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ASK OF THE SEA
When you ask me of the sea,living, as I do, fifteen milesfrom the nearest ocean, itis not the sandy beachesof Hutchinson Island I recall,nor the crowded sandboxthat is Fort Lauderdale’s beach. If you ask me of the sea,it is perched on the horizon,far in the distance, lookingout of the kitchen window,or perhaps that of the…
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ABIDING
The dawning sun brings forth the birds’morning chorus, their song glidesthrough the windows, no wordsare needed, their meaning heardand through it all, morning simply abides. We are left to shelter within, to girdourselves against the unseen tidethat has washed over us undeterred,rendered all once normal absurdand through it all, morning simply abides. We cannot change…
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BARDLESS
Laertes was supposed to visit mein my dreams last night,but Iago texted that they bothwere suddenly otherwise engaged. There is a strong possibility, of coursethat this was just another instanceof Marlowe trying to wreak havocwith my ever more precious sleep. Tomorrow I will recall none of thisfor the day ereases my dreamsmuch as the sun…
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OLD SCHOOL
How much better off would we beif every poet and wanna be werecompelled to write using only paperand a quill pen dipped regularlyinto a small glass inkwell? You must wonder if we would seemore elegance, villanelles, sonnets,and the other forms now lying jumbledin the great literary waste bin. What would we discover if leftto our…
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詩
The Japanese inventedhaiku certain that a paintingof great beauty couldbe completed with onlya few strokes of the brush. The Japanese have no wordfor what we claim is higherorder poetry, academic andpedantic are two other Englishwords which easily apply.And the Japanese are hard putto comprehend so much of whatwe deem experimental, the result,a friend named Yoshi…
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INSIDE THE PAGE
She asks innocently,listening to the wind whisperingthrough the bare branches of the oak,“How long have you livedin this poem,” pointingto the page of markedand remarked typescript.He looks at her as if discoveringshe’d grown another head,peeking out from betweenher well-polished teeth.“I have no idea what you mean,”he says, “I write the poems—it is up to you…
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FOR NOW
Tomorrow this poem willmost assuredly no longer be here,though when during the nightit will slip away, never againto be seen, I don’t know or perhaps itwill return in a form I would not recognize,recrafted by the hand of an unseen editor. It may take on a meaning unfamiliar,or translate itself into a tonguethat I can…
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HAIKU
I picked up a bookoff the shelf this morningone hundred haiku it was like sitting downa word starved man, tiredof searching for an alwaysdenied sustenance, and herelaid out before me, a repastof the sweetest grapes,bits of sugar caressinga tongue grown usedto the often bitternessof ill-considered prose. As midday approachedI knew that this was a mealto…
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POETS GATHER
One deep and abiding beauty of dreamsis that it is entirely logical forMarina Tsvetaeva to be engagedIn an animated discussion withCorso and Ginsberg where none willacknowledge that the world theywrote and imagined is a total mess. Over in the corner, Mandelstam andReznikoff have agreed that for eternityevery game of chess they play willresult in a…
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HOGEN’S DRIP OF WATER 鐵笛倒吹 九十一
What are wordsof wisdomfrom the mouthof the ancient ones.I tell youthese are such words.You may acceptor reject themas you will.Better still, tearthis page from its bindingcrumple itand cast itto the four winds.Let it be carriedoff in ten directions. A reflection on case 91 of the Iron Flute Koans
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an old writer and his words 