naked bicyclists ride past
we have no agreement to meet
but we do
wandering into lit rooms
she pauses staring,
starting when I'm startled but
she never runs. Turning and walking away
she's resigned to my presence.
I've become part of her
search for food.
I like this mouse
and cannot fault her for
She arrived just in time
for my final days in this home,
around the time my anxiety was highest,
waiting for a visa.
I think of her as a companion,
as we both are
to sustain us.
as the goat's beard,
At phlox feet,
Learning that the
New England aster,
pin cherry's brutal death
earlier this year.
heart set on
rigida and canadensis
as an autumnal
the cooling night
I passed a dilapidated Victorian, grime-smeared, sprayed with graffiti.
The street level shop windows were boarded, the upper windows broken. I approached the building and touched it lightly. The entire building crumbled into a fine and beautiful dust.
Trees, growing in dirt squares surrounded by sidewalk, began to snicker.
Mozart's Ah Tutti Contenti
from the Marriage of Figaro,
A pond appeared
where turtles sung.
What would you have thought
of a still damp drawing of a pregnant mare?
Lifting your eyes, as I did,
would you have felt
a shiver of recognition, a sudden nearness
to that long-dead artist?
Would you have left Rouffignac
with that graceful image
embedded in your bones?
This is for you, my dear
who in that year
could have filled your
umeployment forms out
in ancient greek
or very poetic French.
It was frustrating to watch you
write letter after letter
when you had enough work
(filled the rest of your days).
What really were you after
but a little money to get by on?
You told me then, and I hear you now, say the future has no hold on us,
we're too close to the present, and we gain nothing from desire,
however enticing, without this god damn struggle just to stay alive,
of chicory, and a vision
snow blown from a tree
fruit blossoms falling
it's a cherry tree, too
near a dark lake
deer have eaten
all the hyacinth -
their spring asparagus
over a foot high
are eating suet
an arm's length away
I am able to see tiny creatures
feeding on my skin
lit by thousands
of tiny abdomens
Dad had his operation last night. The doctors found tumors in his colon, lesions in his
large and small intestines, skin tumors, bone cancer. His body's crumbling. The cancers will reach a large organ, the brain, in months not years.
We send flowers with sweet smelling lilies. Mary and Maureen cry a lot. Paula thank god she's so damn efficient and fair, clear thinking.
Dad did it. He lived long enough to take care of mother.
Hope Dad lives to see spring, Paula says.
Dad's in very recent chemo
may give him unhoped-for months
Mare and maureen there
and Mom comes home
lots of busy
wears mom and dad out
a good thing
a long straight sleep rare for them these days
have we done enough?
as many answers as family
but I suspect
always in the negative
cannot be otherwise
living through dying is full of surprises
warm spring smell
trees prickly with roundthorned buds
we've overwintered another year here
today we walk to the river
downy woodpecker, nuthatches, geese
and lovesick gulls
I know we
are formed first by love -
his patience, suffering
shuts me up
a lucky woman
to have such a graceful partner
it is not forever
pour place pathos pursuit plague
die ewige Wiederkehr (des Gleichen) [Nietzsche]
the endless return of the same
ataraxia - a state of serene (inner) calmness [Epictitus]
καταστηματικός - (katastēmatikós)
The term 'ataraxia' is used in Epicurean philosophy to refer to a type of katastematic pleasure that is engendered by a complete freedom from mental disturbances and worries.
the pleasure of equilibrium and balance
ancient thought on conservation or matter [Epicurus. Lucretius]
"seeds" generate things, things are composed of invisibly small particles which
seemed to argue against Zeno's paradox that "you cannot deconstruct anything
beyond a certain point"
the rule of logic stating that if a conditional statement (“if p then q ”) is accepted, and the consequent does not hold ( not-q ), then the negation of the antecedent ( not-p ) can be inferred.
if P, then Q, But not -Q, therefore not -P
are the number of atomic shapes infinite?
There is no reason to fear what isn't
or what is going to happen
light is so many darks
there is no formula for happiness
carving out a niche
light came from the horizon I knew
the direction was up
eyes dim as the illness progresses
death is not an illness
that mysterious illuminata that
survivor of myth
my daughter my son
and their children's children
what will they see?
thirty-four generations ago
you placed a mirror
in my grave
and it's still there
shooting stars showers and
even the first lens was lit here
evolving around a fiery star
in the distance?
surely you see
lights don't clock
often all at once
35 3 you
up and down
direct your gaze to the stars
to remember: the idea of place:
the twilight landscape w/ dreams/ experiences
I think my heart is in the art of painting "lies',
in mingling myths and real events with
the sky and the land.
