Muito ventoso no meu coração

o meu coração 

que é um muro de musgo e concha

uma parede abalada pelo vento e pelos sonhos

 __________________________________________

 

Very windy in my heart
my heart that is a wall of moss and shell
a wall shaken by wind and dreams

 

here

at the edge 

of the Taklamakan

not much 

as yet untouched

 

1

Cuthbert

up to his neck 

in a spring

and the acolyte

of Tadao,

under

the waterfall,

both cold,

told themselves

desire had fled.

Instead,

Cuthbert

licked dry by otters,

and the acolyte,

his skin 

dog nuzzled,

were puzzled to find

their bodies aware.

There are ways

one remains insoluble. 

2

In Carpaccio's 1495 painting,

Cormorants Hunting in the Lagoon,

two fish lie gutted in a boat.

Lilies on the edge,

birds among men,

then the sense of tide,

and sun.

 

3

A reindeer's hide,

with hooves, brings meat.

Seated hearthside, we sing songs,

transport color.

Underground round

how much is buried

down there

other questions lurking

in cracked corners

inside structures

shale bracelet

Pan flanged vessel

understanding

fugou

you try to understand what 

is so small

so 

then

this surprise

a simple cooking vessel

and then Romans 

elephants

tribal tin

pythean

wide

countering

insularity

 1/5 of iron age population 

in britain 

not from europe

total depth

of diversity?

grain production

axes

portable cleanliness

of artifacts

stone

quern

coin

axe

 

 

spider

spider

void

 

too many too much

 

a circularity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One year here.

 

I watch the camelias bloom again, 

and sorrel opening in the rain 

as the roosters and hens continue rooting under wet duff.

 

There is enough garbage slippage near the Douro to murder a whale.

 

The homeless have been moved.

 

One guy now camps inside a battered garden shed, 

another nests himself at a tipping point

on saturated ground that will kill him if it fails.

 

I wonder if he worries at all about that.

 

A rat has crept out of the rain,

crouched under a dry ledge at the busy bus stop. 

No one gives it the slightest notice.

 

Worms flooded to surface rise from under sorrel.

Drenched camelias bloom.

 

Blooms as brown as the rat lie shivering in the rain bogged dirt.

All this is ordinary, 

as ordinary as the garden warbler 

that greets me here

high above the earth, 

on the roof where I live.

The warbler suddenly flits off,

remembering to be elusive.

 

Perhaps it's met the rat, or the men below, who have told it how 

it is best now

among us

to remain invisible.

	Dec 4,  1:38 PM  (3 days ago)

1

Drawn to one life and not another

 

2

Seascape shaping the morning mind -

kinds of blue,

and raptors

 

3

Aspects of vegetation -

gutter weed,

seeds of alyssum

stonecrop

freesia buds peering into the cold

 

4

Ryokan

Dōgen

or

Kamo-no-Chomei 

it's clear

they wouldn't sneer

at my American mind

5

Robert Adamson

Juno Gemes

rare birds

in love

6

An aspect of animal

shivering rat in the rain

learning it should pain me

 

7

Husband comes in dreams again

lets me go

so I know

hurting

there's love still

in nothing

 

8

Eggs and peas

pleasing

winter breakfast

new life and green

 

 

 

 

 

 1

her mother died 7 times

 

2

lizard in a plastic pot

got help getting out

 

3

swift

swift

swallow

always, always gulls

 

4

cloud cover

sun

plants up here

have begun to

rebloom

soon

the cyclamen

 

5

no you are not like us

more loess

less

talk

 

6

I have been thinking 

days without drinking

these have made me 

this

7

will there be a record

of the women

children 

dogs

who did this

lived 

where

some have begun

the erasure again

when

does it end?