They can have sharp edges
that wound on contact, some cuts so deep they leave lasting scars.
They can get stuck in the throat
until you feel you can no longer breathe, no longer cry out for help.
They can lie there, an
aggregate always acreting and yet rejecting any meaning.
Or they can, carefully chosen
present great beauty, offer hope, promise freedom.
They are the currency of poets
and writers, and they chronicle our history and our lives.
language, literature, mind, Photography, Poem, Prose, Uncategorized, writing
acrete, aggregate, beauty, breathe, chronicle, contact, cry, currencyk, cut, deep, edge, Freedom, help, History, hope, lives, meaning, poets, promise, scar, sharp, throat, wound, writers
I should pause for a moment
and mourn the plump orbs vinaceous in the morning sun, torn free, placed in baskets and carried off to be crushed. But the cabernet beckons, its first sip telling the tale of the California summer, the oak having long forgotten the tree from which it was cut, and I watch as the sun reluctantly retreats, a flaming farewell, the promise of a return, the moon casting its purple glare on the wine glass.
First appeared in
, Vol. 3, Issue 4, Winter 2022 Flora Fiction https://florafiction.com/literary-magazine/volume-4/
Food, morning, Nature, Night, Photography, Poem, Uncategorized
baskets, cabernet, California, crushed, cut, farewell, glass, grape, moon, oak, plump, promise, sip, summer, sun, tree, wine
Preparing it to undergo
the knife, its core excised, stem cast aside, sliced then cut into pieces I pause to consider that this pear was once a blossom, a delicate white flower, its cranberry red anthes soon to turn black, picked carefully, cradled into a bushel, by a knowing hand, washed, and gently packed for shipment. For me it was just plucking it from the bin at the market, holding it in the harsh lighting looking for blemishes, and then placing it in the cart, then the bag hoping it would not bruise before undergoing its final surgery.
Food, Humanist, mind, Nature, Philosophy, Poem, Uncategorized
andthes, blemish, blossom, bushel, cart, core, cranberry, cut, flower, hand, knire, light, Market, pack, pear, pieces, shipment, surgery, wash, white
Snakes, like coins,
have both head and tail. If I cut a snake in two, have I two snakes, or none at all? Walk carefully for the spade that cuts the snake can dig an inescapable abyss.
A reflection on case 43 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans (True Dharma Eye)
Buddhism, Buddhist, Japan, Koan, mind, Mystical, Philosophy, Photography, Poem, Religion, Zen
abyss, coin, cut, Dogen, Kiso, Koan, Shobogenzo, snake, spade, True Dharma Eye
At the moment of your birth
my son, I grew suddenly older, mortality became a reality that I could no longer avoid.
You could not imagine this,
and I doubt others could see but I knew and the infinite collapsed inside the event horizon.
Your brother came later, but
that death was incremental, a single cut among thousands, a step on a path you chose for me.
You have your own children now,
your shochet impatiently waiting in the shadows, and they cannot imagine their
roles until the play rolls out
and they are thrust onto the stage with no possible exits, and an audience that knows how this play ends.
aging, Children, Death, Family, Memory, parents, Poem, Time, Uncategorized
audience, avoid, birth, cut, event horizon, exit, infinite, moment, mortality, old, reality, role, shadow, shochet, son, stage, step path, thousands
You sit before him
an axe in his hand. He asks a question and says if you answer I will cut off your right hand, if you do not respond I will sever your left.
There is no sound
from the clock in the corner as you silently grab his axe and he smiles in deeply shared knowledge.
A reflection on Case 82 of the Iron Flute Koans
Buddhist, Japan, Koan, language, meditation, mind, Philosophy, Poem, Religion, Uncategorized, Zen
answer, axe, Buddhism, clock, corner, cut, Gento, hand, knowledge, Koan, question, sit, student, teacher
If I ask you
“does a circle have both inside and outside,” what do you say. If you cut it into three pieces, which has inside, which outside and what of the third?
A reflection on Case 55 of the True Dharma Eye (Shobogenzo) Koans
Buddhist, Cosmology, Japan, Koan, meditation, mind, Poem, Religion, Zen
Buddhism, circle, cut, inside, Koan, outside, pieces, whole
My wife pauses by the placard
in the nature preserve and tells me that what I have been calling grasses are in fact a sedge known as sawgrass.
She points out the warning that
it’s serrated on the edge and earned its name from those who grasped it without knowing or thinking first.
I feign listening but she knows
my mind is elsewhere, knows I often depart conversations suddenly while maintaining a false presence.
She does not know I am 40 years
younger, pouring hydrogen peroxide on the cut deep into the interossei muscles when the glove slipped off
and the yucca I was boldly trying
to pull from the dry, stone like soil had decided this was the moment to extract its final revenge.
aging, Dream, Memory, Nature, Poem, Southwest, Time
conversation, cut, placard, preserve, sawgrass, sedge, serrated, soil, warning, yucca
Morning slowly encroaches
on your dreams, eroding
images despite your tightening grasp.
Clear lines blur, become hazy
and dissipate bleached
by the first light creeping
around the shades.
The dreams do not care
for they will arise again
when they choose
and this is for them
a mere inconvenience.
You are the loser here
for the linear mindstring
once cut never reties
with simplicity and something
is always lost in the tying.
Dream, Memory, mind, Nature, Photography, Poem, psychology, Time
arise, blur, cut, dreams, light, linear, lines, loser, Loss, mind, morning, shades