Same concept in different context— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
same concept as a subset of itself
sometimes I glimpse strange ropes
amid the tangle
arch forms thru the many
extensibles, a calculus
to the structure’s algebra
I wonder what thought forms await us
computer man
02-22-83
Irvine at Pick
586— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
So we choose what we want to decorate our lives
and then find ourselves in empty rooms
with mocking mirrors and the riddle
of how everything can be just as we wanted it
and yet so utterly empty and unfulfilling
I walk these rooms and wait the clock
twist against frustration and strive to see the truth
but I carry weapons against the deadness;
love and memories, pictures and words
faces and touches, family names
they can’t break me on their pressures
though sometimes they send me out
to stumble blank-eyed
from the wicked press of incomprehension
as long as there are children’s smiles
and a woman’s love
I can survive
04-04-83
Irvine at Pick
We erode against our experiences.— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
In the end we have nothing but our name
and our memories
All the things we were going to do
All those things we believed in
All that we thought we had become
Is washed from us by our own historical dialectic.
We give birth to ourselves, but do not survive.
I try in the mornings to focus my intent
but in the evenings seldom have more
than just the memories of where I’ve been
These paper scraps, the only trail I leave.
Gallagher
11 April 83, Irvine
Yes, I’m coming to believe some people are smarter than I.
Oh, I knew it before but not in the same way.
I saw them above me, running corporations
but I never really got to know them.
Occasionally I’d shake their hand or speak with them
and I’d feel like an object being patronized;
suppressing my resentment or my urge to please;
they left me doubtful.
But they were easy to ignore, because they were so rare or so distant
and I could live the illusion of being the equal of anyone,
on this, my chosen ground, raw intelligence.
But hey, brothers, they’ve found me or I them now;
I speak now as often as I’m quiet.
and I judge as often as I’m judged.
Now I have only my poetry to make me different
which I never show….
05-22-83
Irvine, CA
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
The thought that you might be mad because
you can’t handle everything…is crazy.
I want my life to require courage.
There’s another concept that I wish there was a word for:
It’s the act of honing into the essence of something.
It’s non-dichotomous solutions to the problems of being.
It’s the strategies and methods to accomplish something that all fall short
in that they achiever and the achieved remain one step apart
separated by the method.
In the end, as you hone in,
the wish and the action and the result should merge
and the planner must depart, and the waiting evaporate
and the ‘you’ becomes a unity of wish/action
as the ever-present moment forms.
Greater awareness through meditation
won’t increase one’s abilities at social games
but that doesn’t keep us from looking for that transference
and being surprised that it’s missing.
Why should an increased ability to contemplation
yield more skill at being shallow?
gallagher
22 jun 83 - collage of thoughts
on the freeway
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
The space we share together— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
lies just behind her front door
there we yield to what we’ve been becoming
and follow our impassioned spore
we enfold each other with openness
and from this vision, brown eyes appear
with the warmth in our stomachs caressing us
we form moments, both rare and clear
and our words and hands give voice to love.
gallagher
22 june 83 - about Kathleen A.
Irvine, CA
But how long can you love me, sweet sister, mine— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
alone against aging, insecurities and wine
and what can I capture of my heart as you spoke
drawn to love you against the fear that you’re broke.
gallagher
22 june 83 - about Kathleen A.
Poetry flows when I feel my life coming to grips with itself— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
the visions coming faster, questions tumble, candy from a jar
are we here as something more than a stepping stone
along the journey of life’s longing for itself?
The wind blows, the leaves fall, the mottled sunlight carresses me
but my mind considers here…
am I God or man, mortal or immortal
does it matter, these things I think?
what does the ant think in the sink
when the plug is pulled?
gallagher
23 jun 83 - Irvine, CA
Vector to the heart of things— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
its the forms that confuse
when you look outward
and the tideswell of emotions
when you look inward
Where is the heart…
it lies not where men bargain with their lives
it lies not in what the mirror can show of our days
nor in the clever questions we can pose
nor in our opinions of right and wrong
heart lies in living each moment, now
Love is the finest honing
whether its the love of the warm wind on your skin
or the crash of the sea on the rocks
or you cherishing the eyes and touches of another
Magic lies somewhere in each moment
but never at the same place twice…
gallagher
23 jun 83 - Irvine, CA
I met a man today at breakfast— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
who lives Roy Walford’s dream.
He’s followed the minimal diet
for 15 years and, at 40 looks 30.
He’s a living testament to what was
before just a theoretical exercise.
Surrounded by people unconsciously hurrying
to press themselves back
into the folds of the earth
he wears his mortality so much lighter.
gallagher
23 jun 83 - Irvine, CA
Mike Carrol ph 714-295-5183
ph 714-754-0735
Kathy, … my watch came today …— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
and my socks and shirt.
Outside on the grass I opened the package
to get my watch
but what I found there
were my memories and feelings;
your face…eyes…essence…
as warm as the sun on my skin
That you’re leaving my life, again,
and going out to try once more
to make sense of yours thru security
and commitment…
I can’t debate it … nor would I try,
my friend.
But I can, … I can see your eyes, here.
And remember the hours we’ve spent together
and I can mourn the loss of what you gave me
my sweet sister, lover and friend
God’s speed.
gallagher
02 jul 83 - about Kathy A.
Irvine, CA
Order— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
I constantly want to put my life into ‘order’.
Regular sleeping, eating, rising, exercising, meditating.
All these to improve my skill at being here now,
all these to focus awareness into my life.
But these are only half-way measures
these are posing to become the pose,
attempts to shortcut to the pervading awareness
but limiting of that which I’d be aware.
