Homer’s (the blind man’s) poetry as seen by helmut s.
Just as Athena would not allow anyone
to pierce her hero’s vitals,
for she wasn’t
with him her toy
her Odysseus, so am I still
on my Odyssey, until my gods are
ready to use another toy to amuse them
as my brittle body gets less acrobatic
and the mind less easy tempted,
I become uncontrollable
for anyone outside
my very own
Agamemnon has his day of glory too,
the Argonauts are reaping victory after victory
in man to man combat.
Over there Odysseus leaving the dead
turns around to skewer Hippasus’ son too,
the blood brother of the wealthy Socus. Somewhow
Socus moves in quick like a god to shield his kin, standing up
to his enemy, crying out,
“Odysseus — wild for fame, glutton for cunning,
glutton for war, today you can triumph killing
such good men — here take my spear
so you’ll breathe your last!”
And wouldn’t it have been for the fact
that the gods had signed up Odysseus
for the lead role in the Odyssey,
another production soon to be staged
Socus certainly would have killed the hero.
Yet Socus is more dispensable,
not needed for the future acts, he has to go.
Athena herself made sure of such.
And Hades greets him opening the gates wide
for Socus in first class, he and his friends riding coach
as the famous coachman takes them
on a grand-tour past all their play- and battle grounds
and through the known parts of the otherworld.
Before Mosslanding he took the road to
what is now a State Park. Open beaches for
the public, where public servants paid by
the public’s dollars lock gates and prevent the
public from enjoying public land
access as these public servants see fit.
Paradox or not?
A monumental place
for many years
where lovers parked, cars rocked,
overlooking the jetty, busying
the finer things in life.
Yes! There he took his smelly pants off,
just like he used to do.
Yet this time it was to get into
the clean pair of jogging pants
his own, which he kept
handy in the boot.
Airing out the smell from his car
he looked at the
signs of regress by having the State
regulating the does and don’ts
causing restrictions for its people
all paid for by these people’s and his tax dollars.
– Jetty Road now at night was being closed –
the beach access restricted.
A distant view at Lovers Point
this was the historic landmark for many
of this county’s lovers.
To lock it up at night: Progress?
No! Cruel reality.
Access or not?
Countless births had started right here,
sperms counted and discounted.
The moon above the ocean to one side
and the safe harbor and slips
for vessels of pleasure and work
boats from the boat yard
were opening wide
their eyes in understanding.
Mother nature and the Pacific Ocean
alike were looking on, so
were some people
from a distance beyond the jetty.
He noticed the new development
on the other side of the harbor
where a fish-house dominated
the sand-spit. Not selling
but to study and protect fish,
that didn’t fill his growling tummy.
He knew whaling used to be
big business, it moved this
harbor here where it was now.
Here the Salinas river used to
meet the open sea once.
Yet Fish-On-Display, the bays crown-
jewel had made its home-port
in the muddy waters under
the stacks of the idle power-plant.
(deification of our own nature)
…he used to come here often
at Jetty Road.
One of these old flames,
was no one less than Deborah.
He saw her just the other day:
After getting a book on D base in
the library he went to see her.
He clearly recalled heading up
Carmel Hill but not in reverse
like Steinbeck said he did — and No!
— he was not going frogging either.
Database functions start with the letter D.
Just like date.
Deborah always was a good date.
“But a data base?” She might
have been the gossip column
of the local newspaper
which was owned by an out-of-towner.
But she wasn’t. And hundreds of addresses
we better don’t mention, otherwise
such would have been enough to
call her a D-base.
Databases had to be formated, the
first row had to contain a different format,
such as BOLD.
To locate a record in
a database using a data form, he
aimed his mouse on Data>Form>
locate Fieldname > Scroll bar.
The command buttons to help
searching New/Del/Find Prev./Find
came in handy.
Deborah was now a sales lady at a
candle-shop in Carmel proper; he
remembered her from La Ida Cafe
not from Steinbeck’s days but Kalisa’s.
Deborah always was bold.
Back then she was a teller,
banking was her day-time job
waiting at nights was a secondary
thingy she did and not only
She liked the fancy
dancing on any flat surface.
Deborah was a social climber too.
She could climb the stiffest
tower, she climbed Coit often.
Deborah had climbed onto, curb-side,
table-side, from side to side.
As long as the bar owner did
not eighty-six her, as it happened
From Halfmoon Bay to Big Sur,
she was very popular.
he knew, therefore called her
a social climber and his
red-wood-slab-tables near the river
in Big Sur, bore marks
her fingernails had left.
One by twos were commonly used,
six red neck milled inches of soft
wood, nailed leaning against
the wall, a perfect picture.
Panels were common too – not any more –
scars on rough red wood heart
1 by 12 tell:
Of banging filling the air.
In the men’s room
across the patio.Fancy
wood carvings described
Deborah’s qualities, intentions and
vital statistics in
lieu of a phone number
which she did not have.
The most unusual spot one
found her initials was inside a kitchen
cabinet in one of the cottages on
the other side of the highway,
inscribed with a Bowie knife
by several bikers
from the big city down south.
…the story was that Deborah single
handed had turned more than one bunch of
frustrated mean men into happy campers.
…the legend was that Deborah had led
armies of men into battle.
He wondered, if Deborah and
Aphrodite had plotted against him
just to see how human he
be and if he would howl too.
He had a question for Ginsberg,
thinking of George who
whenever he told his tale
“…these unforgettable two…
…the spade and the diamond…
…and whenever they visited nothing
was the same,
…the saxophone played Bill
…the horn was blowing Jacky,
…the ivory was tickling Bobby
the pianist was laughing
…while the Sheriff sang under
the boar’s head holding an unlit
and Papa Jake was yodeling
from the bathroom!”