AFTERMATH
Night draws me into dreams
often caves of disquieting
reaching back, to burrow deep
into memory, reconstructing
to mend loneliness, row by row
of collated archives, mega bites
of video re-creations, accessed
involuntarily in sleep, streets
abundantly shaded, yards open
grass, friends remembering
coming home at last, a foreign
yellow car, carrying clothing cases
under green leaves of summer
of my life, recorded intimately there
aftermath traveled, to embrace again
beloved persons, who marked my path.




 
Jan G. Otterstrom F. 1/23/2012 Costa Rica

LOVE VII

In the moon, I see her love 

lamp of night, high on the

porch of heaven, her silk

thread garments hemmed

about the fringe with

shimmering silver twine 

a train of beams, light

of deep reflection, good

endeavors, charity confirms

to destined descendent

impressed, across my

ancestral prairie, of vision

to illuminate the darkness of life.

III

As every good poet or scientist must

Darwin kept notebooks, writing daily

piece by piece of evolutionary mosaicin

October 1838 his mind was focused

on change, the rate of transformation

Malthus influenced thought, he read

in minutiae the records of colleagues

Kalzebue, Lamark, Milne Edward

seven the French Flourens and Serres

research, distant voyages, adaptation

tramping for tropical genera, variation

movement as noted, observed by others

from North or South, across the seas

island to island, even Cuba played a role

evident ephemeral ideas formed, blocked

built upon, shingles of evidence studded

in bright chips of colored glass, sparkling

as they were put together, entry by entry

exposing ever changing operative patterns

of how Nature works.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

November 29, 2010 Costa Rica

IV

June 16, 1904, Dublin, a most

distinguished day in literature

Bloom and Dedalus wander home

James and Nora, the Galway girl

schooled in nunneries, had

a first date, walking Ringsend

leaving behind loneliness, of his

mother’s death, to become a man

from Stephen, the insurgent teen

to Leopold, a complaisant spouse

her letter to Joyce closing “Believe

me to be ever yours”  tenderly to her

“his dear little brown head” sauntering

simple yet astute, jaunty daring,  careless

acceptance of temperament, companion

to the unique intellect of the century.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

December 16, 2010, Costa Rica

V

“So many things that you

would not permit me to say”

March 3, 1918, Guillaume

Apollinaire, in his last year

of life, wed the pretty redhead

Jacqueline, in tradition

his invention to preserve

order of adventure, before

the violent season, his Spring

and youth dead, time banished

he sought to recover

at the frontiers of  the future

having sat beneath frosty stars

in cold trenches, loaded wagons

with corpses of mangled friends

given eight months to live before

the silence, congested lungs and fever

choked the last words from him

Linda, Annie, Marie Laurencin

Madeline of the train and Louise “Lou”

knew  “tant de choses que vous

ne me laisseriez pas dire.”

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

December 15, 2010

LOVE II

Love penetrates the cosmic reach

of mind, assigning virtual form

to unknown bodies, creating space

for them to dwell, as we slumber here

visions appear, dreams revealing truths

that in our waking consciousness

naively confident, in our feeble grasp

of reality, we fail to recognize

even deep psychic disturbances

that move like blooms of lightning cloud

on water, bearing witness to buried

inward experience, warping time

booming fictions, we daily create

piercing fantasies that speak to us

of anxious apprehension, of something

beyond reason, a longing  to grasp

the poetic structure of our tragic history.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

January 13, 2011   Costa Rica

LOVE III

Love is pure voluntary willingness

to sacrifice our life, will and wealth

patience, long-suffering, gentle

unfailing, as ever forgiving, obliterating

conditions, burying remorse;

discovered in sparks of fascination

illusion, noble kindling of desires

nurturing of caring, symphony of

congeniality, weaving common webs

of romance, beyond a veil; revealed in

nature as papa penguins cuddle young

as fierce blizzards blow, birds that search

for sustenance, as chicks wait anxiously

peering, listening for that voice or familiar

flap of wings; no greater love, takes us to

the cross and Mary sitting there, her son

suffocating in agony, forgiving those

for they knew not what they had done.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

January 14, 2011   Costa Rica

LOVE IV

Love is the ordering principle

every link in the chain of being

harmony of heaven; certainty

in doubt; fidelity canceling chaos

foundation of faith; harvest of

humility; master of the meek

vigor of hope; molder of character

imprint of His image in the pureness

of charity, and our treasure map

as we migrate home.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

January 23, 2011    Costa Rica

MOMENT IV

I hear old men’s voices under

the almond tree, the running sea

exhausted on the seething shore

sand and broken shells grating

fragments, husks of labor tossed

letters drawn, on this diary’s page

rinds of  lines scribbled, peeled

from round days, as eventide colors

rage, blazing orange pink, fiery reds

with dusk’s last purple light setting.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

