No. 12

leathered patina cradled in your warm

       trembling hands

shining from dazzling two-seamers

       felling mighty pine tarred warriors 

you called me your “Capricorn Kid”

       the can’t miss pitch 

darting across

       glistening Casco Bay.

my fading autograph 

       salted

Mawma’s secret spiced stew

       you simmered for us

win or lose

your fingers

       cresting waves 

through my tousled brown hair

long is the starry night

      as Pegasus bows into the plate

find me here

      the scintillant winged northern sky 

Fathomless. Inevitable. 

 letting fly

    Our tethered fate. 

2024

The Man From Mars

So there was a man from Mars that I once knew in a card game. His name he did not give, and I felt he was a good guy. Of course, a bit strange being from Mars and all, but overall a nice guy with a nice disposition. He told many stories from his life traveling the galaxies trying to find other beings to hang out with. Said he took the form of whatever species he wants as not scare them too much. For us at the card table in Little Lake, Vermont, it was a flannel shirt, long johns, and big Klondike boots. He drank cheap beer and fit right in. Damn good card player too. Said every civilization he has encountered parlayed games of chance. The games all sounded strange, some with levitating silver balls betting which would drop the lowest to the table I think, but overall, they all came down to who could bluff best. 

Now this night we were playing straight five card stud poker. Not a lot of wiggle room for bluffing, usually just one good shot to take the pot. Some find it a boring way to go about it, but I like the simplicity and finite way each hand moves to the next. 

Sam struck up a conversation with this Mars fellow. Said how the hell can he look so normal and be an alien from outer space? Asked him what he normally looks like. Well this Mars friend could not answer the question really. Said he could not really remember because he stays in appearance from the last place until he reaches the next. I thought it must be strange not to know what you looked like at the beginning. I actually asked him if that upset him, that he didn’t know his original form an all. The man from Mars said as far as he could tell, not that unusual in most places he has visited, and particularly on Earth. I think I knew what he meant even though Sam and Jake argued that there was proof all over the place back to what a human embryo looks like on the radar like contraption. The visitor took my absence of objection as an acknowledgement of what he meant. Not in a mean or know it all way to the others, just a glance of knowing. 

The card game wrapped up when Sam needed to get back to his laundry, Jake was nodding off, and our visitor had won all our money and given it back to us steadfast against us telling him he won it fair and square. 

I walked our new friend from Mars outside the small one floor house and along the newly black graveled path up to the gate, about a quarter mile I would say. Stars were bright that night, and a bit of a cold bite normal for this time of late Autumn. With a firm handshake goodbye, I asked him why he thought so many of us seem to lose that wonder of form we came in with, more often than not changing to fit into some jacket that someone else has waiting for us. I said I was not trying to get all metaphysical and such, just that seeing he had travelled the galaxy and seen the same things in other planetary societies or whatever, his opinion could add some fresh light. Lord knows philosophers, shrinks, priests, religions, wars, and the rest has been at odds over that on this planet since we knew. No consensus as of yet far as I can tell. Sin, salvation, dysfunction, evolution, propaganda, corruption, ravaging the planet and the rest kind of runs contrary to that quest for the wonder of being. At least that’s how I see it, and I shared as much with the Mars man. He looked at me and did not say a word. He did not have to. Faith I guess you could call it. Then the man from Mars headed east toward Burlington I would guess. 

Michael Beller, 2017     

The bravest man I ever met

The bravest man I ever met

Was an encounter I will not soon forget

He did not measure his life by victories alone

But deemed failure equally prone

To put oneself in the position to win or lose

Was really his life’s true muse

The unknown is the wonder of this life

That which propels him to each new height

To only bet on the “sure thing” you see

Does not hurtle the spirit to be free

Leaving nothing to chance

Takes wind out of the sails of the dance

Don’t you want to know

How life’s wonder can flow?

To come to that beautiful place

To understand the world is not a dangerous place?

Fly man fly!

Reap what you sow!

Don’t debate on fear

Yes, fear is here

So what.

Fear presents the door

For our courage to reach the shore

To greet the unknown with wondrous space

To live in it’s majestic grace

It’s ever present being

Here I am.

The bravest man I ever met

On his shoulders a flying contraption he did set

Made of metal and things

He set flutter with wings

To discover his place in the universe

A journey he did so traverse

With love for the flight

With love for the that which he set a new sight

To the horizon I followed his silhouette

When I noticed a slight pirouette

A grin hence came around my face

Time to set pace to that place

Soar.

Michael Beller, 2010