Poems of a Young Man: “Soulmates of Spirit (Into 1980)” (© KPKeelan)

.

At these new and long-awaited crossroads,

I stand in the mid-morning sunshine

somewhere between the light in which I once stood

and the light in which I soon will stand

and seeking once again.

Looking everywhere in my life

for my kindred compatriots

arriving at me in bursts of new blood

and in people lost but rediscovered

reaffirmed, stronger still-

and still more vulnerable.

Returned at last to my favorite me

I feel capable of anything!

(A feeling that seems fated to be tested soon

in the crucible of the looming era.)

Time has reintroduced me to my dormant spirit

and it’s good to be at home inside me again.

(Such an ephemeral “home”,

barriers as thin as the membrane of a soap bubble!)

Things never stop changing forever.

I modify my cycles

to include new words and new definitions-

new ideas and new playmates.

Something in me screams:

GIVE!

Don’t hold back!

Don’t look back!

Release resistance.

Achieve dangerous and beautiful summit,

set up camp

and hang out your shingle:

OPEN FOR BUSINESS.

I dig in with the cracked fingernails on these hands

into the rich black soil of this pregnant world,

and melt into it

to find my own private doorway

returning me giddily to the Ether of Spirit!

Come here!

Let me touch you!

Let me sip from your goblet ‘til my senses whirl!

(There is still so much more!)

Embarking on a one-way walk

through the buzzing biosphere

I cannot resist diving in for a swim

through the sea of mankind’s womb.

Yet-

these explorations barely brush my bare skin,

leaving dew droplets of quenching wisdom

around my thirsting lips.

Mud squishing through my naked toes

– grounded –

I send my collected energy

straight down

to the Big Hot Heart of this Old Fat Earth.

Embarrassing Mother Life,

I bask in the nourishment of

Old Fat Father Sun.

Such a balanced family-

galactic soulmates, all!

Secretly sampling the Liquor of the Gods,

we share time

carved in flame and ice,

singing all unsung songs of Joy

tinted with secret sorrow.

Tears streaking our cheeks,

we huddle together in this Survival Mode,

facing economic tyrants,

and nuclear profiteers.

corporate criminals and greedy power.

Hand-in-hand,

implanted we stand-

Soulmates of the Species

creating a civilization

on this tiny island of fractured rock and belching fire

hurtling through

the infinite community of Matter and Life-

our chins uplifted,

our eyes focused into the mysterious heavens

scanning the event horizon

of beckoning Space!

Leaping, jumping, racing

sprinting full stride

into the 1980’s.

.

(11- 3- 79)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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About KPKeelan

Fool, Philosopher, Lover & Dreamer, Benign TROUBLEMAKER, King and Jester of KPKworld, an online portal to visual and linguistic mystery, befuddlement and delight.
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