Monday, December 19, 2011

Birch - ├śrestad

birch

tells

longing never ends

as they
cut down

grow again




northern migration

in southern latitudes true
most do
but here
it's queer I think
that warm things stay

some come
and
go
Thule
another colder Roanoke
meadows in Newfoundland
choked stones
alone
lost
ships
teapots
minds
men
Inuit
again

or fleeing
war
start new lives
languages
sound


i will not die north
see dark hunter and crosses?
tell me
why i rise
when i flow warm?



hand accident
taught mistakes of connection

in dark Denmark
there was cold rain
and bad air
bad to the bone
drove home the koan*

this hand
anger
fear
violence
from within

lacked compassion
forgave

and lit the flame



 * No Loving-Kindness


There was an old woman in China who had supported a monk for over twenty years. 
She had built a little hut for him and fed him while he was meditating. Finally she 
wondered just what progress he had made in all this time. To find out, she obtained 
the help of a girl rich in desire. "Go and embrace him," she told her, "and then ask 
him suddenly: 'What now?'" The girl called upon the monk and without much ado  
caressed him, asking him what he was going to do about it. "An old tree grows on a 
cold rock in winter," replied the monk somewhat poetically. "Nowhere is there any warmth."

The girl returned and related what he had said.
"To think I fed that fellow for twenty years!" exclaimed the old woman in anger. 
"He showed no consideration for your needs, no disposition to explain your condition. 
He need not have responded to passion, but at least he should have evidenced some 
compassion."

She at once went to the hut of the monk and burned it down.

http://www.ashidakim.com/zenkoans/6noloving-kindness.html 

Friday, December 16, 2011

korsgarde

thought of those funeral trees at night
and Guo Xi's black water

but even in the rain

maroon flowers

under the door
Skagen blue

Whistler too
out the window

this ghetto which is
barrio
not favela
not here
but always
over there




Sunday, November 27, 2011

gap

g                    a                                p              










g                   a                                                    p

i was just commenting

you make a lot of postscripts
something wrong with that?
just
commenting,
bullethead.
say,
make a poem
about
people
lining up
to register
as homosexuals
in Europe,
or
how Americans are
lazy and self-satisfied
not industrious
not lining up to
register
as anything.
it's not fair for them to be writing
registrations while
I
sit
here
with
nothing
to do.

just commenting.

last night of the holiday

maybe
read a long short story
started months ago
or
watch
a movie
if we can agree on one
what
are
you
going
to
do?

Saturday, November 19, 2011

a sick man and a river

What can the river say
it's old
a "blue mist" river.
Before he dies,
no misery, says he
recall a river.
What he was has washed away -
soft down now where thicket grew -
His piss flows
clear jade green, a summer color
from warm clay pools round the groin
(where tall grass to wood stood),  sways
now soft algal down in
late night sweats.

no regrets

rocking smooth
soothe fear

this man

was copper country
where skin and metal
met water once
in him
as rock
not smooth but tough
all quckened sex and bones and blood
true
his body now  

bruises black into blue.

A flood
up north!

midwest
in his chest
a storm
he remembers lakes,
and his sister as true mother,

remembers

dark warm springs and ice,
other seas of excitement and exploration
of drifting remnants and edges
of stones and water
before this rift between his body and desire


still

you see his body soft now with drugs and cancer
there's a hole in his temple, an empty pond
he washes every night 



still

he can hear the water of him in it
in pond and bone
cancer
as he's flowing downriver

as all do

when is the end?

each day's accumulation of down and slip
of other special flowing, piss and blood and bile

finally this smooth blue mile
will become him

and black and algal too
and then

for an hour
or a day


he will sluice
memories and a dream

to rise and fall

loose

forever

his moist body

into a river




two constancies

as all
we must be more

I

he and she
olding together
make glass
in blue and yellow
lucky fellow, he
to have his she

II

our
marriage
in dischord
in friendship
tried
as I did
to love you

III

they meet us
and we  them
us or them
are we less?

no

each in and through the other
opens

and makes possible

another

life




november 13

no story

left off here as

Dad would have

if he were

but he isn't

is he

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Saturday, November 12, 2011

november river

saw
pawpaw
when a child
in old bark wood
zoned south of here
near
water
boxelder
currant
sugar-rich red

Guo Xi said
"autumn water blue and winter's black".