Stars as moving spirits in the sky,
Ingrid Washinawatoc's red sign
in the sky, twins the fog over
the wall, the white blurred sun in the sky.
You must keep the painting fresh,
learn the way to stow and return, start fresh
each thing. many moments paintings
seem to have lives of their own.
sometimes you need the cool greenness of this land
as surely as you need bread and water. you need to
hear the land, no matter the muffling it takes in a city park.
sometimes I want to cry out loud, curse my foggy brain.
I've tried too hard to fit in, not take life seriously,
but life is a beautiful, serious to me. I want to
live awake, not in this dulled state where true things slip
slowly and quietly away. There is a fencing feeling.a pent up sorrow
for lost things too early, far too early in life. What good is health
if your heart is not in living?
Have to pray a long, long way to hear my voice clear again.
THE FIRES OF BELTANE - green, purple, red in the night sky
BADLANDS - S. Dak. fossils of 3-toed horses, saber-toothed cats, a type of camel no larger than a dog
in a land now sparsely populated by rock wrens and coyotes.
To the Yuki (N. Cal tribe), the creator was Taikómol, the solitude walker
The Plains view of the buffalo reminds me of Aaron and Moses and the Mt. of God.
I feel as if was caught up in a tangled net, the sum of my mixed emotions for those I loved.
green things making food by eating the sun
Seek a philosophy that grows out of the lives of......
things to remember:
the small orange butterfly in the green, green grass
sound of raking leaves
3:00 and fog is coming in, greying (above).
The lower things still very bright and clear.
- yellow light, clear blue sky, earlier 2 kinds of cloud
- saw a striped cat in the middle of Laguna Honda lawn
pounce on s/t unseen.
- remembrance and the eye - vision w/ spirit
3 - a sphere the wind a wave
Q: Does this recurrent preoccupation w/ a
spiritual significance in nos. bespeak
my Catholic background? Or is it
s/t found in most religions, a basic desire
to join 2 disparate mental processes?
the trees remember
1 LUX: "light in itself"
motion and inner earth energy =
"minerals" (genes) + "seeds" of life
2 LUMEN: "light that travels through
space, borne by a transparent medium"
3 COLOR + 4 SPLENDOR: c = "light
of terrestial bodies", s = "luminous bodies"
both reflective light
idea of "deeper significance in ordinary things...AN
INDEFINITE FEELING WHICH MAY BE CALLED UP
AT ANY MOMENT."
VIDEMUS NUNC PER SPECULUM IN AENIGMATE, TUNC AUTEM FACIE
We see through a glass darkly, but then face to the face.
theophany - a visible manifestation to humankind of God or a god
hylomorphism - the doctrine that physical objects result from the combination of matter and form.
undated 1987, 1988
My dad, he wanted to sing beautiful songs for a living, he wanted to dream.
Instead he helped Grandpa, a mean man, and often groaned in his sleep.
Why so hard to follow your calling and still love your family?
My friend Julie used to drive out to meadows and run naked, alone, through them.
I used to think it mad but now no more mad than seeking special hills
or seeing a bird in a man, as other friends do. We each need to plant our peace
in a part of the land, a reassurance of our mutual wonder and respect.
There is a kind of resistance, a wrestling that thanklessly conspires
to create you in a different way.
Last night (beach)
early eve - 121.88 (1.22.88)
exceptional mils weather,
warm, lite wind. (sand bar)
Twilight. clds [clouds], rooftop
reflected in dark pool, trees
light coming out of the darkeness - an idea of "touch"
(please touch) of an art that reaches yet remains at rest
(solitude) quietly accessible, truthful.
Language of the interior (the eye) is moved by thought,
thought is the form of thing removed from sight
This is a way to cull s/t essential in painting.
This is a partial path. Always the sense of the nature
of the object remains, reminding the painter of her role.
in them, traces of exhilaration,
movements betraying their glacial origin.
Standing stones, human-laid, are also
marked by arrested movement.
The "stillness" of stone:
a kind of necessary touch,
we humans need to place things w/in
the impermanence that surrounds us.
