Alois

Saint~Marten`s

Equinox

Torrance, Pasadena, Ca. 2000 ~ 2010

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death's dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind's singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star. T.S. Eliot

El Nino Are you sure All I see are Papyrus and Lotus Flowers Crocodiles swimming in the long low lying shadows of the dusk shrouded Citys Temples and Palaces The rabble of the City The Sultry music filled Incense The city walls disappearing over the horizon.

Howl Where are you now Black Santa back up to your abode high in the desolate moonlight The Khyber Pass The Gobi desert La Canada/Flintridge. The City sinks into the torrents muddy wallow like a silent tearful marooned crocodile I remember the afternoon the Santa Ana Winds turned these fabled Idyllic Hills into a Hollywood Sum of all fears Nuclear nightmare. And I thought What do you care Leonardo de Caprio as you sip your Caramel Macchiato Frappuccino there in your plush Location Trailer dressing room. What do you care

Late Breaking News A fight broke out in the towns Main Square. And then another, out in the giant shopping center parking lot over at the old mall. A Big fat kid holding an Extra Large Raspberry White Chocolate Frappuccino and a Two Foot Long Bag of Fresh Hot Buttery Popcorn and his Mom walked away from the Multi Theater Cineplex dissatisfied with the huge Scoreboard Sized Directory " were better off staying at home and watching Cable News " she remarked. Suddenly there was a large Earthquake and the sky darkened with clouds and the Earth moaned and broke open with Thunder spewing Fire and Brimstone high into the angry Sky And there were silence in Heaven for about half an hour

Omen And it Rained Like it never has before or ever will again And went out to find the doorstep and the sidewalk covered with earthworms. And grabbed the garden hose and washed them out into the street backing up the sewer And laughed not with a bang, but a whimper.

Omen II Back down into the sewer Block by block district by district across the city to the sea Where at home in the open sea they would swarm together in large schools like the others The Commercial fishermen who would pull them up by the ton in their nets The Marine Biologists who could not agree on a concerted program of containment That Confidence that comes from being on your own II. Out in the distant low lying fields of the small rural township The skies began to darken and the wind began to blow The spotting droplets of rain starting to dampen The busy Avenues and Shoppe canopys

running down the rutters and gutters filling the storm and irrigation canals creeks and ponds...

On The Beach Poor little duckling so sad no more momma so hungry Inside hurt so bad

Paranoia That Grin What is that Grin There amidst the raging Inferno. That it is only natural to watch these Idyllic hills Burn alive like Judgment Day Only natural ? How else, could one explain such a thing? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! ...

The Fable To the Arabah where the wind speaks in tongues amid sinkholes and Salt Pillars Where wander the Old, the Great Ones across the years Turning to bone and lime beside the shore of an unnamed sea A Starfish a Pelican The Great Seal of The President of The United States of America

The Lonely Behind the pleasing esthetic of the Marketplace Stalls lurks a darker visage of bloody trembling livestock opportunistic eager scavengers and lonely tired faces Of the Embezzler the Despot and the Usurer

The Still Bright Moon And the drifting Eurasian Winter lay bare the raw face of the Mountain Healing him like a nurse save those scars that will never really heal

The pleasant nest of the Dove The cozy subterranean niche of the Hare The Noble dominion of the Deer The Sacred grove of Golden Oaks The Quartz Canyon that he himself carved from the lofty summits of Olympus height And The Lord looked down from Heaven and saw that the only Inclination of the Man were continually toward Evil and became sore grieved that He had made he him

The Prelude At Dusk when the skys darken and the winds begin to rise and whip about Howling over the cold barren Hills and Woods Through the empty Barns and Swinging Shutters And the first pelting drops of rain burst into Thunder and Lightning And pause for a moment, wondering what is it that lies on the other side This then being what I saw in the Dream behind the thunder and the lightning

Apparition The crack of Eventide Late June 2010 A flight of Trumpeter Swans outbound South by South East from Devils Gate Reservoir Jesus appears to his disciples walking on the waters of Gethsemane

August 8, 2008 At Dusk the Comet appeared on the Horizon An Omen ! A Sign Yet another Pitiless Plague or Curse Sending Flights of Birds and Bats High into the Metropolitan Skyline and Feral Dogs and Vagrants out into the lengthening Shadows There was a brief Squall and a considerable amount of Rain in certain parts of Town As Children played wildly in The Streets and the more mature delighted Festively in the Enchanting Respite Miles and Miles away Zachary Strict reflected from his Old derelict Rocking Chair on The Front Porch overlooking The Fields of his distant lonely Farm Peach Pie. He Mused Peach Pie Thick and High