July 9, 2010    The Playa, Costa Rica

O.VI

Old age dulls the urgency

as the years dissipate

the energy of cause, yet my

enthusiasm is not dampened

so I wander with shadows

that walk the overgrown lanes

at noon, then move against

dark trees, lit up in bonfire light

at night; or listen to the harmonies

of stars, sparkling, in winter branches

with a crackle of icy snow; or

the breathing sea, respiring life

before great blooms of heavy cloud

flash with lightning strikes.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

December 19, 2010  Costa Rica

YEARN II

My morning sutured to yesterdays

rending then, thread of years

entering reminiscences that exit

tweets of lover’s nights, heights

of passion, no trespassing

beyond the gate, prints of points

path of scars, healed hurts, wiser

heart to yield this yearning, as dark

clouds to the East threaten

this warm sun with first drafts

of fresh air felt, cool again

my morn, yet resolute to persevere

holding to my dream, stitched tight.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F

October 31, 2010

YEARN V

My undoing, always trying

to reach beyond, to grasp

more than there is, into

imagination, two more

blue birds in the bush

off limits, out of bounds

not content with a rational

world, ever extending

possibilities of existence

glimpsing a totality of forms

believing in extreme frontiers

of variety, the more the better

yearning to translate dreams

into concrete purport, to reverse

the entropy of extinction.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.

December 12, 2010     Costa Rica

                      HEART

My notched heart, almost parted

though willing here amongst

hidden yellow green bent purple

buds, in pairs, pent up longings

compact as meek stones jeweled

deepen love, not a weed yet

flowers in the wind, tested in 

the furnace to brighten its shine

permanence not fading, forever

true fidelity and meadow sweet.


c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.  April 11, 2011
     Costa Rica

RETURN

Horizon through turbulence
layers of cloud, encased in blue
long life drawn out love
occasion for change, setting down
window opening, spreading out
the green flowing beneath
the politics of relations, putting
in motion those forces: truth
unveiling illusion, broadening minds
enlarging hearts, inducing charity.

RETURN II

I have returned to barren hours
of wait, as I walk again this fallow field
of harvested dreams, open spaces
of agenda, to a long corridor of cement
and shade, meetings in abeyance
vague formations of business relations
taking shape from shadows of memory
a rib of relief from intense heat
to water’s edge, restless echoes disturb
the surface, a hurricane that just passed
mental pieces that trip to collate 
on my page to a voluptuous almond tree
a park in Miramar, stillness layers its leaves
corpulent and green, waiting the next encounter
offers of new coordinates for this return.

RETURN III

Heat blankets heat, stifles breeze
the sun more intense, sea waiting
for relief, placid mirror for cumulus
overhead, the water whispers
speaks low, tempered voice
like a convocation of persons
moving along the shore, silent
congregations, reverent assemblage
lapping, withdrawing their comments
tidal talk, listing tides, lineal to
elevated reefs, low murmurings 
from marine gatherings, subdued by heat.

RETURN IV

Age mellows vision, time merges
years fade, fall like leaves
wind whisked along the walks
then reappear in Spring
surprisingly remembered
preserved, embedded in bounds
hollowed of order that separate
instincts from reason, limits
to define divine suffering
urgency of life, bet against death.

RETURN V

Storm, turbulent grey moving closer
lightning strikes, brilliant wires
light charges the air, having found
I may not have returned to search
leaving rain to squall across this valley
to obliterate I, to re-create, re-assert
free of accolades and applause
to imagine the dust of my shell
filling a jar, ashes in an urn, the was
of time sealed as an end, then spread
as thunder recedes, particles of a past
fuel, nutrients, to overcome at last.

RETURN VI

What am I even doing here anymore?
I feel so alone, cosmic distances separate
my dreams, eschatological wanderings
as phases of the moon, a pocked rock
in reflected light, trapped in alienating gravity
battered with eons of affliction, meteors 
flashing in collision, asteroids like trillions of drops
of rain, random faces that fall as loose curtains
wet fissures, disjoined as tears draw out the years.

UNIT LINE

Peeling open that inner emptiness
to fling it flying, that awful gentleness
of absent stirrings, to escape, to run
with open sail some charted line set
by the heart’s compass, its true north
at last cutting a wake through deep
marine blue, porpoise and pilot whale
running ahead to some sonic destiny 
in their voices printing blustery spray
against anticipation of a new horizon.

