The voice of the pheasant;
How I longed
For my dead parents!
~Bashō
Posts tagged "grief" — Page 5
Everything
I saw her scar today,
a prideful star basking in its curtain raising.
(Her black blouse had slipped too low.)
I knew about the cancer, she had told me.
I don’t know why I am surprised by that flash of flesh,
that red reminder of…everything!
I am not a mother. I have no mother.
I don’t want to stay here.
My interpretation of everything, tired refrain.
Rest!
Copper-coated copter flies with intention.
He knows just where he is headed,
no energy-bleeding, hope-wasting hither and thither.
His aim is there—
that slit of space formed by the incomplete union of two elderly deck planks.
The tiny-waisted tiny being glides inside.
Blackness welcomes him home.
Safe, safe, safe.
Rest! rest! rest!
(I know I am Nobody’s poet—And still!)
God, I want to be that wasp.
Last Words
Some accuse me of morbidity, their assertion supported by a scaffold of dark twigs; my fondness for cemeteries and storms, my ubiquitous clothing choice in the color without color, my reliance upon heavy literature, my collection of dying words. I wish that I might lend them my lens, an owl bestowing her nighttime sight to the worshippers of the sun, that they might see beyond the limits of labels to the radiant core of all—Beauty.
Who is it? Who is it?
~Billy the Kid
Does nobody understand?
~James Joyce
The sadness will last forever.
~Vincent van Gogh
A Prayer for Paris
Paris itself represents the timeless values of human progress.
Those who think that they can terrorize the people of France or the values that they stand for are wrong.
~President Barack Obama
Paris has long been my ideal. While I concede that my love for Paris is romantic, mine is not a postcard passion prompted by landmarks or lovers or croissants. It is true love, borne of reverence and gratitude for liberty pledged to tolerance and humane consciousness.