November 17 1996
what she wishes for is a prayer
that hasn not lost its power to
consume the spiritin god's fire-
she longs for the separation to end
but realizes the futility of her dream.
I had a dream last night.
Looking down and across a white-capped sea, I saw a pod of whales
ALL OF A DIFFERENCE
belugas, great blue, barnacled, humpback,
breaching, spouting, singing.
Today I saw a stuccoed wall that appeared to show the worn
labor of a thousand handprints.
compassion for all living things
suffering is real and ever-present
(whether or not we are aware of it)
following a course through life that is full and right...
How small I seem when I read the poets and naturalists,
and yet as vital to all as the smallest creature....
Collapsing new buildings
we are inundated
you call out but the waters have stilled your voice
you are between flood and sky, and your world sinks around you
you climb to the highest place,
but nothing will save you from the rising waters
1 Dec 2007
In my darker moments, there is no Holy Family of humanity,
only isolation, injury, insensitivity .
A lover's word, a husband's kiss, does not unite but accents
the loneliness of the soul. It's worse to anticipate,
then one excites one-sided expectations. better to
return to the slow painful practice of disallusion,
better to make the supreme effort to love all but not one better others.
Will detachment surrender to joy?
21 March 2011
bright day, dry
when is being remembered, as dark and light...
it's so many things...
i n t e r f e r e n c e
ghosts dirt memory the body
h o r i z o n s h o r e (s e a)
s h i f t to
b a n k (r i v e r)
g r a s s l e d g e (c u l v e r t)
l i n e s w a v e
d i r e c t i o n o f f l o w
t i l l e d e a r t h
what is this, stilled?
liquid solid air
an exercise in breath
breath: let go, distill
enten glements (arrangements)
d i a m o n d s u t r a
7. 24. 2017
as a child
afraid of the dark
perhaps even blackness
or an extract of blackness
can survive the walls of our rooms
To witness blackness
my be the closest we can come to the preent,
"to a pure limit between the past and the present"
"depth" of the object
the material it is made from becomes secondary
to the image the completed object presents to the eye"
poetry writing contributes to self-discipline...appreciation
of the beauty of nature and life... finally tranquility."
cloth string tobacco prayer -
the great white pine
a canoe of white stone
these trees - oak ash pine fig
5 pure lights
green ash tree - 9 worlds
the fates (Norns) place a rooster each morning atop Yggrasil.
It's bragging wakes humans and gods.
The Norns water Yggrasil daily.
An eagle and a dragon have their emnity enflamed by a
gossiping squirrel (sladder egern)
Lif a man and Liftraser a woman
will hide in the branches of Yggdrasil during Ragnarock.
emerging after to repopulate the world.
Huginn and Munin - will they survive Ragnarock?
what is sun, sky
but the present I sublimated?
Between us and them
a light apparent
(non-binding, not blinding).
Life lived in gratitude isn't absolution.
Warm sun, wind - my graces.
Once wandress (wondrous),
the cypress, the funeral tree's
Altered lives grounded in pilgrimage.
are that char, that chair outside, laid earth, dirt.
Of all dictions, the done one wins,
Bogged in, begin
by loving all who they were.
Sing among western mesas
among dry places.
Shout, we are here
to raze museums!
to praise libraries!
That is where the there is, the theys are also,
the we, youse
I thought of your wax feet
while eating turmeric and cauliflower.
These hollow feet speak
as books, looking earthward,
then when placed upon a wall,
their golden hollows
whisper in mother tongues.
A legacy arrives -
you at 63,
and me, now 63 too.
It's taken 7 years
to draw this circle
and close it, love.
It is not possible to plum words.
is for those told
to "come down a peg",
stay silent, or leave.
Snakes eat strawberries,
shed skin, leave marks.
Abandoned seeds can still grow trees.
Reduced by age and light?
manage to speak.
"While minds create things, things also create minds..." 136
what they left became buried in talcum fine loess., crushed rock dust blown from
advancing glaciers hundreds of kilometers away 146
In 1970, a Japanese robotics researcher named Masahiro Mori posited a complex phenomenon known as the uncanny valley. His basic theory was that we respond positively to a robot as it becomes more human in look but only up to a certain point. And then suddenly, we are strongly repelled by it.
What does it mean to create, become part of, a functional multi-cultural me?
My world is small, with big silences. My world is noisy, a city-dwelling diaspora of people, plants, and animals.
I am not rich. In America, I am poor, more so in money than spirit.
