflection
of my deeper commitment to conscious awareness
in all that I do.

It is not that I lack the ability to conceive what I want
in my moments of clarity.
It is more that I cannot maintain the awareness
of what I want.
I slip back into unconsciousness; physical gratifications,
into my unconscious animal reactions
to each moment’s passing stimuli.
Its not that I should deny my physical nature
but that I should experience it without lapse
of awareness of my deeper want…
to remain conscious.


Portland, Maine

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1980-04-12 ST. GEORGES, QUEBEC

Saturday, April 12th, 1980


2 hours ride and northern Yankee New England
gives way to this river town of St. Georges

The river’s winds wind with the streets
and the town’s gothic church rises above
the arched bridge and the river’s promenade

Nothing here would deny I am in France…

occasionally a woman will look at me
with a look that I have come to recognize
as a look that only French women can master
both wide eyed and sensuously unabashed

They seem to value the clarity of their passions as
some of us value the clarity of our perceptions.
Their eyes and laughter shine like a child’s
through their European sophistications
and their passion lies just beneath their poise
wellsprings of feeling that tell me
everything else here is just a game….


St. Georges, Quebec

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —