SamadhiMuse » 1976

1976-07-08

Dennis — Thu, 08 Jul 1976 08:00:00 +0000


      You can recognize your lovers
         by the fear that's in their eyes
      you can recognize the one's who'll leave you
         when you begin to hear their lies
      you can recognize you friends now
         they're the ones you never notice at all
      you can recognize anything you want
         you just look in the mirror and call.

                           gallagher
                           CSULB
                           07-08-76

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1976-07-09

Dennis — Fri, 09 Jul 1976 08:00:00 +0000


           Its an illusion, drink up your fill
            look in the mirror, its all what you will
            you're just dreaming you've got time to kill
            you've only one time
               and it won't sit still.

                              Long Beach
                              07-09-76

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1976-08-10 Bruce Malsom

Dennis — Tue, 10 Aug 1976 08:00:00 +0000

                        Bruce Malsom

      I'm less somehow, for his leaving, my spirit brother ...
      same eyes as my eyes   same spirit as my spirit
      He's gone into the world again, at this conjunction's end, drifting
      amid the tides of change, each of ours alone.

      Same eyes as my eyes   same spirit as my spirit
      some part of me gone, my brother, some part ...
      clear seeing, true spirit and grace until we meet again,
      thru illusion and change, immutable essences of that
      which makes us brothers, one.

                              gallagher
                              10 Aug 76 - about my friend
                              buena park, CA

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1976-08-16

Dennis — Mon, 16 Aug 1976 08:00:00 +0000

            Late 20's general panic comin' down
            the easy living givin' way to the constant frown
            worrying' about jobs and what we're going' be
            the steady erosion of that centered concept, me.

            Maya ever beckons, beckons the pilgrims on
            to embrace their lifeless caricatures
            from which their souls have long been gone.

            I resist your involvement
            the blood sucking drain
            the ultimate material involvement
            in the giant corporate game.

                                    gallagher
                                    16 aug 76 - buena park

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1976-08-20

Dennis — Fri, 20 Aug 1976 08:00:00 +0000

         There's no time, there is no reason
         I'm lost in the turn of the year.

         I want to cry out for some season
         where the wind blows slower apace.

         I cannot find what I'm here for
         and it seems the quest is lost
         amid the hurrying moments and fragments
         and, ah, how I fear this loss...

         Another life lost here on this rock
         speck in God's eye
         another lesson to be learned once again then
         and still the wind refused to die.

         The hours and minutes fill up
         and the material world's catching hold
         every time I look in the mirror
         I see I'm growing old.

         How, how did you catch me
         sly devil that you are
         in this place where the wind never slackens
         and only I can hear the mirror sigh.

         I'm not here to fill in the pattern
         or lay another stone on the way
         I want to live as if it mattered
         and when I die I want to go away.

                           gallagher
                           20 aug 76 - buena park

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1976-08-20

Dennis — Fri, 20 Aug 1976 08:02:00 +0000

         My friends and all our questions
         our eyes and all we say
         we're all empty and full of the question
         we're all alone with nothing to say.

         Bruce and Mike and Cher
         have come here as my friends
         and now that they've left again
         I've just some bits and ends.

         So empty of answers
         that questions no longer hold much lure
         I mourn my having to work now
         because I know that money's no cure.

         The lesson's get harder at childhood's end
         I hope that we're able, myself and friends
         to survive in a world without the words or time
         to grow older and wiser without feeling like crying.

                                 gallagher
                                 20 aug 76 - buena park

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1976-08-20

Dennis — Fri, 20 Aug 1976 08:03:00 +0000

         Empty   Empty   Empty
         not growing.
         Remembering, not knowing.
         Sad, about what?
         nothing...
         Mad about everything
         no alternative?
         look how the year walks by me
         no focus, who am I?...
         just the space around which
         the identification, Dennis Gallagher, exists
         in whatever form I last left it
         who am I, the one pressing in or out or both?
         what's direction...
            complexity's increase,
            knowledge's gain,
            material's owner?
         empty of even questions
            I exist and see only
            the falling leaves of years
            in the lines of my face
         what do I want
            what can I have?
         what will I do
            what can be done?
         do I have a choice
            am I not one?

                                    gallagher
                                    20 aug 76 - buena park

1976-08-23

Dennis — Mon, 23 Aug 1976 08:00:00 +0000


We're all dying here of boredom and life's mundaneness.
my friends call occasionally to see how it goes with me.
Their tiny voices, across the miles, empty and brave
ask, 'how do you like your job...'
and they'd like to hear that I have the answer...
but they hang up as sad as they called,
when they hear its the same with me.

All the alternatives vanish into the vacuum left
where your dreams used to be.

When security and the real world claim you,
you begin to see yourself as you once saw others;
mice on the treadmills of industries, living dead.

Your muscles grow soft and your eyes lose their snap
and your feeling of self uniqueness becomes self disdain.

All the alternatives vanish into the vacuum left
where your dreams used to be.

                              gallagher
                              23 Aug 76

1976-08-28

Dennis — Sat, 28 Aug 1976 08:00:00 +0000


      I can't seem to escape this falling feel
      in the quite moments when my awareness gets real
      it seems I'm falling thru the days like a leaf
      and I can't seem to land to get some relief.

      Ah, why would I want to come to this place in my life
      so sad and confused and distressed by the knife.
      It never seemed to me that it'd be like this,
      the knife that divides our fun from our pain,
      and its come down on the wrong side again.

      I wonder, in flashes, as the days whirl by
      if I can get it back, the way that I got high,
      by looking in loving detail at all that went by.

                              gallagher
                              28 Aug 76

1976-09-07

Dennis — Tue, 07 Sep 1976 08:00:00 +0000


         What strange weeds the winter leaves us here
         in the stark sunlight after our lusty cheer.
         And with what wondrous clarity the mirrors shine
         and show the one that was, against the one that's left behind.

         I can't see, but the clarity aches my eyes,
         through these transient passages wove with immoral cries.
         And we weave and wind our parts and thine
         just gamblers come to meet
         in a place where nothing lasts.

                                 gallagher
                                 7 September 76