Poetry Circus: Hail-storm 2005

Clouds swirled, danced
against red rocks
building into
a storm, set sail below.

I was out of breath
keeping pace with a lone doe
she would not stop.
I panted? Clouds swept

the sweat off my brow,
dripped into eddies,
sweat, dripped,
into eddies.

I laid down eyeing white
smelling the damp fetid air -
fluvial currants threatened
Boulder city below.

Clouds gained power
power gathered
into a Pow-Wow
Boulder Threatened
    echoing tom-tom strikes,

wind swirled force-
fully ready to punish sins unrepentant
tom-tom
beating into my Odyssey.

Poetry Museum: Philip Whalen

Philip Whalen described poetry as the "graph of the mind's movement."   He writes in a Zen Buddhist contemplative, empathetic view on the world.   The poem the Slop Barrel Slices of the Paideuma for all Sentinet Beings.is a zen poem that captures the moment in between time where change is inevitable.
 Paideuma means "a people's whole congeries of patterned energies from the ideas down to the things they know in their bones."*  He attempts to objectively see the world as it really is.  His poems allow us a glimpse of a frozen moment in a period of flux.

Hugh Kenner, The Pound Era, Berkley, Calif., 1971, p. 507.
My own attempt to write a Haiku to Philip Whalen:

9AM Pacific University

Lumber Truck Braking,

One Morning at Pacific.

I'm Sleep walking.