by James P Casey on Saturday, July 10, 2010 at 9:10pm
Satrap momma storm,
Babbling woman wonder,
Damp green thinkings,
Sinking mist of song.
Steaming wash of magic,
Pearl white sky,
Why do you come in slices,
Strings of crystals
Playing on the leaves?
Snake slipping down surfaces,
Frog gleams rippling
Frozen motion passing
In a pyre of pine,
And heady passion.
A finger on the lips of stillness,
As the red sun floats upon horizons
Newly cast with long tomorrows,
Stretching trees that sag in joy,
Open to receive the sky.
Memories meander in a million days
And hours shoot around the stars,
Seconds burst on passive ponds,
Aware of secret wishes buried
In the sand.
What mole inside his hole will
Cease to wonder,
Measuring the space between his claws,
Listening to dark and distant thunder,
Beating tears upon the ground.
How warm the earth,
How wet the mud,
How juicy are the roots,
The tasty worms,
The tender shoots,
How strong the stone.
And always comes the whistling psalm,
The drips that patter in the calm,
Spinning webs of rainbow specks,
The subtle blend of yellow in the deep.
A golden beetle crawls upon the screen
As in a dream where shadows dissipate in light
His wings vibrating to a microcosmic tune,
To filled this darkened room,
june 20th, 1976 james patrick casey clintondale ny
Brian Horbal likes this.
Christopher Casey Wow.....lovely poetry, James....John F. Casey the second..
July 11, 2010 at 1:43am · James P Casey It's my Rain Dance Poem. It always evokes the smell of rain thru an old wooden screen back door looking out on the greenery of earth glistening. I also once saw a golden beetle on the screen.
July 11, 2010 at 6:10pm · James P Casey And the ozone of a thunder storm.
July 11, 2010 at 6:10pm · Lillian Potteray James - You're your father's son. As a child I remember reading your father's poetry that he had sent my mom when he was overseas. She had saved all of them in some attic boxes which were full of her wedding cards, photos, and important... papers. Your poetry is magic - it envelops. Boy, I'll have to keep my Pocket Guide for Doubtful Spellers/Pocket Guide To Correct Grammar handy when I contact you. Had to read your poetry three times to drink it all in and each time I peeled away another layer of beautiful thought. Are you published? You should be. Not sure you'll even receive this comment but hope so. (Someone has to train me on this facebook.) Maryellen encouraged me to join without any lessons - so I only have her to blame. Mare, are you listening???? When I first got onto facebook today, I saw a Happy Birthday comment from Nicole and now I can't find it. So, Nicole, if you're able to read this, thanks for the good wishes. I did get into your photos, James, and your family is BEAUTIFUL. It's wonderful to see the Casey clan. Give my love to all. LilSee More
July 15, 2010 at 3:50pm ·
James P Casey Lillian, there are no nuns w/yardsticks on FB. In fact there's no such thing as spelling anymore. I gave up being a Spelling Nazi back in the 90's when i realized i was pissin' peepul off at Social Security & doing more harm than good. Anyw...ays w/the techno-speak, e-mail & text-ting & hip-hop slang Engullish iz goen thru anudder of it's continuous mutations. It is an eater(& destroyer) of languages. It takes wurds frum udder lingos und makes it it's own. The 2 main t'ings to remember about Inglish is the "th" zound & the "ing" sonned. Someday if my novel ever gets published I have James Joyce do a monologue on just that or dat. The Irish among others have a hard time w/"th" so we say "t'ing". Anywayz, all de best to ye and yers. Gra agus Solas(Ir. Love & Light).See More
July 15, 2010 at 6:40pm · James P Casey Oh, and I've been publshd in a few anthologies. Rain was publ. back in the 80's in an Anthology called Oxalis. You see us hereditary Seannachie Poets have inherited an Oral tradition, so we'd rather write 'em & read 'em then get 'em 'pressed'. I think it goes back to the Druidic teaching that you shud memorize everything becuz books can be destroyed & you didn't need to read to memorize & orate & pass down knowledge. The brain is still the best computer.
July 15, 2010 at 6:47pm · Lillian Potteray Dear James - you're a doll. Had to read this email just FOUR times before I understood it. You had a "yardstick" nun and I had a "watering artificial plants and believing them real" nun. Now that you've explained my lack of
need for the "...Inglish" language - believe me this is a relief - I implore
you, when you get a chance, to give me some hints on how to work FACEBOOK.
(I already know not to post my credit card numbers/social security number
but other than that, Lord have mercy on me.) I'm not on facebook much but check in to see photos every now and then. (p.s. - I was the only one of my high school "gang" that was pulled out of geometry and put into Language
Skills and the good nuns were at a loss when I flunked out of that too) I
was also kicked out of Choir (monotone). Where's that novel? Can't wait.
Mail me a copy when it's finished. Gra agus Solas Back to YouSee More
July 15, 2010 at 7:12pm via Lillian Potteray James, it might be 30 years late - but congrats (my new speak) on being published for "THE RAIN". It's an absolutely beautiful piece of poetry - up there with Wadsworth, Longfellow (hope they're poets - fell asleep in
English class as well).... I can see your point though about memorizing/orate/pass down. Here are two Nellie stories: 1) Our grandfather reading before his open fireplace for all the local farmers that couldn't read. He'd give them weather and local news and personal stories.She was very proud of him.
2) Her local schoolhouse being raided by the British rounding up all their "Irish" language school books and burning them in front of the schoolhouse. She was frightened to death. But you're too good - you need to share what you write. "press yourself to be pressed"
July 15, 2010 at 7:35pm via James P Casey Me Da told me the same, but not much detail on the burnin' of the Irish books, just that his sister's told him so. Time fer me sleep, so God Bless.
July 15, 2010 at 9:23pm · James P Casey Lillian FB's not as scarey as it appears. Just voice your voice. It's kinda like sittin' around a table havin' a cuppa.