sumac
sassafras

chew the root in clear skies

watch bare bough bring

first snow

full moon

soon

black water




reading robert grenier

you look long and deeply at
what cannot be predicted
the owl
the beach
how many sunny days
remain connected
as you do
with
what is not you
in this translation
you consider
the
uncertainty -

thirteen?

even better


Sunday, October 23, 2011

brazilian

in this dream
i call you in nepal
from california.

in my dream california
shops
rise in tiers,
cedarwood shanties
tilting artfully.
artificial everywhere.
i call you
to stay my sanity
but
i had forgotten nepal
and your journey
through the monasteries.
i call
and drop the phone
pick up to hear
HELLO
and then
a soft reassurance
to someone beside you.
embarrassed,
i apologise and hang up.

the phone begins to blink.


a single lit word.

in blue.

"brazilian"

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Bosporus

from the window I cannot see
you tell of the river running through the city
and here?
pixilated
a
square moon

reminds me of voices
and interesting books

of a rose colored spider's skin
red eyes
worms
a soft
white rabbit

tell me why
some are asleep while
others
are awake

under a square moon
a river



Sunday, September 25, 2011

without painting

nothing makes sense without it

"holding this brush
against a stranger's wall
reminds me of who I am"

a painter

what does the keyboard think
of paint?

every week empties
strategy of all work these days

but you have another plan
to sit or stand before a river inside
and paint it

a painter








Friday, September 23, 2011

week's end

at week's end
tired
sick
alert

how to classify

fear of speaking publicly
unengaged and sleeping
use of prohibited devices

home
phone
aware

how to integrate

nephew's infected leg
a husband's two-faced heart
the rise and ebb of vanity

 at week's end



Sunday, September 18, 2011

pictures from Canada

it's a
limp
magical
relic

next to
narrative

mountain water in the corner
by the long green view
out above the

chest
best left empty

one
flooded trees
continents awash
watching lights
ascend
sink
blink

two
the torso
of a young man
without genitals

three
he
is
raven haired
same-lipped
youth
eyes
see
me

and there behind you
the wooden
tabernacle
that
toothed
fired and
thawed
feeds you forward


Samuel Johnson

"That we must all die, we always knew; I wish I had remembered it sooner."
                                              - Johnson: Letter to Sir Joshua Reynolds




born this day in 1709

said to be the last
great autodidact

lexicographer
word stalker
author

his definitions delightful
his table manners atrocious

no oranges in the trees for him
but bleak Highland oats
and thistled wit

he regretted his mistakes
bravely continued to make them
humbled not cowed
spoke too much aloud

married
him young to her
found compulsive sound
years later
old wife's death

his tongue undone

love
whittled him

shaved down to widower
and stroke
he
left life
cold

old man

wished he'd remembered
sooner








Saturday, September 17, 2011

everyone wishes

everyone wishes

for happiness
love
a good job
a smart child
chocolate
graceful aging
swift end
a mourned passing
remembrance
remembrance


some  thread of
legacy


a few decades
of flowers graveside

a saved photo

an inherited eye color
or nose slope

but not
the anger or flawed
profession
the savage remark
the slap

everyone wishes

for the thing which enobles
hides
excludes
the raw excursion
that it really is

this
this
this is
this is not what

everyone wishes




espero un poco

mi felicitad
dependamente

¿que?
¿que?

¿Cuando es?

Mio Dio
Mi Viva
mi
mi
alma profundo

llorando

llorando

llorando

Thursday, September 8, 2011

yangjae



picture this

dusky thank you in Inupiak
light in Irish
cornea Dansk
soul in Spanish
Mandarin sour or Muslim
Korean sweet teacher
cold lion Arabic
or bear?
Korean bear man

a tree a bough a breeze

movement trips a switch

lights up
language
landscape


painted participle

the name for
how many

where I am
where you are


picture

this

not enough

time to paint
paint enough
money to travel
travel enough
energy to exercise
energy enough
never is not is
enough
no to yourself

yourself enough

what stops them
themselves
they are not enough

if it's not deep enough
dig deep enough

not as if

time money energy
never is
as never does
and
never is

not enough
is not


enough
enough.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

admit

aplomb?
no assurance of
absolutes
that is
one is left to
admit
doubt
what has been done
to admit that

