Teak, The Poet Tree

    “What I yearned most for as a child that I did not get?” She asks us as I sit at our journaling group at the drop-in center for the mentally ill. I am out of breath, gasping for air, tension electrifying out of my skin – bombarded by manic drivers, sub woofers on steroids, rudeness, and then a loud stereo greets me, as I enter here at Seward Community Support Program.   I have general anxiety disorder, bipolar disorder and a super sensitivity to loudness, I have Lyme and bartonella diseases which exacerbate this; I have Babesia (a red blood cell parasite) and human herpes virus six; all are very difficult to get rid of. I leave home only for health appointments and this wonderful group ─ As all my being tries to relax,   I ponder what as a child I did not get:   My genes have the blues. I wanted ─ and still do ─ DNA swirling in rhythmic harmonious helixes,   endorphins partying in vast numbers round my campfire, neurotransmitters, encephalins and happy hormones swarming my attitu

  From a most admired friend, William Shakespeare, in Hamlet affixed in verse eternal:   “Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, such shaping fantasies That apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover and the poet are of imagination all compact. The poet’s pen gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name.”   AIRY NOTHINGS By Teak Kilmer I too lie down with words, in the reading and the writing   That which we can know by sensate pleasures Pales before what we may forage with our souls In our whimsical meanderings, airy nothings, Round Spirit’s laughter and angels’ comforts Apparitions of grander providence and conceptions bring Rushes fore and aft and tickle to my fancy, so That I might wonder why ever I have caved To worry, fear and doubt …   But fleeting are these Holy Moments and soon forgot When pitching headlong into depression’s grave Cowering, then bellowing-back … at anxiety’s injustice Despairing near suicide – over what? – We can hard

FLOWERS (or Posey Poesy)          By Teak Kilmer       This poem is my response to my distant cousin Joyce Kilmer’s famous poem “Trees" That ended: “Poems are made by fools like me/But only God can make a tree”   Flowers, we must certainly agree are even lovelier than trees   Trees have greater majesty but so sweet is the scenting of a breeze that brings me downwind to my knees   And so sublime those colors bright that bring glory to my sight for my soul to find delight making effort seem so trite   Poems are made by God not fools but God does need fools for writing tools  

 Hi Dad                                  By Teak Kilmer                                 Sometime in 2002   Did your dying start when your dad died and your mother wanted to die and you asked “Don’t you even want to live for us, mom?” and you were eight , and the youngest and her favorite and she said “No, Thalas... not even for you!”   I was glad, mostly, but scared when you died but dumbstruck that there were nausea and trembling where fond memories and joy might have been What a chance we missed   We could have fished together but you took the Chesterfields and Jim Beam instead of me into that wood smelling lake rhythmed, oar driven row boat   We could have played ball, taken walks talked about our lives; you could have parented but you spent your nights mated to bookkeeping for your Speed Queen Appliance Company store   While addicted to our round screened, black and white Zenith TV, to a can of Planter’s Cocktail Peanuts and a gallon of Gallo Port Wine served up

  Peanut Butter and Bacon July 30 th , 2009 By Teak Kilmer   Hadn’t seen Michael since my wedding eight years ago and longer before that We sat in his disordered writer’s hovel and talked His heart and his soul were, however, in as fine a fettle as ever and I knew that that, and memories, were why I was there   We had painful, despairing childhoods, tragedies and rebellious acts strewn about like garbage in the streets But we two half Irish boys became joined at the lip and by the heart, and in our despite-it-alls   We shared blues and jazz and honky-tonk  that in the 40s and 50s were both historic and new  From “Ja Da” and Joe “Fingers” Carr,  Bix Biederbeck  and Josh White, Richie Havens, Joan Baez   Louis Armstrong in his underwear as we crashed his dressing room,  the Village Gate and “Take Five”, Cafe Wha, Eddie Condon's Jazz club, dancing with Nina Simone after her concert at Cornell University,  gingerly sneaking into Mike’s older brother Rick&#

My name is Teak Kilmer, well really, it's Thalas Garadus Groospeck Macelious Quackenbush Michael Meiers Kilmer Jr. (and that's the  reason  I’m an alcoholic). Truth be told, these are more names than are on my birth certificate, but I grew up believing these were all my names (a joke my family played on me). I really am an addict and have emotion sickness from trauma and genetics.  My life has been a wild but challenging ride. I have accomplished much, met nearly 50 famous people, and have a plethora of amazing stories. I'm also an observer of life, a poet, writer, copy editor, amateur 'spiritual' etymologist, fine furniture artist, former, co-founder and first president by acclaim of the Minnesota Woodworkers' Guild (now second largest in the nation), reformer of the American massage equipment industry from basically nearly junk quality to having maybe the best equipment anywhere.    At age 16, in 1956, I successfully began a civil rights movement in my hi