Esther Waited for Her by The Gate as usual To catch a glimpse of her as she disappeared from the Colonnade into The Tower To take her place beside The Sun, The Moon, and The Stars from the lonely ungleaned fields of the Suburbs to the Royal Concert Hall , in the bustling Core of the Metropolis. Standing Wired and Lucid as a Black Cat beneath The Hundred year old Street Lamps over on Memorial Park Rd. at 2:00: am in The Morning. Barely making the last Train for Town The only other person on the train some immune little possum faced Girl in an old Black Orlon Sweater making her lonely way Home from the last shift at the corner Coffee Shoppe

January New Years lingers on unto Orthodox Christmas. Christmas Cards on the Fireplace Mantel Panettone Sweet Tamales Great Grandmas Fine Bohemian Kitchenware Robert Goulet That Nervous looking Old Floor Heater. The Family is still close The World is still at Peace.

February From out the windy gusts and wisps of the Maples cold bare arms run the rustling winter vestments Of Ghosts. Streetlamps alit

against a Strawberry mouse sunset

The Old Church so firm upon the dark earth like a Crock of Baked beans and Spanish chorizo

In Her bright incandescent lit Bedroom

on the third floor of The Rothschilde Apartment building A Beautiful voluptuous Girl models an elegant Hourglass Corset before a large expensive Vanity The low moaning wind sweeping The late years burnt leaves into The City square Far beyond the sleeping City high up in that Spectacular cold clear sky This then being what I saw In the Dream

before That dangerous looking Old floor heater and the last glass of Holiday Spirits.

Inter March The cold dark cover of Winter reveals a vacant barren landscape like the Firmament separated from The Waters Submerged Trees Seaweed Abandoned Buildings a Silent City Drying out in the crystal clear steadily blowing breeze Movement The distant soft sound of Music Emerging from the deep slumber of Night To a cold and somber lush spreading forest green World An Old Man about early snugly dressed in old Irish wool with the number of his God sealed upon his forehead

April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain

The New Day And the Votive Paraffin Candles blew out with Winter in The Year of Our Lord 2008 And the city stood cold and motionless like an imaginary Kingdom on the Sea And the Ghosts of all those poor lost souls drifting along the empty streets and alleys like so much uncollected garbage to the roar of those big expensive foreign made V12 engines paving the way to a brand new day And all the Easter doves all the Spring Carnival souvenirs all the flashy Designer Label Denim suits all the Last Night of the World partys till dawn... Found you and your humble Little Family sailing calmly on at the head of the parade in that big expensive bomb proof Limousine.

The Promised Land Sunset The Farmer at his Field of reddish brown Grain. One more Stack before nightfall Boys The ever pessimistic Raven at his lonely silhouette Watch. A Pensive Hare The Old Utilitarian Barn filled to the Rafters and overflowing with Ripened Corn, Colorful odd shaped Squash and brimming Sacks of sweet aromatic Nuts. Napkins Tablecloth Cabbage and Bacon, Noodles, Sausage with Blood, Black Bread and Homemade Butter. Grace.

September Lost

Labor Day 2010 The Department Stores came out with their Halloween Theme Decorations early this Year A clever advertising ploy in Tough Times Thick Skins on an Onion mean a long hard Winter The Old Farmers Almanac will tell Fromof a Winter that lingered till late of May leaving a lucid, quiet, landscape of lonely bare trees and thawing frostbitten earth To a Summer That burned on As some kind of Supernatural Presence a Sum of all Fears nuclear nightmare or End of Days solar catastrophe Indian summer Mule Deer dancing in smoldering fields of White Corn

4:00: pm The Crack of Dusk The distinct aroma of Steak Diane permeating the neighborhood on the walk home from work Sweet the Wood Ramadan Rosh Hashanah Equinox The Still bright Virgin Witch and Her Conjunction of Celestial Maidens, Hansel and Gretel on their way Home from Bible Study, The Shopping Cart Caravans along Carpenters Alley, A Black Cat. The Corner Grocery Store where I used to buy White Rock Cola, Cheetos, and Garbage Pail Kid bubble gum cards Four blocks down from the High School where I read Bradbury, Vonnegut, Auden, Ginsburg, and tried L.S.D. for the first time The Old Neighborhood where I watched all my Friends and Family

marry and move off like Prince Charles and Leonardo De Caprio ? The Old Mall Cineplex where I would watch 1999 unfold every Saturday Night Waited like a Child for Christmas For Rain for Snow an Ice Age that would bring The Spring of a New Day After Tomorrow One Ready to Go Poor Boy A Pint of Ale and The Evening Paper Some crazy Black Man murders his Wife and Kids sets fire to their Home and runs out into broad daylight screaming something about not having L. Lewis Brown to kick around anymore where he is Promptly and Abruptly Shot Dead by Twelve Spencer County Sheriffs Deputies.

