this paper is a poem
• Rick
Davidson
• AFTER - Rick
Davidson
• Playa Prophecy - Pano
Douvos
• Lovers Frost - Vessy
Minkovski
Rick
Davidson
For newcomers or those too
young to have known Rick, know that, among many other accomplishments, he
designed Tabor Courts low-cost housing at 345 4th Avenue and the new Ash Grove
on the Santa Monica Pier. He worked tirelessly against the Vietnam War and went
to Nicaragua to help repair the damage caused by U.S. policy. He created paper
collages with intricate but subtle patterns that adorn many a Venice home. He
was editor, publisher, and contributor to Griot: A Journal of Native
Consciousness, wrote and staged the play An Internal Trilogue: talking with
myself, and wrote numerous other works of prose and
poetry.
************
AFTER
by
Rick Davidson
Who will look after
us
when we are
gone?
Not our
bodies
they will decompose
faster
than last
week’s
shopping
list.
No,
not
the material us…
the spiritual
us.
The essence we
developed,
nourished, tested,
and would like
to
pass-on.
Who?
Just
memory, I guess.
Our ideas, actions,
writings,
stories,
songs
will
also be gone
sooner or
later.
It’s what we
deposit
in the
hearts
of
others.
But what—when
they’re gone?
Who cares? What
difference
will it make—that’s
the truth
of
universe.
Do you miss the stars that
are gone?
Even the ones you
see
are not really
there.
Does that
matter?
The pharaohs, even their
pyramids
will
eventually
return to
dirt.
You
see,
life’s secrets
reinforce
the Now, the Present,
Life—not
what comes
after.
It’s one of the great religious
secrets
of all time
: :
:
Playa
Prophecy
Washington and Lincoln
beloved presidents both
honored by street
names together in Venice at
a corner to be as
buried as the presidents
come the year
2005—it has been so written
madly
30,000 new people with their 20,000 cars
will
strangle Playa Vista Land
realtors and
building-trades applaud, carpet sellers
shiver
peoples lungs and none of the birds
will applaud
look close see tears in the eyes
of the birds
who watch the thieves of the
Indian lands—
the
“cement-heads”—paving over our last open
space
in Los Angeles comes now The Last
Traffic Jam
a final car noses out of Playa
Vista and
Grid-Lock! no going back, forward,
around or
over…city-wide everything
stops
Disaster Relief reacts
finally…says, bury the cars as
is
dirt-fill the crevices, grade everything
level
start over clean…just car-size
higher
plant grass, orange trees, shade
trees
rescue the LA river…allow the
return of fish
animals and flocks and flocks
of birds
shortly, small soundless
electric cars appear in
limited numbers with
bicycles on park-and-share basis
all is
tranquil…noise and air pollution
gone
clean lungs return to the aroma of
orange blossoms
and strong hearts beating to
the chirp of grateful birds
Venice now
becomes the hub, the most
people-friendly
place in the world
full of people speaking to
one another…
it has been so
written
–Pano
Douvos
************
Lovers
Frost
by Vessy
Minkovski
Like eyes are always
crying
From the beauty that the
other
Doth
posess
In a momentary understanding of
another
Like eyes do love
posess
And in this
realm
A pain so deep in me
awakened
I grieved and lost another moments
worth
So shaken as a ship in stormy
weather
Forgetting that a new love
Had been
birthed
And to the night I gave all my
confessions
As dawn then found me
wavering
So weak from only seeing what
I’d lost
The cold air chilling me with
lovers frost
Like eyes are always
crying
From the beauty that the
other
Doth
posess
In a momentary understanding of
another
Like eyes do love posess.
Posted: Mon - July 1, 2002 at 06:11 PM