Ikebana

leaf on stone

Ikebana (You without You)

Between frames, between presence and negation, authority.

If your body lies in the earth, why are you here?

Limits admired and sought: the way of the flower.

I pluck leaves from the lower half to achieve balance.

Shape and line detach, yet comprise the whole.

My father, awake in his chair, mourns quietly.

A naked twig forms one point of the scalene triangle.

Starkness implies silence, resonates depth.

Heaven, earth, man, sun and moon invoke your absence.

As you trickle through the interval’s night.

* * *

Ikebana is the art of Japanese flower arrangement.

chair

This first appeared on the blog in March 2016, and is included in my mini-digital chapbook, Interval’s Night, published by Platypus Press in December 2016, and available via free download.

For My Mother

Anna Marie Sewell rips open the morning with this poem. Perhaps we should all tend the garden.

prairiepomes's avatarPrairiepomes

April 17: Nocturne: Tiny Now

She is tiny now, my mother

and jokes in the morning, when

her teeth aren’t in, how she whistles

like a little bird. And i want to reach

back to the nights when

she brought the piglets in

laid them in the woodstove oven

so tiny, but she believed in them

and in that warm cradle, the spark

of life rekindled in them. How

do i cradle her? now

she is so tiny, softly

drawing nearer to

the Western Door.

This poem won’t do it.

This poem is for me

a piglet grown, with

my snout astonished

at discovery, how the power

that built a world for me still

reveals itself, blue

slight, soft, tiny.

My mother went home to God on May the 5th. I was honoured to be with her then, to recite for her the prayers she loved. One day, it will…

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Requiem II

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Requiem II

To say what becomes: this word
bends in the wind of our

breath. Is this too simple to
say? Our bodies gather yet retain

nothing. Numbers, phrases, the way
the ocean rolls. Once I saw
a whale at dusk. Or rather I saw its

tail part the water and disappear
into darkness, an answer too complex
and sweet for tongues to comprehend.

But waves seldom explain. Imagine
something nearby but beyond reach.

Think of clouds and shrines, consider light.

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“Requiem II” first appeared here in May 2015.

Go Make People Among Rain

Kerfe Roig steps up to the plate. She swings. Going. Going! Yes!

memadtwo's avatarmethod two madness

go make people s

Go make people among rain
gather kin beneath the storm
hold the lost and the forlorn
go make people among rain

Ask the echoes to explain
watch silence being born
go make people among rain
gather kin beneath the storm

Dance the circle round again
dreams enchanted into form

chords of color greet the sun
singing verse into refrain

Go make people among rain

On May 25, Robert Okaji posted his beautiful translation of Wang Wei’s poem “Apricot House”. He included the Chinese-poems.com transliteration of the original poem, and I was taken by the line from it, “Go make people among rain”.  Robert challenged me to take that line and make my own poem, which I did, based on a slightly altered Rondel form.

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My Poem, “Even the Light” Is in La Presa

 My poem, “Even the Light,” has been published in the May issue of La Presa.

 Many thanks to editor Lee Gould for taking this piece.