Monday, September 5, 2011

walk

first
wind
furled grey
last green
sky
sky
blue
cloud white
cloud grey
pink light
two hours sleep
it all falls down
to this
sunblind dusk
black leaves
halflit moon
cool skies indigo
glow
know
less
endless less
walk
home

Sunday, September 4, 2011

time management

if it is
then
will
it be
see
how
one follows
still
one
one
zed
led
in
in
without
stopping
release
that you
into the work
again

live
live
in
and
breathing
breathing
stake your
awakening
upon it.

braird

braird
bairn
both
sprouting
from
pursed lips
above
ground
round
appear
to me,
childless,
promising

geese

cries south
flies
flies
river
river
cloud
filled field
of vision

66 degrees

autumn moon
first quarter

my own misdirection
(memory)
does more harm
than
a sudden drop in temperature
(prescience)


Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Eid

darkening garden skies
moon too soon
an error
of
eyelight

enlighten
abstain
purify

fast
feast

too fast

give

metaphrase


active
irregular

transposition

other

other

another


Tuesday, August 30, 2011

askant

mistakes!
seek
weather (changeable)
certainty

prediction
eludes

and so
grammer
falters

longed-for
song?

no.

only
unstrung

one final
lute

mute



Monday, August 29, 2011

Eid

"hunger is the supreme disease"
                                   - Bhikku



lunar days, sunlit, of it

end

6 degrees 14

within

replaced

without

without

without

faith

nothing


old white ears

found your skull

lifted from the spine

gently tabled

among first wormwood and melissa

lost

 it

slipped

rain by rain

into earth






ice water

don't drink ice water

it kills
thought
in women

eat
heat
on  
hot  days

drink tepid

or

loose a lip blister

sip chips
of water?

forfeit
fine hands
in old age





broomstick


in a marriage of impositions
a temporary suppression

surmounted
jumped
over

here

alight!
reverberate!

sweep
all
before
you

Sunday, August 28, 2011

emmigrant

left this
his
exoskeleton
to live
in refugia

resonant tymbalation



dog days

yellow
box
branches

dusty
miller
blues



nonlinear

what forms in consciousness
remains
or
dissipates
indeterminately
indiscriminately

yet

met

with
resolute
requisite

a        w        a        r        e        n        e        s        s


conundrum

you
cannot make me believe
but
I do

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

that is

entering
open
transfer

once again

once again

once

and then

that is


Friday, July 8, 2011

hospitality

thank you
little lizard
last night
you blinked
inquiry

resumed occupations

housekeeper
sentry
hunter
host

your house!

building mother tongue

textual interactivity
that is
hesitation
pauses
repetition
sound
channelled
reborn
into
or for

this mother tongue
seeks spare
but
remembers
um
hmmmm
tch..tch..tch...

which are
bones
numbers
stars

call

his cancer underground, patient
above
nasturtiums
roses
and children
(whose are they?)
in this white sky
reflected in the pool
mullah
calls 108 prayers
made of earth

teaching me to dance

my feet on your feet
once forward, once back,
hop
slide
two
you said
"Little frog, I am your piano - keys sing!"

so much sung
in one step

Monday, June 27, 2011

both

inside
ambidextrous children
river running through

left handed finds left handed
across borders and continents
favors waning moon and
outer pools, unknown

dyslexia
strains her
pure liquid
of another kind

summer in arabia

river, my west
out there
compressed
a wall of air
that wants nothing
is
nothing

memory

brushpile
rustle
dad said
even weeds know
some things
grow
untaught

Saturday, June 18, 2011

one week

one week
link
between

rain
abdullah's eyes
full of rain
beautiful he said
look

green
between
glass and sea

one week
link
see
heat

beautiful?

art

not every
or
each
but
always
always
I teach
to
feed
the language
I
grow

3:31 a.m.

