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ORIGIN
I am told that I should writeabout my origins, that is the stuffthat long poems are made of, orrather the soil from which they bloom. I have written about my birth motherand visited her grave in West Virginiaseen those of my grandparents, meta cousin, I’ve written all of that. So its time to write aboutmy…
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LAUNDRY LOVE
In the older romcom moviesthere was often a meetcutetaking place in a laundromat. I have spent far too many hoursin laundromats when travelingon extended business trips. I found one in Santa Cruzwith a coffee shop and figuredit was where romance would bloom. I spend more than a few hourswatching but while the coffeewas always pouring,…
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IN THE JUNGLE
If you close your eyesyou can imagine that this gardenwas once a tropical jungleas imagined by some cleverFloridian striving to separatemore tourists from theirdwindling travellers checks. It has been carefully done over,plants native and ornamentalreplacing the vines and trees,the alligators, real and imaginarygone, now an exhibit of Lego animals,the orchids in bloom, andyou wonder why…
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Fuketsu’s Speech and Silence 無門關 二十四
Inward but not outwarda broken stick Outward but no inwarda broken stick A partridge singsin silenceflowers bloomat midnight Fuketsu smiles knowingly. A reflection on case 24 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate)
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LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER, NOT
My mother used to say, about most anything, “Stop, you’ve had your fill.” It was something she did by rote, dictated I was certain then, by some timer buried deep within her that brought forth the phrase like the beep of an oven timer to indicate whenever she was baking was certain to be just…
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CYCLES
The Royal Poinciana is in full bloom, its brilliant flame has led the sun to take jealous refuge in the clouds but we know not to be complacent. Mother nature it is said, and we are loathe to argue, can be at times the most fickle of bitches and we suspect that it will not…
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TRIANGULATION
He says that foremost Mao Zedong was a poet, and knew that all poetry must at some level be political, must incite the reader to rebel against complacency. I say that Zhao Zhenkai wrote as Bei Dao as the ultimate act of rebellion, sacrificing his very identity. He says that I am anchored by the…
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an old writer and his words 