Tuesday, February 28, 2006

You

I woke to a shadow on the stairs -lightly treading
As dawn graciously poured itself across our room
And then came close to this fleeting shadow
Lifted her, carried her, in joy, through the dwelling
Setting her down by the table, for a meal

After which we tangled most innocently
On the bedroom floor. Fully clothed.
A thumb or finger across her forehead
Around her earlobe, was enough to rip my heart
Utterly to pieces - she does what she wants there

Have you ever?
Moving in the wide snow beside hospital bricks
She dangles a cigarette, almost tiny in dark wool
The words uncover a savage landscape, which only
Allows itself that because it is wrapped in
The bindings of humilty - everything is red, and open

On the couch, it is a matter of daring. Game-theoretic self-exposure
Which at the same moment yearns for the implosion
Of the game. And, oh, if that were to occur
I guarantee you one could perish not in decades, but
The very next day, fulfilled.

Nothing left to be done.







Monday, February 27, 2006

Indelicate Thoughts - the Way of the Sword

A BOOK OF FIVE RINGS
Miyamoto Musashi

There are Many Enemies

"There are many enemies" applies when you are fighting one against many. Draw both sword and companion sword and assume a wide-stretched left and right attitude. The spirit is to chase the enemies around from side to side, even though they come from all four directions. Observe their attacking order, and go to meet first those who attack first. Sweep your eyes around broadly, carefully examining the attacking order, and cut left and right alternately with your swords. Waiting is bad. Always quickly re-assume your attitudes to both sides, cut the enemies down as they advance, crushing them in the direction from which they attack. Whatever you do, you must drive the enemy together, as if tying a line of fishes, and when they are seen to be piled up, cut them down strongly without giving them room to move.


HAGAKURE - THE WAY OF THE SAMURAI
Yamamoto Tsunetomo

Mudfish Salad

"A certain Master Tokuhisa was born quite different from other people and looked to be a bit moronic. Once, a guest was invited and mudfish salad was served. At that time everyone said, "Master Tokuhisa's mudfish salad," and laughed. Later when he was in attendance and a certain person made fun of him by quoting the above remark, Tokuhisa pulled out his sword and cut the man down. This event was investigated and it was stated to Lord Naoshige, "Seppuku is recommended because this was a matter of rashness within the palace."

When Lord Naoshige heard this, he said, "To be made fun of and remain silent is cowardice. There is no reason to overlook this fact because one is within the palace. A man who makes fun of people is himself a fool. It was his own fault for being cut down."

-pg. 106

Sincere Speech

Because of some business, Morooka Hikoemon was called upon to swear before the gods concerning the truth of a certain matter. But he said, "A samurai's word is harder than metal. Since I have impressed this fact upon myself, what more can the gods and Buddhas do?" and the swearing was cancelled. This happened when he was twenty-six.

-pg. 43

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Exit (first draft, clearly weak - but has potential)

Everyone is leaving

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The woman pushes a glass door aside
You cannot see her, when she turns

She's gone - fine hair flowing

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Everyone is always leaving

----------------------------------------

When the autumn began
At the docks

Your guests were boarding
While you were staying, another week alone

Walking back home, the sea grasses
Bent in a soft wind

When you returned, you lay down
And listened to the sea
There was nothing else to do

--------------------------------------------

They are going across the bay

-------------------------------------------

My cousin has had surgery

In the bed next door
A man coughs, begs for a nurse, for something

I wonder - is he prepared to leave?

-------------------------------------------------

I drop her off, the lovely girl. She says
"Now I must put on my front - my false face"
She steps from the truck

Entering a home, from which I am forbidden

--------------------------------------------------

They are always going out, always going
Over the edges of hills
Around corners
Into the sky, water, and ground

---------------------------------------------------

She stood on the corner and told you
"When you came here, I would have done anything for you".
Then turns.

-----------------------------------------------------

Another disappears into the desert, into Jesus Christ
Into California, or his children, or his money

-----------------------------------------------------

Birds in flight formation peel off, one by one
No one knows why they do this, or if they do
They cannot predict which one will drop next

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As for me, I am saying good-bye, in practice
The way I step from the door of the truck,
And how I gaze over a lake, shoulder a pack
Look upon my daughter, or merge with the highway

I'm going too - and soon.

