The bird being a medium of song

Song

Air an instrument of the tongue,
The tongue an instrument
Of the body. The body
An instrument of spirit,
The spirit a being of the air.

The bird a medium of song.
Song a microcosm, a containment
Like the fresh hotel room, ready
For each new visitor to inherit
A little world of time there.

In the Cornell box, among
Ephemera as its element,
The preserved bird–a study
In spontaneous elegy, the parrot
Art, mortal in its cornered sphere.

Robert Pinsky

poised for autumn

all senses poised
for autumn
like a leaf on edge

october 13, 2007

Fuyu

In the dim fall light
At the window eating
A fuyu persimmon
Thinking of one that I
Might have shared with

October 12, 2007

roiling dreams

i spent the night in endless roiling dreams.

in the dreams i rolled and tumbled like one she told me of once and she kept entering my presence, my existence. i found myself curling up like a millipede or pretending to be a shut nautilus to push her presence out. each time stung like a centipede's bite but i could not bear the allure and pain of her presence, her touch.

i wrapped her up in an imaginary membrane and tied it shut to rid her from my mind.

in the dream, i wept. when i woke, my pillow was damp and smelled of salt.

Like Gunpowder

Below a splotched sky
He needs tea like gunpowder
To hold against images
Lingering from last night's
Dreams like she lingers
In his consciousness

Feeling flighty

Early morning
Chill of autumn
Tea grows cold fast

Feeling flighty
Feeling nomadic
Images of deserts

Turquoise then shells
Some place to find
Warmth for the heart

October 11, 2007

Pu-erh & Persimmon

I had my first persimmon
of the season today; another
sign of autumn's presence.
Its sweet, bitter taste
demanded a tea worth
its depth. So I made a
pot of Pu-erh and gazed
at its dark liquor. Its drifting
fragrance like a longing for a
lover walking beyond one's vision.

October 1o, 2007

Today I Drank Jasmine

I picked up these artifacts;
they made me think of her.
that night I drank tea;
ginseng oolong with friends.
Today I drink jasmine
and choose a quill to suture
words knowing she is gone.

October 9, 2007

– equusignis

autumnal cycle

october is here again. this part of autumn is my favorite part of the
year though it is always associated with great pain. perhaps it is something i do to myself to match the season; everything decays and/or dies in order to have a rebirth again in spring.

Wanderer

I think of her
how could it
be possible

that she does not
walk in my mind?

The warmth of
her footsteps across
mazes of my dreams.

October 8, 2007