there's got to be more below the surface
As if she has been here for millennia
calmly chewing grass, the buffalo stands
in an open field below the mountain.
Aware of the biting fly and herself,
but little else, she still provides so much
into the life of the poorest village.
What difference can the monk’s laughter make
to her as it echoes through the valley?
(May 14, 2022)
Caught in ecstatic wonder
the young girls make love
with tempestuous abandon.
While he follows the rules
of the old games, he’s mocked
for his sad delusions:
In dream’s river, the two
drowned consorts come to him
with promises of consummation.
Thus he becomes a cuckold
to himself, looking for coins
beneath a withered willow.
(May 12, 2022)
The ascendent moon
negotiates the chase tree’s
dark-twisted branches.
_________________
There are moments
within moments
within moments,
a slow descent
into the repeating
heart of the lotus.
Sunlight takes on
a clarity which radiates
from all it touches,
as shadows sharpen
themselves against
the light’s keen edges.
From the river bank,
the water glistens
like distant laughter,
while we stand still,
watching, between heart beats,
the river rush past us.
(May 10, 2022)
In the slums, obscene songs
are heard from the Heights.
As children we mocked them
with songs they now sing.
There is no recompense
between the rich and poor.
Unlike a baptismal font,
blood does not absolve blood.
The dead cannot hear
their mournful lovers’ tears.
(May 10, 2022)
He slips through the dusty streets
delaying his departure from sorrow.
What wisdom is
this wisdom?
The Sorceress’s warm breath at his ear
softly offers her seductive charms.
What wisdom is
this wisdom?
The priest offers redemptive prayers
in patterns to protect him.
What wisdom is
this wisdom?
At both the chancery and brothel doors
he laughs like a nascent breeze.
Which wisdom is
his wisdom?
(May 9, 2022)
I tell you my truth;
so does he, but his is a lie.
Each morning we both shit,
take a shower, drive to work.
The mundane slaps my face,
as if waking to a wet bed.
In the tea house’s simplicity
the same tales are told nightly.
(May 7, 2022)
We delude ourselves with thought,
with the sound of rain, like tears,
outside, as a new song begins
across the mountain. Change begins
with Heaven and Earth. War separates
us. Yet, for how long? War and duty
separate us. We may never lean
again against the other through the night.
The moon sets on me here tonight,
as it does with you where we parted.
(May 6, 2022)
subtext