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Archive for December, 2014

Sometimes We Accept the Invitation, Sometimes We Don’t

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on December 9, 2014| 1 Comment »

two haikulings inspired by Rumi’s Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi

over the edge
making the last step
with no feet

(Divan xxxv)

*

that departure drum–
how easily I slip its beat
into my dream

(Divan xxxvi)

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If Only There Were Only a Hundred

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on December 9, 2014| 1 Comment »

a haikuling inspired by Rumi’s Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi

as one veil falls
to the floor, already
another veil to drop

(Divan xxxv)

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Dusting the Breasts of the Doris Caesar Statue

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on December 8, 2014| 3 Comments »

They are large, the breasts,
more than two handfuls’ worth.

I move the soft cloth over them
slowly, gently, though she is bronze

and does not require tenderness.
I give her tenderness. I touch her

the way I long to be touched,
unhurried, deliberate, leisurely.

Outside the window, the cottonwood trees
are as naked as she is. Last night,

I saw the full moon in their limbs
and my thoughts let fall all their leaves.

I want the full moon to linger on me
the way I linger now on the narrow stretch

of her body, putting a shine on every
inch. She is lovely, God, she is lovely,

with her head flung back and her
arm flung high, staring at the world

with her unchanging eyes.
Through the window, I watch

as no birds fly from tree to tree.
The emptiness between the limbs

is empty. My thoughts grow
faintly green.

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Five Conundrums and an Invitation

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on December 7, 2014| 1 Comment »

haikulings inspired by Rumi’s Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi

spring after spring
though the Sun beckons Aloft—
ostrich imitations

(Divan xxix)

*

oh foolish fish
lounging in the desert
signing your name Sphinx

(Divan xxix)

*

low angled light—
an invitation to join
other dust and dance

(Divan xxix)

*

this old lap
heaped with titles, trophies, hope—
can’t stand, much less bow

(Divan xxix)

*

these wings—
they sure work when I take off
the dress hemmed with lead

(Divan xxix)

*

head in a sack—
hard to believe the body
is already holy

(Divan xxix)

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Five More Haikulings Inspired by Rumi

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on December 6, 2014| 1 Comment »

be the dry twig
cast into his flame
by your own hand

(Divan, xxi)

*

in one hand
a hundred thousand apples—
oh sweet fall

(Divan, xxvi)

*

they get in the way
of this pilgrimage into self—
the feet

(Divan, xxvii)

*

every tree
even in the most briny soil
bears fruit in his sun

(Divan, xxvii)

*

all that is mine—
this longing to lose
everything

(Divan, xv)

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How It Goes

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on December 5, 2014| 3 Comments »

Today, the gray holds us,
seems to touch us everywhere,
even the places impossible
to touch—a sorrow, a pining,
a thrill, a loss—and tonight, the dark,
it will hold us, too, in its infinite bosom.
And tomorrow, perhaps, the light.

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Perhaps It’s What You Are Thinking, But …

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on December 4, 2014| 2 Comments »

Do not say she is beautiful.
Say she is the engine, the fuel,
the rubber tires, the race itself.
Say she is the handle of the drawer,
the door’s brass knob, the lock unlocked.

Say she’s the path. The steepest road.
The cold when the sun goes down.
Tell her she is the infinite dark,
the orbiting moon, an eagle,
the relentless wind.

Say she’s galoshes, a garage door, the faint
scent of rain. The barren winter.
The nothing you can’t quite touch.
But do not say she is beautiful.
She’ll come to crave such dross.

Tell her she’s the twisted twig,
the beacon at the bay, the river’s
song when it meets a rock, the fog,
the leaping wild rose that blooms
and thrives any damn where it pleases.

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Gretel Explains Herself

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on December 2, 2014| 2 Comments »

all those crumbs I left
on the path, it’s not
that I want to go back

it’s just that I happen to like
birdsong wherever I go

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After Reading the Korean Folktale About Why There are Earthquakes, I Think of Marriage

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on December 2, 2014| 1 Comment »

It all falls down eventually.
The ivory tower, the concrete tower,
the mountains, the mesas, the happily ever,
the everything we know. Even heaven
begins to sag eventually. First one corner.

One corner is enough to alarm the king.
It all falls down eventually.
“Heaven is sagging!” he shouts
to his servants. “We must keep it
from toppling!” And so he commands,
as kings often do, his workers to make it right.
“Build me a pillar of copper, red,
and place it under the sagging floor
so heaven doesn’t fall.”

My dear, I have been the king.
I have tried to construct
a pillar, a grand one, to hold up any depressions
that slant our love. When we list, I build
the pillar higher. For a time it feels right.

But the earth beneath the red copper pillar
was only made of earth. And it only worked
for a while before the ground gave way
beneath the weight of paradise.
It all falls down eventually.
The king wandered the streets of heaven
in search of the strongest man.
Finding him, he cried, “Heaven is collapsing!”
And he ordered the man to stand on the earth,
feet wide, spine tall. He said, “Hoist
that copper pillar on your shoulder. Now stay.”

My dear, I have wanted to be the strongest man.
I have hoisted and held the pillar until
my bones have buckled, my spine warped.
It all falls down eventually.

After a while, even a strong man’s shoulder
grows tired and sore. After a while, even
the strongest man must shift a burden
to his other shoulder. And though he is careful,
though he wills himself to be solid,
the earth quakes, it trembles as he shifts
his weight. And though heaven stays up,
things on earth fall down.

My love, I am not the strongest man.
I have fallen down and brought heaven
down with me. My love, I have dropped the pillar.
I have seen the crash of paradise and felt
the weight of its rubble. I have seen the vines
grow up green amidst the wreckage.
We have walked these ruins together.
It is easier here to laugh. I’m no longer
frightened of falling. Heaven is no place for us.
Here, are your shoulders tired, too? Come.
Let’s lie down in this grass. Feel how the earth
reaches up to meet us. Oh love, what is this
beauty, I am trembling.

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