The color of my skin sometimes staves me. There's plenty of pre-judging to go around. "They should have killed you all in the war." Which one? " You're not...." Fill in the blank. " Go home!" Pull apart a genetic history. Where is the singular root place I should return to?
Living together with you, me, are the pieces of us. Just look around. We're fractured, crystallized, beautifully dark, resplendent.
Notes, stanzas, loosed music.
I take up space for better and worse, a source of emissions. Am I soluable? I don't want to be.
Silences. Then the witness sounds of red winged black birds, the robin's reaching into first light, the ever present calls of cardinals, the beating of hearts, the breathing of trees.
How to distinguish a muskrat from a beaver kit swimming in the river - two tales, two bodies in water.
When I was young, I was altered, left my body to survive. I've lived a lifetime of
putting my soul back into this aging flesh. Failure is a part of love.
Above, below, around me, ghosts remain, unreconciled.
How many tales does it take to make us whole again?
I cannot swim well. The love of my life sunk, couldn't float. We flunked a life lesson, needed a boat.
In Wisconsin, the ark is a canoe, I wrote. The boat of both the best and the worst, of those first, and remainders like me, who put to sea, found themselves here, alive, but wounded and wound into others.
I'd like to be on friendlier terms with the sea, that transported multi-cultural me, which extends still, to the horizon, and into families.
Silences can be navigational, hold a boat afloat.
Between quiet, I write notes from the voyage. Record songs.
Threw two glass flutes away.
Drank from them our wedding day.
Engraved on one:
November 5, 1993
And the other:
November 5, 1993
Both mothers were alive then, my father too.
Dad died, then Mom, Inez.
February 4, 2014
Mary lost Damon February 6, 2021.
She got a tattoo on her forearm today,
a rose and heart, her name, his,
the words Always & Forever.
I let it go - glass, silver stemmed,
a lily, my heart, the past.
"For myself I want nothing from you."
"You are wise in that. I never grant favors."
-Ozma of Oz by Frank Baum
"asked for nothing, expected nothing
no reason for coming except curiosity."
into the woods of Vermont
reminded me things have stood
longer than necessary,
a window seat in the sun
into emailing a stranger.
Is there danger in that, reaching out into the unknown?
I sink my heart
into an airborne stone,
find a bedstead below the Fatima Lady,
and Sadie in Vermont,
her old dog bones
Up the road from your Cabot home
I met a farmstead shrine to Maria.
Is it still there?
Flamenco of one brother, three.
One broke his heel
two threw off their shoes,
all spun round
a box drum.
Outside the dance,
the street tamps down
Should something happen,
someone always cleans up the mess.
The cormorant's frills made of rabbit tufts
enough white around the eyes to shoot
The blue gulf inside the bill,
now rich with
fish and blood.
Flood colonies with oil, spoil nests.
Tell the birds.
Should something happen,someone always cleans up the mess.
under metal rain.
so much pain.
are we at war again?
Should something happen,someone always cleans up the mess.
un cuenco roto
mi cuñado murió hoy
algo se ha derramado
alguien ha desaparecido
壊れたボウル 私の義理の兄は今日亡くなりました 何かがこぼれた 誰かが空になりました
Kowareta bōru watashi no giri no ani wa kyō nakunarimashita nanika ga koboreta darekaga sora ni narimashita
My brother-in-law died today
Someone is empty
if I read the numbers
if I plead with gods
if I take pills to sleep
if I despair
if I don't understand why this disease
furiously fights for him
if I cannot speak
if he grows weaker, then rebounds
if he lives through this
if he dies
if again and again
we'll have more
weeks up and down
if the grandchildren look at their great uncle
eyes wide and cry
as if their word for you,
might find him instead
if I cannot say dead
if I cannot say cured
if I have too many words
but never enough
蝉 Semi Cigarra الزيز alziz 매미 maemi cikade greier zikadak
蝉 Chán సికాడా Sikāḍā सिकाडा sikaada ሲካዳ sīkada
1. cicada disaaweshiinh+yag 2. cicada meminaabawijiisi+wag 3. cicada meminaabawijiisii+g
Dark roast, no milk.
Careful. Sorrow distracts, causes overfill, spillage.
This wake's within. We knew you knew not to come, cried alone,
but wouldn't hide what died among the stones.
Conversations after funerals, measured by mug size. Black water reflects another lie: