Hey, check it out! new place for allll of my writing. I know you’re all on the edge of your seats.
snap shot
instead of photos on the living room wall
we hung only mirrors. It’s been easier
to tell a story about “that one time,”
everyone comes and goes
catching peripheral vision
no ugly duckling stories
everyone calls themselves
Homer, undisputed, leads
each other, rebuilding
upon each other, at each
meeting but self-gazing
we’d be lost waiting
to see the scrapbook page
unfold.
go ask alice
the mirror looks at me
dead on
doesn’t flinch
a ripple in time
i
looking through
to the other side
topsy turvy
just right
Train Passing
the train somewhere out my window
it keeps going it keeps going it keeps going
I jumped off last stop but
it keeps going it keeps going it keeps going
while I shuffle papers and comb out lice
it keeps going it keeps going it keeps going
and I wipe a dirty snot nose
it keeps going it keeps going it keeps going
and I’m too tired to sleep. but still somewhere outside my window
it keeps going it keeps going it keeps going
keeps me awake and taunts me as
it keeps going it keeps going it keeps going
september 9, 2009
thirsty rain
the rivers have grown dry without you!
the summer has passed by without you!
the parched ground has grown accustomed
to making do without you!
so when you came greedily pouring yourself
into the crevices and crannies
we were ashamed that you had your way with us
that we had gone this long
and still wanted you back
children
why is it so much work to simplify
the strands of thought that have taken years to
build up. plaque over my meaning.
the gums have grown up around
the skuzzy mess of maturation
and learned lessons so that my words
come out garbled, jumpy with over-thought
thoughts
Greenhouse
I cannot say
the wind moves me
nor do I reach my roots
to any great depth
I only soak up
what is fed to me
in tabulet, a formula
just what I need to
grow
a specimen, perfect
size, shape, shade,
potted and neat,
indoors apart
but this is tornado country
it will not last long
I will be uprooted
replanted
where I belong.
July 4, 2009
I.
to be independent you said
to cut and run,
where you get yourself lost
in the wide wide sky
where the road signs are question marks,
the odometer over
blank faces
with illegible names,
still you speed by
II.
you made it to town
and got yourself a racket
a room in a house
a few pennies to your name
a new pair of shoes
a few familiar faces
but last night you looked up
to the wide open sky
III.
you’ve heard of the hill country
where the purple and oscuro overhead
wraps you in a homemade tortilla,
by the most expert enchilada roller this side of the Rio Grande,
snuggled in tight, cuéntame –
tell me of anything,
from far and wide
a lullaby from the starry open sky
Castles in the Air
foundation in projections on
the living room wall – overgrown
fauna and grown-out hair,
fitted blue jeans perched
on fitted stone steps, climbing
upwards to the same stars
mapped before the European
invasion to predict the
ceremonious rites passed
father to son.
built from buses crowded
with paisanos they dance
like sugar plums and coca
leaves. I add another
pebble to the stacks another
loose leaf page another
postcards home. another quest
yet unfinished, broke, volvé,
excavating further south,
the precipice left, passed
father to son.
[…] clarity… and with the intent to encourage myself to write more, i’ve added a new page, poetry. and to those of you who promised to share their poetry with me, i expect a post with a link, a […]
I will never know completely about Chinese poetry. I am like a first-grader who just learned to read when I ingest some Han Shan or Wang Wei. My favorite is Han Shan’s
number eight in a Cold Mountain series. Here is a translation by Gary Snyder (hell of a poet in his own right):
Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,
The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:
The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,
The wide creek, the mist blurred grass.
The moss is slippery, though there’s been no rain
The pine sings, but there’s no wind.
Who can leap the word’s ties
And sit with me among the white clouds?
Here are a few web sites for looking at some of the more famous Chinese poets of yesteryear:
http://www.chinese-poems.com/index.html
http://etext.virginia.edu/chinese/frame.htm
I am still stewing over a blockage in my creative word-thoughts. Hopefully this will be undone and I may disgorge the wild current of words building behind this logjam in my head. Sometimes reading others’ work helps lift the gate and then I am free again. Thanks for your blog.
Unc Mugs
[…] and a happy fourth from me. […]