JAMES’ POETRY
James Broughton was a poet in the tradition of Rumi, Hafiz, William Blake, Walt Whitman, and other ecstatic, Divine Trickster poets who trick, tempt, tease, and seduce us into a direct, playful, and wondrous relationship with life, God, nature, and each other.
He read incessantly. Among the influences he listed: “folk songs, rhyming games, early Elizabethan lyricists, Walt Whitman, e.e. cummings, Wallace Stevens, Hopkins, Morgenstein…. Yes, Dylan Thomas too, and Edith Sitwell. And Auden.”
Among the poetic concepts he played with: High Kukus (aphoristic storytelling haiku), Godbody (the divine body), and the Divine Androgyne. His poetry ranges from silly, philosophical, to erotic, and spiritual. We break his poetry down into eight types of categories here. All of James’ poetry can be found in his many books. You’ll find snippets and whole Broughton poems on our BIG JOY Pinterest page.
In addition to what’s below, we put lots of James’ poems on our blog.
Or search our site for “poetry” “poem” or “poems.”
Sample and Savor some of Broughton’s celebrated poems
Big Joy Kyrie
Big Joy have mercy upon us
Deliver us from dread
from fret funk and glum
scowl sneer and fidget
Big Joy have pity upon us
Deliver us from droop
from flinch fuss and squirm
sham shame and dither
Big Joy shed grace upon us
Deliver us from daunt
from whine whimper and pout
chafe vex and blooper
O Big Joy rescue us
from the petty the inane
the vacuous the mediocre
and the triumphantly stupid
Song of the Bed
O everything important in life
occurs upon a bed.
It’s where you cry when you are born
and where you lie when dead.
You spend a third of your life in bed
with sickness, sex and sleeping.
You can have a good laugh with your love in bed
though it’s also used for weeping.
In a bed the most fantastic things
are hoped for and conceived.
It’s where you dream, it¹s where you scheme,
and where you are deceived.
It’s where on earth you come to birth
and most of childhood spend.
It’s where you come and where you don’t
and where you come to an end.
Shaman Psalm [excerpt]
Come forth unabashed
Come out unbuttoned
Bury belligerence
Resurrect frolic
Only through body can
you clasp the divine
Only through body can
you dance with the god
In every man’s hand
the gift of compassion
In every man’s hand
the beloved connection
Trust one another
or drown
High Kukus
I have no desire to move about,
said the Tree,
I’m very attached to my roots
They keep cutting me off,
said the Whisker,
but that will never stop me.
Anyway you look at it,
said the Camera,
this is the way it is.
There’s nothing I like better,
said the Sun,
than throwing some light on the subject.
That’s just your opinion,
said the Pterodactyl,
I think I’m gorgeous.
Always Ever and Only
When the right thing comes along from two directions
and runs into itself in some improbable place
the collision can shatter mere dreams of affection
with the head-on reality of a bangup embrace.
Love is the always that life is made of
Love is the always hope of love
Though fancy may toy with a reckless pursuit
of dazzling encounters in faraway weather
there is no delight elsewhere that can substitute
for the everyday squeeze of here and together.
Love is the ever that life is made of
Love is the ever home of love
From summer to summer with kingsize caress
renewals grow sweeter than beds of whipped cream
so reaffirm firmly what began with a Yes
and praise the right thing that improved on the dream.
Love is the only that life is made of
Love is the only cure for love.
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 #2
This is It
This is really It.
This is all there is.
And it’s perfect as It is.
There is nowhere to go
but Here.
There is nothing here
but Now.
There is nothing now
but This.
And this is It.
This is really It.
This is all there is.
And It’s perfect as It is.
Autobiography
I took a sharp look
I took a long prowl
I questioned the serpent
I questioned the owl
I called up the mayor
I called on the sage
I tried reading Proust
I tried life on the stage
I went into therapy
I went out for sports
I suffered every ailment
from sniffles to warts
I went to the dogs
I went to the Pope
I climbed Annapurna
I fasted on dope
I dug up the desert
I delved in the sea
But nowhere I looked
could I recognize me
So eventually I
had to give up my plan
of escape to Siam
and accept myself here
just as I am
But it wasn’t easy
Thinking about Death
How often do you think about Death?
Death thinks about you all the time
Death is fatally in love with you and me
and his lust is known to be relentless
Life is an equally persistent lover
He was desiring each of us before we were born
I try to remain faithful to him but I know
the relationship can’t go on forever
Life relishes my body heat my heartbeating
my blood my semen even my steamy notions
Death cherishes what is cool and mysterious in me
all that is shadowy and perverse like him
I like to think of Death awaiting our rendezvous
in a candlelit corner of an intimate café
where he will regale me with scandalous tales
of misbehavior in other worlds
Yet in the end it is Life that wears us out
At that crosswalk what will the traffic bear?
Shouldn’t we think about Death more often?
Death is thinking about us all the time
I Heard in the Shell
I heard in the shell
all the hymns of hell,
I heard all the angels crying,
I heard the earth
in pangs of birth
and all the galaxies dying.
I heard in the shell
the resounding well
of all humanity’s voices,
I heard every shout
of laughter and doubt
in the crashing war of choices.
I heard in the shell
the throb of each cell
from flower and rock and feather.
But loudest of all
rang the quiet call
of Yes and No singing together.
Dance of the Godbody
I saw the Rhythm of the World rise out of the sea
I saw the waves roll back the sands overturn
the breathing of the tides become a swimmer dancing
I saw the Godbody come ashore at the western sea
I had gone to the ocean in despair of the earth
despairing of the men who rule and set the rules
men afraid to trust afraid to caress
but quick to abuse condemn and slaughter
Then I saw the Swimming Dancer hurdle up the beach
rippling the world in the wind of his motion
The cliff the tree the cloud the mountain
everything pulsed with the flow of his running
As I ran to catch up with him
I bumped headon into a giggling multitude
clods drones stumbling generations
all humanity fidgeting blindly in his train
On your toes! he cried Keep in step with the cosmos!
You are all performers in the ballet of everything
and I am your choreographer for whatever move happens
I am everyone’s dancing master till the end of tempo!
When he had vanished into the weather of the world
I knew then and forever how hubbubs can harmonize
At the edge of the world I met the Invisible Maestro
and the music of his dance keeps singing in my days
Once Upon
In the arms of the lover I
lie in eternity
clutching the secret of holy excess
Joy in the here is
my chief engineer
over and unto and once upon Yes
Joy in the here is the
nature of nature
touching the habit of daily caress
In the arms of the lover I
leap in eternity
over and onto and once again Yes