We Call the Neighbor’s Fat Burro Donkey Hotei, but His Name is Cantinflas
Certainty grows in corners, away from light.
From his mouth issues the breath we take, the words we keep.
Enjoy the collusion of shape and sound.
We share the hummingbird’s taste for sweet, but not its fierceness.
Its heart beats 1,200 times a minute,
and you ask me how best to bury money.
Hotei’s name means cloth sack, and comes from the bag he carried;
a man of loving character, he possessed the Buddha nature.
What we own cannot be held.
Most plastics are organic polymers with spine-linked repeat units.
The space you’ve left expands exponentially.
Left in the rain, the bell grows.
Christen me at your own peril. Agaves flower once then die.
Fluency in silence.
I dropped my pants when the scorpion stung my thigh.
The wind takes nothing it does not want.
After vulcanization, thermosets remain solid.
The Cantinflas character was famous for his eloquent nonsense.
Vacuum wrap the bills in plastic, place them in pvc.
Having mastered imperfection, I turn to folly.
Not the thing itself, but the process laid bare and opened.
Hoping to hide, the scorpion scuttled under a boot.
Thought to action, whisper to knife: which is not a curse?
The wind wants nothing; the burro sings his loneliness.
My failures often lead to success. I’ve never quite completed this one, and don’t know that I ever will. But the first draft (nearly three years ago) set me off on a new path, one that has served me well. What more can I ask?
Sometimes I find a particular poem or story in me hard to end I rely on my heart to put me through. I hope it’s universal.
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Oh, I believe this is universal!
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It seems to be universal to me, booguloo.
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Arriba for eloquent nonsense! I love this poem, RO, and the path it set for you.
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Thanks, SJ. At the time it seemed very strange, but now seems rather ordinary. 🙂
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Love this–especially the title!
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Ah, poor Cantinflas! He’s moved on now, but has made cameo appearances in several poems over the years.
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Love the juxtapositions.
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It seems that I’ve moved further into that world…
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DaVinci never considered his works complete and left a host of commissions unfinished, just walked away from them. Always room for improvement. I’m not the one who needs to search for it in your work.
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Thanks, Michael. You’re right – always room for improvement!
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Actually, Robert, what I meant to type was that I’m thankful I’m not the one who has to search your work for improvement. One of your interviews persuaded me to feel free to go back and edit my work, seek improvement.For that I thank you.
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I worry about complacency, which may explain my constant tinkering with new forms, exercises , etc.
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I sure do like what you have here Robert. It’s really a story, one that isn’t finished yet, but one that has huge possibilities lurking in it.
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One of these days, George!
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“Certainty grows in corners, away from light.
From his mouth issues the breath we take, the words we keep.”
Powerful opening lines Robert. A vulnerability so profound, and so beautifully expressed
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Thank you, Teegee.
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“well, they often call me speedo but my real name is mr. earl.” the cadillacs, 1955.
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Ha! I haven’t heard that one in many years.
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Bob this one has had me laughing ever since I got up! Now, a few years downstream, maybe you’d like to work the name Ted Cruz into a second line (now missing) as a notable member of the ass family. *g*
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I would not want to insult Cantinflas.
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Excellent point! Forget I mentioned it!
Ron
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Oh I loved this poem. At first I didn’t understand, but by the end I was cheering you on. Eloquent nonsense, love it!
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Thank you. There’s nothing quite like eloquent nonsense!
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This poem reminds me of a state of mind. A state of mind that makes connections between the most unconnected of things. A state I hope to remember how to initiate or allow.
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My mind jumps around a lot (doesn’t everyone’s?) and I grab onto a thread or two and play with it. Sometimes it works…
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