Trees stand, three dimensional testimony— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
to life’s pressing itself into the inanimate
like dye poured into water
their fingers reach to celebrate the difference
These days I can meditate their waving
as the lifeless wind moves them
feel their forms as if I
were both tree and wind
Fractal explosions cast
on the canvas of years.
gallagher
18 aug 83 – sjc
Archive for the ‘1983’ Category
1983-08-18
Thursday, August 18th, 19831983-09-13
Tuesday, September 13th, 1983Patterns 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
1983-09-13
Tuesday, September 13th, 1983Wordless 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