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ARRHYTHMIA
Life ought be little more thanarrhythmic motion, a pathwe only want to straighten,to smooth, its natural, necessarytwists and bumps somehow,for we always see them asimpediments not momentsof joyous indecision wherethere are no wrong choicesfor each choice unfoldsa new path never trodden,never imagined or foreseen. A bird flies to where it needsto be, but for most…
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EN ROUTE
We spend so much of our livesimagining we are en route,always on the way to somewhereif often not certain where thatsomewhere might be. It seems we intensely dislikenot being in motion, not focusedon the future, the destination,never wanting to be, seemingto dread being static. Yet the irony is that we,at any given moment, arenever en…
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VICTOR
In our timeof never-ending war,punctured by the briefestlulls we now call peace,someone, someonesmore likely, will talkabout whom will bethe victor, to whomshall go the spoils.Bierce, that perpetualcynic, reminded usthat peace was a periodof cheating betweentwo periods of fighting.But no one pausesto consider thatin any war there areno true victorsonly the victimsunwillingly offered upin sacrifice to…
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THE DARK SIDE
She is so often presentas the sun makes itsdaily retreat, weimagine she ismysterious asshe hides, ordoes she takerefuge in the shadows.?Only a fewhave truly seen herand they speak onlyof her luminescentalter ego.
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AFLOAT
I have taken tofolding my poemsinto little paper boatsand dropping gentlyinto the riverwhere they saildownstream. Many may drownbut some mayreach the lakeor be plucked outand reador discarded. The river is,in the end,my harshestcritic.
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JOSHU’S WASH THE BOWL
In the early morningwelcome the sun,as the day retreatswelcome the sun.When you are walkingalong the garden pathwhich foot is forwardand which footis behind? A reflection on case 67 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo (True Dharma Eye)
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WANTING
I wanted to write like Heaneybut of course he got there firstand could do it in two languages,so that was out of the question. I tried to write like otherof the greats only to find thatwhat set them apart from so manyset them rather far apart from me. So I an left to write as…
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EIRE
They say you must cherishyour memories lest they slipaway in the night, trying fora freedom you deny them. I remember Ireland, knowingit was home although at the timeI thought I was Ashkenaziand Portuguese, but my geneswere trying to tell me something. I remember driving a stickshift down narrow roads,always keeping in mindthe advice, “if you…
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LISTING
I suppose I shouldmake a list of the thingsI don’t very much like. I’m an optimist so the listwon’t be all that long, thoughit grows the more I think about it. I was going to putmy ex-wife on the listbut she doesn’t like meand I have no feelingsfor her either way. So it’s down toautocrats…
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WHAT WOULD YOU SAY
I am just wonderingwhat you would sayif you were calledto testify about allthat you had seen,all that had disgusted you,all that you condemnedbut did and saidnothing while it occurred.What would you sayif you had no choicebut truth, no shading,no mincing of words,just the harsh lightand you in a chairin an empty room,a disembodied voiceasking endless…
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an old writer and his words 