Sunday, August 13, 2017

Awoke from morning dream -

you, dead, wouldn't forgive.

Holding

me

I tried to untie us, cried.

Stress -

I have days of it, and doubt.

Change

places -

you

puts
you
here.


It's not true,
you.

It's morning -

me,

only this.


Saturday, August 12, 2017

the life of a single day is better....
8.110 dhammapada

waning gibbous



In the parking lot, among hard coal,
stones.

I find fossils
from the sea -
a folded fish,
shell,
krill-like diminutives in broken red chert.

Stone for stone
life's
long dead,
stored,
anonymous.
We
too
will
give
bone,
blood,
flood soil,
make mountains
or,
drifting to sea edge,
enter in.
Shell, us, we, stone,
once, then again,
when we end.
All cycled
selves
forgotten -
so many!

To be rock
isn't
imagined
or
immortal.

How can stone,
beyond memory,
be lonely?
There's no
without,
wanting,
wishing
or waiting.

You'll forget this,
but I'll say it.

We are mud
on loan,
all demi-stones.





Thursday, August 10, 2017

습기찬 (seubgichan)

When you
under
trout
running
inside
the
water
remember him
you're (yr)
eyes
not welling
but


this.

Moist.

night sound


A
snuffling snort
in the weed pile
as possum,
trundling,
stumbles upon
.........
and eats.