I just cant get used to watching Monday Night Football on ESPN My but Halloween does come early these Days

Siesta The steady Santa Ana winds blowing up the hill to the sleepy little Mexican restaurant where are Menudo and handmade tortillas The pretty young waitress in traditional folk costume The lazy October sun right out of some muralist wildest dream When the world comes to an end history will come to Mexico and they will sit burning Copal and drink Cocoa reading good books until Nightfall when the Moon rises and the first Snow falls in the Mountains San Juan Capistrano Oct 10, 2008

Twice Told Tales The corner Tamale vendor. A small gathering of Peruvian Mummies laden with Grocery Bags. One little White Angel waving its Magic Wand, a Hobo a Jaguar A Skeleton. Because this is The Night when He calls his faithful from the Gleanings of The Harvested Earth. The Raven and The Scarecrow. The Werewolf and Frankensteins Monster. Flora Mc Donald Christine O Donnell, The Good The Bad, and The Ugly. A fallen and trampled FOR SALE Sign. Cracked peeling Paint Tarnished Chandeliers Dusty linen covered Furniture. Cobwebs Silverfish

The small quite sound of running mice. A valuable Nineteenth Century Portraiture. Homemade Popcorn Balls A CD with five Free Music Downloads Bubblegum Cards Apple Chips...? A House covered in Toilet Paper and Shaving Cream. The Loud Wild Rabble of a big Rave style Costume Party. This is Their House That Old Somber House up The Street, were you never see anyone save this one night of the year. The Butler of course. A dark drafty lobby. And then, seemingly from out of nowhere The Lady of the House and her finely polished Silver Serving Tray of pungent Woodsy Herbal Tea and Biscuits. Her white haired Slavic speaking mother.

Parlor Music

The Poet Virgil And Behold The Magic Kingdom Smoldering and Howling Mad as a liberated Insane Asylum. A Fire Breathing Dragon on the shores of a quite still sea awash with stinking dead Sea life. And I came to realize that I was having a Vision as in A Movie Theater. Kate and Willie discussing Global Economics over Fine Liquor and Opium. And I saw a Woman a very rich wicked looking woman whose speech and clothing were as that of an ordinary humble woman. And she stood on the top of a Great Lofty Temple that were high as a Mountaintop Summit. And all below her were a multitude mass

who when summoned by The Woman joined tougher their voices As if One Singing The Time is now The Hour has come. Destroy all Monsters quite conceivably The Greatest Halloween Movie of All Time. And so it was that this is where The Poet left of me. In a Cold Dark Windy Field of Bare Trees, Haystacks, and odd shaped Squash. Drinking Whiskey and Rye and Singing this will be the day that I Die

All Day Long When The Sun rose the lord sent a scorching East Wind upon The Man Times were hard a long Time passed So that he came to forget where he came from and why He was here. Thus cursed the land where he dwelt became Ambitious vowing to let No One or No Thing stand in His way. But the harder He tried the more frustrated and embittered he became. No opportunity no compassion No remorse And the blazing sun burnt down on his bald sore head as he grumbled to himself in a numbing ether of cigarette butts and cheap liquor.

Someday
the bleak Doldrums Skies

will break as The Sun sets and darkness spreads out over the landscape and the mountains thunder with lightning And The Rains begin to fall and fall turning to Sleet and Snow by Nightfall Like it never has before or ever will again.

Arizona And unto Adam He said: Cursed is the ground because of you by toil shall you eat of it all the days of your life.... Imagine the thousands of years it must have taken Early Man to domesticate the wild beast Generations, Ages Shorelines Passes and Plains The Spanish introduced Domesticated Sheep into North America early in the 16th century to a semi nomadic people who were familiar with civilization but who dwelt in relative isolation from the rest of the world The first English Speaking Europeans did not enter Arizona until well into the 19th century A remote inhospitable landscape as far from Northern Europe as Western China

The Spanish under The Habsburgs made no serious effort at colonizing the northern frontier of Nuevo Ezspania But the Bourbons pressed hard on all sides by her European rivals envisioned the assimilation of their French and Spanish domains as a means of Salvation to their quick fading Glories Whatever trials the Bourbons faced in their efforts to hold on to New Spain The Mexican Revolution Inherited Sevenfold The Americans would no more honor her claims than she herself would the French But unlike Texas Arizona did not become a State until 1911. Townsmen vs. Cowboys change will never come easily for Arizona If the Hardheadedness of the Towns continues along the current path... Her wells will run dry her fields will wither and turn to weeds and her streets run wild with Eagles and Rattlesnakes in broad daylight

Daydream I wonder what it would be like to suddenly become saturated with Crude Oil And then Suffocate to Death on the surface of a large Slick

Time In The Dream I woke to find myself a Stranger in The City Trying to find my way home looking for some Way Out some Landmark a Building I hoped would still be there The usual Faces on The Boulevard There was a street the police had blocked off facial expressions that seemed suspicious wary of strangers

