Expositionist

[Guest guest]

This is the skin of the expositionist:

 

Sinned-down dialogue's skin of the teeth

sunk deep in active, heavy petting, performance art,

evolved highly, cyber-sized for every eye's seeing

of getting it

and getting it.

 

Time-durational dazzlement of dharma-crowns,

and chakra-crowns, and, hmmm, maybe even

bhakti-clowns,

like Quasi-got-it-moizie-modo me.

Or Frodo, the Frodo of fat-footed 'vaitic

fatcat chatterment, scatterment and seeding

of my version of learnin'

into your version.

 

DuuuuurrrrATIONAL expositionry, time-worn wizardry

of the husbandry of head-critters.

 

If it's faux-furred fana, or funned

to the bone of fathomless wisdomcantations,

like the non-otomy-otomy-be-aware-beast,

or the feasting face of grace in "everything now

is gravy..." going expositional is exceptionally

positionable.

 

I breed me and all the hybridizations thereof,

of that. I clone God when others give a nod

to what I think and say.

 

A thousand head of sacred cattle

are slaughtered every minute,

and a thousand more are sleeping

quietly in the graveyard of memory.

 

If memory serves me, and it does,

serve me that is, this is the time

that wine and long loving glances

"are passed around without cups."

 

I posit this poem, paused against the breath in heartbeat

ceasing energy...a movement within clear, still skies --

 

Li Po in Chinese lingo transliterated from moonlight:

 

Drinking Alone By Moonlight

 

"A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;

I drink alone, for no friend is near.

Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,

For he, with my shadow, will make three men.

The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;

Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.

Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave

I must make merry before the Spring is spent.

To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;

In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.

May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,

And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky."

 

Expositionists exhibit odd behavior

in that they allow

for everything from everyone

to be everything from everyone,

like we all being

Being, being

La'ilaha...La Li Po'Allahu.

 

Hansa shone in Shanti

when the Sun shined on Han Shan;

when Han Shan held a willow stick

and brushed it through the water.

 

Expositionists walk on waterwheels:

 

Water spills were pulled from Red Pine and Snyder,

from Mitchell and the gods that be.

 

Sundry snips from mountain sips of water,

served cold from the Missing 300 footprints,

transliterally decrypted by b:

 

"I choose to bray at the cock-eyed moon,

To dance through mountain clouds at dawn.

Why bury my hands in my sleeves,

Padlock my tongue,

And sit rigid as a chair?

 

My hair cascades!"

 

"I stand on the peak, lit by

Bright sunshine, gazing out at

The clear blue sky.

Crane and friendly clouds fly by,

Call me to pick the flowers down by

The oh so lovely riverbanks!

We play till dusk,

Watch wind rising,

Waves circling,

Water birds

Lifted on wings of flight.

Afloat in this boat

My mind expands -

No place to hide!

Now the old year is gone,

The spring has come.

Flowers smile at the stream,

Cliffs dance in clouds and fog!

Butterflies seem so glad;

Fish and birds sport like mad!

Our friendship is endless,

I am so happy

I can no longer sleep!

How noble is this nature --

Creation with no creature!"

 

Expositionists expound on their expounding

that all founding finding funders be freely hand

and head fed

from just OneHeart.

Joseph's Coat Cake, if You Will.

Ahhh, the thrill of the expositionist!

The positions of This!

 

 

LoveAlways,

 

Mazie