----------------------------------------------------------

A vessel passing across the sea, churns a wake
The buoys bob minutes after it passes

What of us? Is there something remaining
When this cascade of unbearable beauty - closes?

Or, did the pleasure of meeting, of knowing
Even of loving, trail behind us empty
While we exited it, then it, and then finally
Relinquished our hold on the last thing,
And suddenly left forever?

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Forecast Code

Just off the edge of the edge of land
I am familiar with a proud tower
The solitary occupant of which, the Monitor
when not gazing upon the frothy sea
Attends to instruments
Wind vanes, hydrometers, barometers

His is the duty to examine, to predict even
The play, the entanglement, the lovemaking
Of air masses - and the attendant results
Of said activity

Just two days ago, scarcely a heartbeat
In geologic time
A force ten gale ripped the sea to shreds
Tossing boats to the bottom - knocking men senseless
Washing them overboard
Dropping trees, whipping stoplights
Like windchimes in a monastery door

And then stopped

What followed, a lull, the withdrawing of
Extremes, difficult for the endurance of Poseidon, who delights
In storms, but requiring it. For there are a few things
Which even a Poseidon cannot master

As the candle guttered out, high above the sea
The monitor writes in his daily logbook, the brute
Facts of the day, but he adds :

Tonight I wonder what the Front itself must apprehend
In the moment before the collision
Which creates the storm, and in which
The Front is destroyed (but the constituent air remains).

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

The Second Amendment

Bible Camp

I remember once when I went to this camp that all of us cousins hated, there was a place there where we fired BB Guns. We lay on our bellies inside some sort of dark shack, and shot at colorful targets. It was a Christian camp. We couldn't abide it. We called the road to the camp "murder road" and were convinced that our parents were just dumping us there to get on with the unfettered pleasures of their summer.

I went down to the BB shed after one kid strangled me for a while while I was rocking in a wooden rocking chair on the porch of the bible study building. He had just come out from bible study group and didn't go down to the water with the other kids. Instead he came around the corner of the porch and began to strangle me.

The camp had a native american theme area with a large teepee on an empty athletic field. One of my cousins hid packs of sugar between the tent poles and the canvas covering stretched around them. When things just became too much for all of us, we'd escape and meet in the teepee. Then my cousin reached around behind the poles and pulled out packs of sugar. She would tear them open and pour out the sugar into our hands.

While the true belivers swam and fired rifles, we ate raw sugar.

Unloaded Twenty-Two

My great aunt and uncle lived in upstate New York. She had been a bank VP long before women pierced the glass ceiling. He was a World War veteran who had a cooking show on TV. I remember a thick rug of dark blue, very plush, with red figures. I sat on the rug and played with their dogs. Every year we siphoned their swimming pool, and we often collected brush.

During one visit I was in the study with my great uncle. He handed me a rifle that was heavier than the BB guns from camp. I hefted it. He showed me how to aim it, and explained the way to pull the trigger softly so as not to rock the weapon.

"Pull the trigger", he said. "It's not loaded."

I held the rifle against my shoulder and stared down the barrel. I moved the sight around the room and settled down on a three-foot-high blue and white antique vase from China that was resting in the far corner. When I squeezed off the trigger, the vase instantly exploded.

Why I cannot remember the specifics of his wife's response, I don't know. But my great uncle was flexible, he explained to me how important it is to determine whether or not a rifle is loaded before it is fired.

Coming soon in this issue :

A Norwegian Sweater

Six of Them

Welfare Mom

The Back Steps

Commando

Home Defense

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Death

There was a wide, unpopulated boulevard
Simple, concrete sidewalks, black asphalt street
No cars, daytime, brilliant, several leaves
Scattered by a light breeze

I came down one side in a jacket
Unzippered, in the springtime
Hands in pockets, wind in unbrushed hair
I dont know - how old I was
Or how young

There was no end to the street
Just sun, hardness, contrast, angles
And no sound

To walk there felt good - was joyous even
I smiled slightly
While memories made themselves known to me
Though I couldn't hold them

It was my life I was examining

Everyone walks this street in the high sun
Everyone remains a mystery to themselves
Except in this instant
When what was believed dissolves completely
Into Life