But it’s in these rooms and moments, chaotic,
where the white noise of change never sleeps,
that I will find myself ‘aware’
unoposed … untried … unstopped….
gallagher
27 jul 83 - Irvine, CA
Awake— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
Awareness; so easy to conceive, so hard to maintain
and each time I let it slip I know
sooner or later that I’ve lost it
when I awake, adrift, again.
No formula will do it, only doing it will.
As the knife hones to the sharpening stone,
so I must go into it … ever into it
leaving all thoughts of ‘it’ behind.
Food, sleep, exercise, work, loving and seeing
are but a few names of the places I’ve slept.
Bhagwan, Jesus, Buddha, Lao Tzu, and Mohammad
are but a few names of those
who have called us to awake.
Here I write to make tangible the meditation
but this paper and ink are not it.
Here I am awake and want to stay so
a baby Buddha crawling towards the light.
gallagher
27 july 83 - Irvine, CA
Patterns seem to be forming— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
and I begin to fear War
I read ‘The Clowns of God’ by Morris
and now the real Pope announces
that he feels War more immanent
because of the rising cries for peace.
And some where in the last few days
I read that someone (the Pope?)
feels we’re leaving the ‘post-war period’
and entering a ‘pre-war period’.
In Beruit 28 men out of 90 survived
a hand to hand attack with hatchets
and, then, the Korean flight, 007,
was shot down this last week.
The faces of Danny and Chris swim before my eyes
against the back drop of nuclear conflict
and the inescapability of Los Angeles
in wartime.
The only thing that comes to mind
when I try to imagine War as not inevitable
is the sheer stupidity of it.
But, somehow, that seems small defense
in the world of ever lessening resources
and ever growing competition for them.
Children, families, neighborhoods, blood lines
toys, momentos, health, life, and life works
are all irrevocably torn asunder by War …
Where will I hide a little boy
who says, ‘Daddy, I love you, so much.’
and hugs me with such simple trust…?
gallagher
13 September 83 - Irvine, CA
Wordless against the world of ideas— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
echoes of passion, memories of causes
cannot stir, as feeling those things once did
and I feel I must appear slow
or non-verbal these days.
Lisa, so bright, burns her mid-twenties
on the pyre of ideas and understandings
and I found it hard to participate with her
because I was reminiscing while she was creating
So, I wonder, do I listen to a more subtle drummer
or am I just dying at the wheel
it’s strange that we pass from things
and become something, someone
no longer able to go back.
gallagher
13 september 83 - Irvine - talking to Lisa
“I’ve felt that too.” … an empty gesture— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
We celebrate that two or more could come here
as validation of the paths we’re on
At a pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey party
we congratulate those we bump into
Comparing notes on how to burn time in paradise.
gallagher
13 september 83 - Irvine
This moment … this moment— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
maybe, when we find ourselves at some moment
jangled, disoriented and squirming
reaching for some composure to embrace
maybe its the result of letting go
in some previous moment, hours or days ago
when in some state of bliss we fell unconscious
to awake here, adrift, trying to connect again.
gallagher
26 september 83
irvine,ca
Flight or Fight— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
We’re used to the idea of biochemical cycles; homeostatic mechanisms.
For example, the manic-depressive swing
or the insulin-sugar dance.
But I, sometimes, think I feel another cycle;
one that I wonder if it could’ve been
the cause of my mother’s alcoholism
or what Mary Berringer’s doctor calls depression.
What I feel is not depression, as I think of it;
that helpless, who gives a shit, who wants to move feeling
of being utterly down and defeated.
It’s more of a state of hovering, rising anxiety
that comes on so slowly
that you never knew it began.
I suspect the flight-or-fight response is the cause;
the balance between the sympathetic and parasympathetic
sides of the central nervous system.
I feel my muscles, like my anxiety, as a tight presence
that lingers outside of my consciousness.
A subliminal background against which my
foreground thoughts play.
And, playing all unawares, they assume responsibilities
for my state of general discomfort.
As if cause must be found in the thought
contents of the mind.
But, upon reflection; separating the background from the foreground
I find the only new factor, here,
is this insidious pervading sense of tense anxiety
that’s risen in me, unbidden.
gallagher
27 september 83
Orangetree
More thoughts on anxiety— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
At times I’ve zeroed in on this or that as the possible cause
my unbidden anxieties
Lack of sleep,
lack of exercise,
excess of calories
fantasizing,
internal dialogues,
lack of religious faith,
personal inadequacies,
lack of women,
lack of people,
lack of privacy,
and lack of personal freedoms.
And, at some point or another, each has been vanquished for a time,
with the possible exception of religious faith,
and, during that time, proven to not be the answer.
No, I suspect they each were a compounding factor
which happened to be present at the time
and which was labeled, guilty, by association
rather that by causality.
gallagher
27 september 83
orangetree
My moods come swinging harder— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
more brutal between the good places
eye fogged anxious days
women who turn me like a card in solitaire
Hours that wait like wounds
and demand confrontation, wine or madness
I still hear Bhagwan and the Sufi’s
still remember Monika and Nirala
I can still see Danny and Chris’ and Rose’s eyes
but here, where my moments are mine
I come down to some line
some deeper pressing reality
Women and wine used to save me from confrontation
but wine can kill me, as it did my mother
and women; women find me less these days
through the filters of age, affluence, and truth
so we come down to it: mood slugging and slogging
aerobics and smiles, sweat and hedonism
balanced against karmic mirrors
like Adelle, the psychedelic pharmacist
and Kathi M., the Jewish-American business woman/wife
and Maria, the waitress
and Lorrie, the aerobics instructor
I can offer no one anything and I go upset
from each meeting where they tell me so.
gallagher
03 oct 83 - Orangetree