A wonderful celebration.

To a friend in Brighton,England. 

who wants to see a Shakespeare performance in LA by Ian McClellan. 

I would love that i were there  

but alas I fly across oceans and continents  

to meet with my friends Paul and Ashley 

Adsett in Brighton 

where Shakespeare meets every and all actors 

In his Divine ever present magnificence 

cannot  the Adsett's be here  and there  

in Brighton and Los angeles simultaneously 

if Kalinich could write this kind of poem

that is the transporting of the self

in multiple places

the poem would be Born

that can save each soul

in this journey

I ache for your loss

but know that deep within you

at a level you may only sense

lies William Shakespeare

himself,

the Bible, the Gita

and all poems and actions-

and thoughts like this

that sound like farce

turn it to your heart

and you will find it true

you lie in all

and all Ly's in you.

There is no day or night

all is light without the Sun

Darkness never runs there

for they do not run

nor do they stand

or contemplate alone

they live their drama and dream

speak without a phone

every melody and symphony

recorded before time

is there in the subtle and sublime

source of all

it is there on Brighton shores

and in  the soul that pores  its pores

opens doors

withstands all pain

to rise again.

Where I go with this verse

I cannot say

it is having its own way

i resist and do not obey

for all is fluffy

and soft like a dream

and things are not always

what they seem

one must not scream

from the madness and the plague

there is sadness in the days

that will one day pass

there are secrets here

hidden in the grass

under a stone

or rocky smile

on the cliffs and oceans

every inch and every mile

there is  a presence

we can barely behold

whose story has never  been told

unfolding in us all

the ever present call

the inner cry

waiting for release

does not want to die

its plea and groan

methinks could explode

it is so fragile and so strong

the only song ever written

that creates all

resides in each cell

the infinite the tiny

the small

its there in every trip i take

when i am asleep

or awake

in Binghamton New York

Washington DC

in Paul and Ashley

all my friends

across the sea SEA

IN RICHARD Durrant

strumming HIS GUITAR

it is so close

but it is as close

as it is far

it cannot be grasped or articulated

yet without it

we could not speak

it is what we seek

what we are

the ever present rider

the pen that moves the poem

the spirit running through us

even in our loneliness

we are not alone

we just think we are

we cut ourselves off

we strangle our sensations

outlive all nations

we have come to this cross road

of the soul

and certainly

this life takes its toll

tests our sensibilities

nothing lasts

nothing to hold or attach

a match can burn it all

but something within us

is waiting to jump out

what it is the world

does not know

but it is growing inside  of us

and for all we know

today could be

the beginning of eternity

or the realization

that you are me

and I am you

so now what do we do

do we stew in the juices

or fight

will we keep falling and failing

until we get it right.

That is the line of it today.

Can we get out of our own way?

Stevie k

Stephen John Kalinich Notes

C.20o7 All Rights reserved

C.2011 rewritten