FOR THE SAKE OF LOVE
Intelligence struts to ridicule all
But no one can beat an Indian starling
Or a Greek adorned with a harsh yet beautiful syntax
Pansies shine in the corner looking quite sensible
Like dark lipstick, bright fingernail polish and a single silver earring
On Wednesdays pay attention to small details
PINOCCHIO
As wooden puppets move their heavy jaws
We wonder if they smoke dragon candles on their days off
Trying to overcome bashfulness that eats them up like a teredo
And makes the hole between human lips that blow the air that propels the sound of words
'Don't forget the essentials, my heart: earth, water, air and freedom to bring fire
'And never forget to caress forever the beautiful blush that tints the face of love.'
LOVE LETTER
Love letters are the preserve of living art objects
Strawberry preserves are as old-fashioned as snow of summers past
Starlight in full sail provides the candle-power flowing through your hair
Yet no one can tell where is it going and why
The secret of growth principles is that they are forever a secret
So no one can be bothered to ask: 'What's the point?'
BEHIND THE GLASS DOOR
Sinking fingers deep into the impalpable black
The indeterminate ear hears whole the pleasure, peril and task
Of being just that: ear, fingers and nothing more
One on one, one in one, one with one, plus one 'and' one
That's easy, there can be no mistake
Where all is in error, everything has to be right.
TRUE TO THE CORE
An alphabet glitters, laughing like a star-field in the dark
Does it matter what alphabet it is?
The alphabet of a language you do not understand
Or the one you try hard to forget
In other words, the one that comes to you most naturally
Will never offer you anything you didn't ask for.
CAN WE HAVE OUR COMPASS BACK?
'Whites start and win' announces the pawnshop sign
To contest in words whether men invented gods, or if gods made us
And the truth as always hides somewhere in between keeping mum
We stay silent about what we know, but speak without end of what we know not
Gods and men are one, while women
Know better than to take either seriously, possessed always of their own true fullness.
HOME AGAIN
With all the years in this body lived
The knowledge of the hedgehogs and of squirrels
As like the quickness of all small mammals on which I would stake my soul
To feel in their brittle bones the nearness of flight
And walk modestly barefoot through the grass when sky is blue
For 'nowhere' is the only direction the compass needle shows for those who seek.
YES?
Who knows what mock orange scorns more than anything in the world
'For example,' oranges know that they are orange, in honor of the sun
Examples mock those who think they are exemplary
Do fruits believe in God, or is their sweet juice just 'creatio ex nihilo'?
Is there a contradiction, by the way?
Only by way of confirming that the center and its circumference are the same.
THE WORD, THE WORLDING
The place of the soil where the soul grows
Unscored on celestial maps of the Netherworld
Shines with slivers of shattered quartz, or stars half-buried in the ground
Be careful when you gather them in the palm of your hand
For they are as sharp as the eyes of a hawk
Watching the movement that doesn't make sense in a sentence.
THE GIFT
What kind of being is being on time, asked earthworm
The ones that hold out against oxidation, said a voice upon the air
Are different from those who thrive on the emotions of despair, but
Wishing to rust is the surrender of trust! Certainly, we can
Prevent late chrysanthemums from losing the ground
Let them swallow the air as the earth gives them birth.
IS THIS HOW HEGEL THOUGHT WE SHOULD LIVE?
Who was it throwing words on the wind like a scarecrow talking to sparrows
It was ravens screeching at the moon from desire, my love
'Never ask a question that you don't know the answer to’
The answer that there has never always been a question for
Told the wind to the dry bough
Because although pine cones probably, you rarely find doughnuts in the forest.
NEVER ASK WHAT IT IS
Yes. * [this is not the first line. Although it 'could' be.]
Actually, it was. In the beginning there was 'Yes'
I want you to do me a small favor: When I know what it is, I'll ask.
[So it 'is' the first line? Can be, quite naturally. Let's make it so.]
The poem is writing itself like the world does.
Yes. The favor I didn't know the details of, has already been completed.
A PEARL IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD
I feel like I'm going to faint every day in the past right now
Told white chrysanthemum to the cloudy water in a glass.
A cloudy wall in the grass is something to talk to when it gives me notice
This is the only thing to do when there is nothing to do.
Except 'when always with nothing to do' went and watched Melvin Wills shuck oysters
And that is just the thing to which I do not know how to relate.
MOSTLY IN ALEXANDRIA
Like a swarm of toy terriers in the clover
No one knows what will come next
And the cleverest of all don't even bother to look forward
They just knock at the nearest door
To ask for direction to the Temple of Misunderstanding
Where the note on the table says 'Have a seat: You're already here.'
LOVE
What effort does it take for grasses to grow?
For the umpteenth time the air questioned the earth
Water stood by and laughed, as rain, while the sun waited for clouds to clear
The grasses sang something tuneful all along, they didn't care
In the meantime, photography was invented
It sealed my fate.
NOW FOR THE TRUE PART
A rose by any name won't be a rose
Nor necessarily even a flower [the name will be a word]
in the absence of attention or any other irreversibilities
Flowers make seeds that grow plants that make buds that always burst into flower
Sea is a constant reminder of the simple truth
We are just here, put together by constant motion, and remaining so.
THE BENEFITS OF HIBISCUS FLOWERS
In the easiness of touch, what do I expect?
Some kind of obstacle, I guess
I expect nothing but feel perpetual enchantment
That goes unnoticed in the superior nature of the eternal obstacle
Naturally, love will be complicated even when there are no people involved
And even more so in that case.
WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND IS GOING TO ANSWER THAT PERENNIAL QUESTION
The shadow of lavender sprig on a canna leaf produces the crisscross of illusionary life and of
Having gone crazy eventually, in the strain of holding hands under the sea
Otherwise known just as dry air without boundaries or restrictions
Can we call it 'breathing'? We're 'under quarantine, after all, those of us who 'don't vote'
Why not if there is nothing better? Words are like that in their overbearing irreplaceability
No end of temperance to legacy: 'Hey man, why'd you cut the engine?’
IS LOVE MEANT ONLY TO SEEK ONE'S OWN GOOD IN THE BELOVED OBJECT?
My star is a hibiscus flower. Let’s see how this works out.
Sawing the wrist with a blunt razor blade could I imagine the aftermath?
We often see red when the sky is blue but not a flower
The mathematics of the human eye are closed for a winter season
Glass was once just an idea that no one had thought of yet.
And transparency was not supposed to be discovered