That persistent
first
every new dark day hears it

and I

alone
sleep near
but not
nearly
inviting
as
this

song

one bird
two
one gull
flew
and
small choral
refrain

and I

reply

Sunday, June 12, 2011

cold june

weather
has not improved
desert students wear autumn and imagine north

hostas
an old cold
planted six today
in the black earth

water dark
and skies, skies wide
and rain, rain blurred


water
and  a wind
which
does not surrender
cold, cold

is this lily before rose?

is this late or without?

within
within
slow unfold
nasturtium
magenta-veined
lidless
blue-lipped
flora

Sunday, May 22, 2011

directions

1
In Kalipha Street
look for landmarks
or the
Gulf
between us
the color of water

2
In Greek
shadow tail
your bones
among the hosta
and galium
curved spine
ribcage as slender as a web thread
femur in fetal forever
your small long skull facing north
your children pushed you out
I remember your ears
your eyes slowly
rising
up

3
river
that is, moving
first pear white
then plum pink
a traveling fugue

history

Ganesh
broke his tusk
as he wrote it

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

full moon

low in sky
couldn't buy sleep
but
not
you

flood

water

walks

with

the explorer
the mapmaker

within

the mind
an inundation

sudden environmental flux
it's the catastrophe of consciousness


being in the world is
incomprehensibly
destructively
regenerative

so after the flood 
come apparitions

history  
thought
substance
that were tenable

now deluged, drift

submerged
amphibious

fluvial shadows
of former clarity.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

river

mok-tak
it's 4:30 am
cold spring
flood warning

20, an invisible either, 28
8 evenly so, lost, undammed, sluiced
10 evenly so, found copper, algal pellet
piel y cosas
10 8 (Jogye Chogye) refuge
stretched, stretched out along the earthern face
10  8 even evidently brought sought here
in recent decades
tangled in suffering exhausted

mok-tak
wake up!

dolomite dolorosa
piel y agua

700 to 1200 AD
that is
mounds of earthairwater
that is
tantric flowering
color
sound
visualized deities
mantras
feasting
this body
this life
feminine
fluid
facing downstream
mesic edged
fulgent

mok-tak
Immeasurable life!
we call you 10 times
and 10 times again

narrow channelled
cooler water
kingfisher blue
rose-stippled clarity
current
croaking
blackbird spillage
home

Mok-tak
remain with us always

repeat
cleanse reminder
of what runs through runs within
and remains
the same
and returns
fluvia
cloud
melt
spit
slip
float

free

Monday, May 9, 2011

may

warms up the earth
brings high bright skies
you receive good news
I grow
be
be
be

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Lights in the Distance

Book One
1
Guarantee
The movement in this has been subjected to exhaustive tests and
is guaranteed original.
Valid only if purchased from author.
2
It is essential that the owner’s personal daily activities
assure the best timekeeping. After you have yourself a decade, take 
necessary timing adjustments. Then observe yourself carefully for the
next decades and readjust your tempo of life. You thus 
become an indispensable part of life, a
friend to treasure over the years.
3
Why you can be proud of you
We all like to feel proud of our personal possessions. You can be very proud of you. You quite naturally wish to know why.
Your Wit was made and is guaranteed by the world maker to be of the highest
character. Of course there are qualities which make  (copyright 1957) you, you.
4
An accurate timekeeper depends primarily on quality, which is built into movement.
Examining movement, note a hundred and one superiorities of construction. Timekeeping is not due to a special feature here and another there but to the care and detail extended to each and every last detail of movement.
We might mention you
5
today - beautiful, 
strong, and made fit by movement.

But of course what will most please and impress you is
accuracy, dependability.
Given proper care you will last you, to your
pride and satisfaction, for many, many years.
6
Why proper adjustment may be necessary.
When you actually become a part of your body - moving as you move. flying as it were, with every motion of your arm,
it becomes necessary to change the standard timing to conform to your habits. So, observe your performance. Take yourself in
7
for adjustment. Remember that your wishes run perfectly if you return several times for adjustment.
8
Do You Want Good Service? Then Take Care Of You.
Any delicate mechanism is true. If it were not true you could not keep time. Some blame
when only they themselves are at fault. You, of course, are not among such
careless and unworthy owners, and will welcome a few suggestions that will help you.
9
Do not drop you.
You can’t drop you without the chance of doing damage
Do get wet.
Submerge yourself often in water, perspire freely, but remember not to rust.
If broken, cracked, or even chipped, replace at once.
These conditions should not be ignored.
10
Never open a tiny speck of dust.
Do not wear  a drawer or bag with face powder.
Watch yourself, observe and acquire moments of introspection fully and regularly, preferably in the morning at the same hour.
These few basic rules are simple and universal.
11
Why you must be cleaned.
You know what would happen if you didn’t change the oil in your car at regular intervals.
Now being a small and delicate mechanism you are just as important
as that small body of time,
the minute.
12
Avoid risk at least once a year.
Protect you.
13
Be Sure Of You.
If your needs need replacing use only genuine parts.
Finally,

enjoy the you that, given proper service and reasonable care, will give you years of service!


