NOTELESS

He says, “I write songs
without music, my head
is a libretto warehouse.”
She says, “You string words
like random beads, no
two strands the same.”
He says, “Symmetry is
for those with linear minds,
who can’t see out of the tunnel.”
She said, “Dysentery
is a disease to be avoided
particularly by poets.”
He says, “I’ll sing a song
for you, if I can only
find the notes.”
Se says, “fine, but know
it is the silent spaces between
the notes where music truly lives.

VOYAGE FROM WITHIN

Magellan set sail 497 years ago,
which had nothing to do with her desire
to find a corner in which she could stand,
protected on two sides, and still
stare out into the world and see
all that was going on around her.
Better still if it were fashioned
of plexiglass, it could surround her
fully, as long as sound could get in,
and she could be fully engaged
in life without the risks that others
always seemed to drag in their wakes.
It wasn’t that she didn’t need people,
she just needed them at the proper
distance and most could never
determine what that distance
might be despite her entreaties.
Magellan would die a year and a half
later, a mistake she would never make.

THE SPACE BETWEEN

 

The space between
want and need
is at once a vast gulf
and the width of the hair,
much the same as that
separating luck and greed.
It is only in the eyes mind
that the gap is insurmountable
and we give up hope
that those who live
in the land of wants
will ever look across
the border of tears
and truly see those
who are doomed
to toil endlessly
in the land of need.

STARING

If you stare at it long enough
it is certain to become familiar,
as though you have seen the very thing
in the very place and time before.
You know this is not possible, but
it allows you to conceive of the future,
even though that cannot exist, any more
than the past can now exist, and if it
once did, was it as you remember it?
The mind is ponderous, and grows more so
when it tries to grasp what does not exist,
and in the accretion, it subtly
curves space-time around it,
so that what is real and what is not
cannot be distinguished, and if
you stare forward long enough, you will
likely stare into the back of your head.

MILES FROM HERE

Some say Miles said

it’s the space

between the notes –
that’s where the music is.
We heard him, we smiled,
we anticipated the next
note and the next.
Outside my window
a blue jay
recites his morning prayer,
the child’s laugh
breaks the frozen sky
and shivers the maple.
Then all is silence –
even the wind
holds its breath
not in anticipation
but to create the void
that nature craves.
If we allow ourselves
in, Miles blows
the song of God
one
note
at
a
time.