This is a little flower i found for pelin. i hope her journey is going well and that she is healthy.



pic taken from desert usa
http://www.desertusa.com/aug97/images/7-no2sacred.jpg

light illuminating from within

last night i went to a poetry reading at the river parkway and it was a great time. thanks to lee herrick for his poems which were warm and tender and timely.
i noticed something strange. as he read a poem about his korean name (which translates to bright light) his watch reflected the light from a very bright reading lamp making his middle illuminate. when he turned the page the light went away, but i was so intrigued by this i thought about it all the ride home.
we also drove past a dark, lengthy snake as we entered the river parkway. when we left i imagined the snake looking out from the oleander at us as we left. snakes entering and exiting, making their presence known by a shadow and a line in our periphery.



driving out to see a poetry reading by the river

lines, lines
a star that accidents
light on your rib cage

chrysanthemums in the fall
like lions bursting
from dark green jungles

the reeper man
planting camillas
snakes in lines
in lines
in lines
snakes rope our entrance
thick-budded, S bodies
trails in the dirt

snakes hiding
alone in dark oleander
eyes lacquered like jeweled beetles
they climb steps,
they mark
the way
through this time

are you reflecting this light?
is this an apparition,
the extinct heart,
calling out to its followers
to come to come

good messages

huzza for the massage and a poem about a crow

i just wanted to say thank you to marilyn for the massage today. and thank you to curtis for making it possible.

my body keeps forgetting that it is attached to my mind. it is relentless in its resistance against my mind. my mind loads it with an overabundance of emotions that i don't let go of. it is going to make me sick one day.

but today i released some of it: worries about the new house, my role in this world, my students, my loved ones, and me.
my #2 toe wouldn't give up the last of those goat-headed, stickery thoughts and marilyn pulled that toe until it loosened its grip. and all the while i repeated two words over and over in my mind.
resistance and release.
resistance and release.



the crow flies above our home in the morning
the crow flies above our home at noon
she passes us at dusk
the flickering lights bright as moonshine
the road is a grey tail

she remembers very well the grey tail
of her mother
that dusty bird whose eyes were dark reflections of pools
she remembers as much as this
landing low against the broken vines
on top of the shared fence at our new home

unnecessary things.

it is a lazy tuesday morning and i'm feeling a bit guilty for not working.
i decided that this was as good a day as any to start my blog. it has been a long time coming.

there is a new mix on the cd player and i don't think i like it all that much. it sounds like plastic paper being wrinkled in my ear.

i hope to get back to poetry, but it has been a struggle.
there is a waxy monarch butterfly in the window. autumn is here with the monarchs.

there is also a large, bulbous black widow living in a hole at the top of the stairs. i fear going out the door because she may descend on me and tickle me with her wicked thin legs, or worse, she might also catch the monarch and this would be quite devastating for me to see, the waxy wings wiggling in thick webs.



Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn

A cool breeze in summer, snow in winter.

If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things,

This is the best season of your life.

~Wu-men