Throw it away, now that you've drifted across. Do you still need it? But how could you discard such a precious tool? Sure seems rude. When did I think that simply knowing was enough? Was I deluded? Form is emptiness. Likewise, emptiness is form. You know?
Tag: tanka
diptych
When the first cold wind
finds it way to your bones,
welcome your old friend.
Has there ever been
a better time for poems
than winter’s holding?
diptych
What have I “expressed”
if my words only stay long
enough to use me?
If “I” speak, why that’s
news to me. I always thought
it was just the wind.
tanka
Auspicious, to watch as a single yellow leaf crashes to the Earth. It happens all the time, but only when you aren't watching.
diptych (tanka)
Emerald luster fades as each new year passes. Will it shine again? I look out as dawn reveals the trees, and I'm not so sure. The moon is always there, concealed by the sun's light. More patient than me. What else might we find, patient, waiting for the light to dim?
diptych
Weeds were here before anyone thought to pull them. And why pull them now? Furrows ooze a thick, fertile scent. Can you smell it, on the tractor?
triptych
A torrent of new faces behind the trees, lost for the forest. Hints are all we can hope for, unconcealed in the revealing darkness. Pretend, just for now, that to dream and wake align. Where does truth live then?
diptych
Watch the leaves falling,
and say only that they tried.
Trite, to say, "next year!"
We inherit the
ruins inescapably.
And there we find gold.
diptych
Broadly speaking - but how else to speak? About things? Or about Things? I didn't want to feel poems intersecting me to speak. Alas.
triptych
Winter is the time for concentration. Howling storms; meditation. Seafoam air calls me from the ocean. Just a flavor of ion. Woods are not silent. Roots drink, insects crawl. Worlds stir. And traffic muffles.
The Burnout Socialite 