ordinary
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
lift
up
midair
do you like birds?
canarias
pitch bulls
crooning wolves
that's the end of cold
biting
bright
midair
do you like birds?
canarias
pitch bulls
crooning wolves
that's the end of cold
biting
bright
Monday, March 17, 2014
turn
when
bruise
blood
breath
wane
when
bone
ash
itch
remain
when without has won
when the wide opens
turn.
blue and red light therapy
During the first few experiments
the disciples of light
were amazed
no one believed it
stunned
the first blue
killed
bacteria
red
raised the eye two lines
blue
went into streams and rivers
scooped water from the surface
and heat-saved
drank the sun
why does it work?
red light reels
photosynthesis
chloroplasts mitochondria
rescues the metabolically challenged
tune then to
the bluest the bluest
pathways
pathways
open to the sun
the disciples of light
were amazed
no one believed it
stunned
the first blue
killed
bacteria
red
raised the eye two lines
blue
went into streams and rivers
scooped water from the surface
and heat-saved
drank the sun
why does it work?
red light reels
photosynthesis
chloroplasts mitochondria
rescues the metabolically challenged
tune then to
the bluest the bluest
pathways
pathways
open to the sun
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Baucis and Philomen
it is 41 days without you
I made a painting of this moment
when you pleaded with life to take us together
or you first
two trees
one earth
triangular reach
white separation
"One problem is insoluble. One day the blow will fall and separate us. No friendly god
will turn us into a tree to shade the farm.
...I lack the means of imagining the moment of separation. As I am neither able nor willing to imagine another life, some kind of life beyond the frontier, the perspective is appalling. That nobody will have not even have a memory of an affinity."
Ingmar Bergman, The Magic Lantern
I made a painting of this moment
when you pleaded with life to take us together
or you first
two trees
one earth
triangular reach
white separation
"One problem is insoluble. One day the blow will fall and separate us. No friendly god
will turn us into a tree to shade the farm.
...I lack the means of imagining the moment of separation. As I am neither able nor willing to imagine another life, some kind of life beyond the frontier, the perspective is appalling. That nobody will have not even have a memory of an affinity."
Ingmar Bergman, The Magic Lantern
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Monday, March 10, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
middle
Wednesday
in white
enveloped in white
where is the lamp?
cars are lamps
and the jasmine with new leaves also
lamplights
in white
I'm in the middle, half-lit,
between next and after
in white
in white
enveloped in white
where is the lamp?
cars are lamps
and the jasmine with new leaves also
lamplights
in white
I'm in the middle, half-lit,
between next and after
in white
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
4 March
one month ago
you died
it is 11F outside
and snowing
dhamma says
no clouded sky or mountain cleft
no river valley
can hide one from death
you did not hide
sun lit your face
as you left us
it is snowing
a boy you knew
nearly died yesterday
your best friend's pain is palpable
unconstructed
and very, very beautiful
you were beautiful
108 times each day I send loving kindness to all things
and nothings
remembering now you are both
you died
it is 11F outside
and snowing
dhamma says
no clouded sky or mountain cleft
no river valley
can hide one from death
you did not hide
sun lit your face
as you left us
it is snowing
a boy you knew
nearly died yesterday
your best friend's pain is palpable
unconstructed
and very, very beautiful
you were beautiful
108 times each day I send loving kindness to all things
and nothings
remembering now you are both
Icaro
Icaro came late to us today
too late for you my love
to see a young man who also fell from the sky
this man was hungry and lost
as we were once
I fed the stranger as the Greeks and Ottawa say you must
I thought of your white beard flashing under an Aegean sun
a skiff of a man
looking for an island
or a boy
or an end
in summer
too late for you my love
to see a young man who also fell from the sky
this man was hungry and lost
as we were once
I fed the stranger as the Greeks and Ottawa say you must
I thought of your white beard flashing under an Aegean sun
a skiff of a man
looking for an island
or a boy
or an end
in summer
eleven days
ten to mourn him
the eleventh to burn him
as he rises
above the city walls
falling as he did
too proud
too
soon
the eleventh to burn him
as he rises
above the city walls
falling as he did
too proud
too
soon
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