And then it hit me

I wasnt lost Downtown I was Over Seas in some Eastern European New Republic Country

The Journey The Rising sun burns into the vacant solace A ghost town just outside the city limits Wearing away in the wind Gathering high into the Atmosphere darkening the Landscape Inflation Unemployment Homelessness Suddenly turning to Mud Famine and Death Washing down to the Sea Wandering along that dark cold endless road Freezing solid in the hour before dawn Revealing a cruel ironic landscape Snowflakes falling in Cypress Forest high in the Distant Mountains

Where is a temple city kept by a race of monks who have a saying That when The End of The World comes to the walls of their City they will bring Him Tea And a humble meal of Fragrant Rice and Seasoned Vegetables?

Walmart Did you have to Work The Holiday again this Year? Did your Union turn its Big Fat Smelly Ass on You? Leaving your Thanksgiving Dinner Out in The Cold. No John Williams No Benjamin Franklin No Pumpkins No Corn No real reason to be grateful Work the Holiday! Or look for another Job! Left out in the Snow in pursuit of The American Dream Happy Holidays from Our Family to Yours!

On a Controlled Burn In the Fall Insects turn into fallen leaves and Toadstools. Then in the spring back into Crickets and Butterflies. A little Fairy reminds them about the Lord Toad, The Lily pond and dawn Elk.

I suppose someday The Imbecile will cause himself a hurt not even Dr. Stephen hawkings himself might ever hope to heal.

Kalita Kalita the Deer remembers The River and Lulea the Gull remembers The Great marsh. Topeka the Coyote still ranges the nearby hills throughout the hazy maroon Sunset. Sometimes Georgina the Cat prowls the large spreading branches and Rancho hills estates sporting for Doves and acorn munching squirrels. Once while following a rabbit trail through the fragrant salt brush to a small hill overlooking University Park rd. A terrible thought occurred to me: and what happened to Kalita Where is Kalita? of the great Live Oaks over in The Meadows between University Park

Nursery Rhyme

NEWS FLASH Force Weakening of spring output lowest in One million years. Wise old analysts fear Global Warming Hopelessness of Mankinds condition may signal Global Event. All ears pointed toward skies as earf awaits another long hard summer of drought. Courtesy little green planet news....

Perspective In The Future most Humans will be raised in Incubators like Chickens. And will be fed Formula by Nurses through Feeder tubes And the Pigeons will look down from their Tall somber Heights and Chuckle.

Revenge I saw Him like a Little Child at play Conjuring Curses and Spells Thunderstorms Sleet and Snow Butterflies and Honeybees Against the Human Inhabitations along the edge of the Foothills Though hardly to blame themselves He holds them Responsible For all the Grief and Misery theyve caused After All hes just a Little Bear

The Divine Creation If Autumn should turn to Winter However long and hard that Winter should be. If the Abomination that causes Desolation should wash this World clean as an Aegean Island Know this for certain it would be no Accident it would not be Your Fault You would not be to Blame If the icy frozen carcass of a calf is chewed and gnawed by starving Wolves if Fuel and Medicine become more Precious than Pearls, Platinum and Diamonds If the wind barren trees should then blossom and the snow shrouded Inland Seas should thaw and teem with Birds and the thick and hardy grasses return upon the Land

If by Summer We should Fail at our first attempt at Civilization or our Second or our Third Whether here or in some distant corner of the Universe It would be no Accident

Alois Saint~Marten First Complete work from Author. Am making the Work available For Your Consideration, but I would consider Publication, should anyone express such an interest . Equinox is an entirely Aesthetic journal, based on personal experiences, and a mystical perspective that has haunted me since Childhood. My Politics are quite different from my Spiritual endevours. As a Boy I grew up idolizing Ray Bradbury and Edgar Allen Poe. As an young adult Kurt Vonnegut led me to Allen Ginsburg, and 20th Century Poetry. It wasnt until I was Twenty Four that I discovered W.H. Auden and Karl Marx; So I guess Politics is only my second true love. Equinox is only the First effort in a proposed Trilogy based on the same concept. I am hoping to withhold the Complete Anthology* for Publication, and it was progress in this area that helped compel me to provide this Introduction. I am also currently working on a Poetic essay based on Socio Political and Philosophical thought; but this may be a few years in the making

Examples of my Politics can be found at many places around the Web. My Facebook Pages are probably the only one`s really worth mentioning at this point, but that is destined to change soon as well Graciously Yours Albert Louis (Alois) Saint-Martin https://www.facebook.com/aloistmartin https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alois-Saint-Martins-SocialistWorkers-Blog/145234985539664 Equinox The Turning World The Great Dragon All Rights Reserved