Lights in the Distance
Book Two
(to be read right to left or left to right, up or down, forward or back)
1 37
a story yet to be
2 36
written and done or still
3 35
there is a star in us all
4 34
waiting for an eye to see it
5 33
watch how you gaze
6 32
don’t fear silence or spills
7 31
don’t fear what is here
8 30
don’t wish for all the tea in China
9 29
drink your fill of clean water
10 28
lost in words -  in loss
11 27
we recover our senses in this life
12 26
There is no reason to expect what isn’t
or what is going to happen
13 25
is there?
14 24
light is so many darks 
is
infinite
is, is
15 23
there is no formula for happiness
16 22
carve out a niche
a channel
a cove
17 21
illum... 
an unintellig...
wor...
is
18 20
light came from the horizon I knew
19 19
the direction was up
20 18
eyes dim as the illness progresses
21 17
death is not an illness
22 16
terminus
that mysterious illuminata that
23 15
survivor of myth
24 14
my daughter my son
and their children’s children
have eyes
25 13
what will they see?
26 12
thirty-four generations ago
you placed a mirror
27 11
in my grave
and it’s still there
28 10
shooting stars 
showers  
twenty-eight celestial combinations
29 9
even the first lens was lit here by
30 8
distance?
which is 
forward
backward
an illusion
31 7
evolving around a sun
32 6
in the distance?
surely you see
33 5
lights aren't clocks
but age
34 4
age ago
and again
and afterward
often all at once
35 3
you
too
you too!
36 2
read
forward
backward
up and down
37 1
follow the heavens

world

ghost of chickadee
in tree
dead squirrel's tail
a thin line of bone
stones
found in ground
a tiger's eye or
clay ear of wolf
here
cold
an old
river
trout
among corn rows
this
month's
north reality

birch trees under water
are
broken
old  uncles
their souls
teach us
suffering and grace

see?

we alone will never be enough
for this world

Monday, May 2, 2011

Monday, April 25, 2011

river

loneliness

consciousness separates every entity

wet souls

Inert words,
golden light,
fire
leaves black, white.
This morning near me matters.
We are forever an occupied building,
roofless, raining indoors.
From above, a skirt in rags falls
with impossible
slowness.
It could be mine.
But is it?
Where is the proof in this
damp glistening
that I exist?

painting

chronicling poetic sequence
involves water
to understand life in an image
we may
follow the water
to
experience life in the image
we must
follow the water

Friday, April 22, 2011

Around 9.000 souls here,
close to the lake.
Small cities give the illusion
of  shut grey
but they are remarkable tenements
density disguised by lawn containment
and wide streets. 

It may be possible here to hide time,
 or interrupt the death of a dog.
It may be possible here to
 believe  
 ignore 
 dream
 wait
 safely.

Closed.
Clustered invisibility.

saint francis

Saint Francis is
modest,
low-storied, quiet.
Yesterday
Tony and I went to Dreschkas,
a dimly lit department store,
half asleep
and open erratically.
We parked and as we walked
in the furious hail and rain,
so cold for April,
a small ginger terrier ran past us into the street and was nearly hit.
Calling she came to me,
scooped her into my arms,
(she shivered so)
took her to the "Paws" groomer.
A large tattooed blonde
expertly gauged her puppy age
cooed and fed her a treat.
Mrs. Dreschka thanked us
for caring for the dog as she closed the store
("come another time")
because of the awful weather.

Later a heavy young woman
stunned by cold or heart or drugs
claimed our castaway
took her home
under an arm
one slow shuffling step after another.
(last I saw
her ginger tail
fiercely
hopefully
wagging)

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

las cosas

ries y llora
una broma
griterio

y tambien

un silencio enorme

esta mano

bajo poesia

en amor

con

una sonrisa mysteriosa

Saturday, April 16, 2011

rooms

A dream
finds a way to do something to you.

In this episode you are an apartment.
Wallpaper covers past mistakes.
Colors here mean to enlighten and hope
influence health,
provoke interest
in your current situation. 
Your rooms,

intimate or infinite
cannot clearly be sensed.
This is an invitation
to create,

to imagine best and worst scenarios

express

shadows

illuminations.

What rooms

could be
if what was
represented 
was truly within?