Teak, The Poet Tree

  An Addict's Tale by Teak Kilmer So why did I go to the noise where I was unwound? Why did I cease praying, meditating? For what did I choose forgetting, forgetting God? I was surrounded with the clatter of busy, sensual temptations I went to my addictions They were mine , not God’s , but They seemed to allow me to be my own God to seem to let me be in charge I created my life, I thought but I found I had to unceasingly recreate who I was I was always afraid, especially when my addictions were threatened These, I thought, would make me happy They did not I now have come to dedication and honesty Courage to seek my true self have traded my control for surrender traded avoidance for connection for trust, for community Centered in the care of God in the blessings of the twelve steps and the loving support of my groups I do indeed … surrender

  The salmon climb  the crystal stairway making kids  uniquely their way

    As my wife, JoAnne, and I sat in the front row of the Saint Paul Cathedral in Saint Paul, Minnesota circa the year 2000, we watched Yo-Yo Ma in the softest demeanor adjust the positioning of his chair. I leaned over and whispered to my wife:     Mello Yellow Cello Fellow  

  Jerry Lee Lewis : His intention was to play piano like Chet Atkins played guitar – as Sam Phillips put it: “Jerry Lee was (playing the piano like he was) driving to Hell at 90 mph.”   Sam Phillips was the owner and manager of Sun records which, according to research done by Guterman.com, got rich by hiring mentally ill performers – First Elvis, then Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis, Little Richard and Roy Orbison for starters.   Orbison, Elvis and Jerry Lee had been diagnosed with manic- depression (bipolar).   “Whole Lotta Shakin Goin On” was his first hit recording.   “They (Jerry Lee’s band) played it at Sun the same way they played it onstage: intense, disquieting, unrelenting. Jerry Lee crashed through the song as if through a bedroom window. And he could never play the song the same way twice.”    

  A similar sound to squeezing the mustard Comes the fart ─ but a lower chakra shout ─ Apparently just dying to get out        

  Whenever I have paused to write to you a tribute I am confronted with dumbfounded-ness You are the one subject that to describe puts me in most dire humility I know I cannot find the words to serve as your descriptors for words are but symbols of symbols, twice removed from that Great Spirit from whence we’ve come whose music you forever seem to dance to Indeed Shakespeare would take pause before such task   Do I stand in silence upon this stage and just feel the experience of you? In that too I would fail, for you are beyond what I can access You have cleared clutter from out your soul that lingers still in mine What I talk, you walk, my model, my goal for living in the place of trust and forgiveness You accommodate every errant move I make always knowing so much more than I that the o ut-rage-ous has not Been I at al l but my illusions that I have born of anxiety, of doubt and the throes of my dis-eases   You are as wondrous as God can make a soul your ascension delayed only b

The Fats of Life By: Teak Kilmer  Circa 2004 I love fats: marinated, mesquite chip, char-broiled juicy, thick, porterhouse steaks, ketchup soaked, dripping burgers and oozing fries, Coho salmon floating in white sauce   Fats Waller ─ now that was one jive cat stompin’ music, rhythms spiraling heavenward melodies, harmonies and euphonies, stirred and stirring the innocent   caramel and whipping cream soaked chocolate amaretto cheese cake ice creams marbled with dancing flavors   aroma and color therapies of Crayolas jumping out’ their box in groups of sixty-four, greasing my coloring book lipstick ─ the one crayon remaining to my allowance soothing me with memory, intimacy and promise   organic extra virgin olive oil drenching onioned and herbed, whole grain French sourdough OH, AND ... BUTTER ... pooled in toe-curling-flavored red kuri ( oh, my God! ) squash   fatty tissue gathered lovingly in nice places on my sweetie   Fats Domino who “Ain’t That a Shame’d” and “Blue Berry