POEM III

To find a poem here amongst

many voices of birds that move

in the tree tops, congregations

chatter to discuss the day

midst sun shafts splattering

the green along warm drafts

streaming the frowns, as I long

to lift above this aviary, stretching

my wings at last, catching

the air in three dimensions

my center of mass, pitch and roll

yaw the angles of rotation

my axes centered in the stars.


c) Jan G. Otterstrom F. April 12, 2011
Palmares, Alajuela, Costa Rica

Cinders in my eyes and hair

rattle, click clack, the blur

of farms, closely cut fields

smells of hay mixed with coal

one half century ago, when

do I get off this train, does

my destination have a name?

Today I travel buckled in

aluminum capsules bolted to

enormous jets that roar

amplified beasts in a jungle

soaring us to thin atmosphere

bouncing among the clouds

overlooking wide expanse

a slender pencil, light to see

bright from land or open sea.

When do I get off this plane

does my destination have a name?

IMPLICATE

My evening measured

its world in course of many

magnetic poles, abstractions

from an overall, enfolded field

to turn this diurnal darkness

that delays its parting:

heavy overcast seals the land

no sun until the sky breaks

broken ambit of clouds

Caribbean breeze brings new day

as inseparable hours of dawn

breathe away, amidst the palms.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. October 10, 2011

Costa Rica, Central America

IMPLICATE II

Bright heavens within my mind

interior constellations blaze

as cold crisp crystals, holding

fire, distant light behind my eye

stars signaling relations to

understand, to tie my position

here, folded in a local age

far from the still source

of their glowing stage, longing

to return, humble, single goal

in focus of their astral flame.

c)Jan G. Otterstrom F. 10-11-2011

Costa Rica

LOST

Polished oak mahogany weight
pedestal of authority separates
us from their manicured Machiavelli
touch, stuffed shirts, worsted tailor 
cut phylacteries, political images
pandered to empty heads distracted
receiving storms of Pavlovian signals
through T.V. or internet, lead to
obfuscate to error and lost, crusades
warring against Muslim brothers
to recover a mythical Holy Land
yet the only sacred site is within
love being the first, last and only 
battle that we must win yet purest charity
is aggrieved by Paphos, the paphian rule
of Aphrodite: we live deluded in arrogance
believe in superstitions from Medieval
polity and hubris, dragged to ruin by
the consequences of our ignorance.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. October 17, 2011 Costa Rica

REASON

Often our reason defeats us
limits our progress, paralyzed
in a space of thought, grow stiff
fear the irrational, our rigidness
slows us, lethargic we stall
before the unveiling, simple clarity
hidden in the light and shade
of hours, moments within changing
variableness of man, transformation
through renewal, errors and failure
lend, constant exercise of soul.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. October 29, 2011

J.G.O.F.

Born of those who listen
to whispers of wind and track
the fleeting clouds, driven
to grasp more than there is
to launch, intrepid, on uncharted
seas, tempestuous gales challenging
me, playing the fool, God’s jester
to tempt the fates, opening new ways
pioneer of the abyss, abandoning 
security of boredom to have anything
without money, risking all for the green stone
a magic seed or a new idea, nurtured
with love, in a secure home, I soon
grew beyond my stature in confidence
to view new generations on the outskirts
of time, now left to leave these logs
to recount, in written records, my life in diary
giving thanks to loving parents 
who move with Gods among the stars in heaven.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. November 12, 2011 Costa Rica

STONE II

The Lord has called me
to be a stepping stone
that my descendants may
pass safely over turgid
waters, deep dark flow
a stone quarried of minerals
in the mine of time, solid 
dense, coherent rock
as green as forest emerald
dew drops after rain; gold 
as the cast of autumn foiled
in sapphire blue skies, along
lapis lazuli seashores under
silver gray snows of overcast
indirect light, washed with
an afternoon jade polishing
sure stepping in the sun
or under the moon’s glow at night.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. November 19, 2011 Costa Rica

SACRIFICE

Sorrow of separation overcome
in the joy of immolation, no greater
love than to die for your friends
to sacrifice your life for family
or country, to be burned at the stake
or nailed to a tree for what you believe
what a blessing that would be;
slaughtered in the first wave to shore
or shot from the sky, your Avenger
going down with you in flames, cooked
alive in your Humvee as it detonates
a desert land mine, your posthumous
Purple Heart reverently delivered
to loved ones with Presidential condolences
certificate that the ultimate sacrifice was made.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. November 18, 2011 Costa Rica

ALIGN V

The fluidity of options flow
with change in circumstance
new experience disturbs
conceptual frameworks, twists
beams of balance, bends posts
of thought, only alluded dark
regions appear, taking one into
unknown territory, trees entwined
forests of glade then shade
to expansive seashore, drifting
sands, events moved by tides
sifted by waves, the surge of surf
leaving a vanishing sheen, context
on the seething shore, of argument
then flooding, in answer, caves carved
as the moon’s phase turns, questioning
the modality of day’s choice of chores.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. November 29, 2011 Costa Rica