James Broughton: "Easter Exultet"

                                                Shake out your qualms.
                                                Shake up your dreams.
                                                Deepen your roots.
                                                Extend your branches.
                                                Trust deep water
                                                and head for the open,
                                                even if your vision
                                                shipwrecks you.
                                                Quit your addiction
                                                to sneer and complain.
                                                Open a lookout.
                                                Dance on a brink.
                                                Run with your wildfire.
                                                You are closer to glory
                                                leaping an abyss
                                                than upholstering a rut.
                                                Not dawdling.
                                                Not doubting.
                                                Intrepid all the way
                                                Walk toward clarity.
                                                At every crossroad
                                                Be prepared
                                                to bump into wonder.
                                                Only love prevails.
                                                En route to disaster
                                                insist on canticles.
                                                Lift your ineffable
                                                out of the mundane.
                                                Nothing perishes;
                                                nothing survives;
                                                everything transforms!
                                                Honeymoon with Big Joy!

"Easter Exultet" by James Broughton, from Little Sermons of the Big Joy (Insight to Riot Press, 1994). Text as posted on Fresh Day (Volume 18). 

Art credit: "The Wings Become Windows Butterfly," photograph by e³°°°. The glasswinged butterfly has transparent wings.

James Broughton: "Not dawdling"

                                                   Not dawdling

                                                   not doubting

                                                   intrepid all the way

                                                   walk toward clarity

                                                   with sharp eye

                                                   With sharpened sword

                                                   clearcut the path

                                                   to the lucent surprise

                                                   of enlightenment

                                                   At every crossroad

                                                   be prepared to bump into wonder

"Not dawdling" by James Broughton, as presented online by Poetry Chaikhana, May 13, 2011. From Little Sermons of the Big Joy: Poems. © Insight to Riot Press, 1994.  

Photography credit: Untitled image by unknown photographer (originally color).

 

James Broughton: "Here's to It"

(A Metaphysical Drinking Song)

Here’s to that thing

we won’t admit! 

Here’s to the omnipresent

It!

Here’s to the IT

in which we sit

and stand and walk

and laugh and spit.

It’s in every act

that we commit. 

It’s our inescapable

requisite.

Here’s to the It,

our benefit

that makes the world

immediate. 

It is the cloth

most finely knit.

It’s all of a piece

but composite. 

It is the suit

with the perfect fit.

It always includes

its opposite.

It’s not the device

of a Jesuit.

It’s much older than

Holy Writ.

It’s not a mechanical

counterfeit.

It’s a metaphysical

hunting kit. 

It’s infinitely definite

and definitely infinite.

And It’s always here

so Here’s to It!

And all It says is

Submit

   to it!

                          

 

"Here's to It" by James Broughton, from Packing Up for Paradise: Selected Poems 1946-1996. © Black Sparrow Press, 1997.

Image credit: "Teenagers Contemplating Sunset," painting produced by computer software, by G.D. Zulch (originally color).


 

James Broughton: "Take the Whole Kit"

Take the whole kit
with the caboodle
Experience life
don't deplore it
Shake hands with time
don't kill it
Open a lookout
Dance on a brink
Run with your wildfire
You are closer to glory
leaping an abyss
than upholstering a rut

  

"Take the Whole Kit" by James Broughton, from Little Sermons of the Big Joy: Poems. © Insight to Riot Press, 1994.  

Photography credit: Unknown.

James Broughton: "This is It"

This is It
and I am It
and You are It
and so is That
and He is It
and She is It
and It is It
and That is That

O it is This
and it is Thus
and it is Them
and it is Us
and it is Now
and Here It is
and Here We are
so This is It

"This is It" by James Broughton, from Packing Up for Paradise: Selected Poems 1946-1996. © HarperCollins Publishers, 1997.

Photography credit: Unknown.