Puritano

Posts Tagged ‘fiction’

There

In Uncategorized on June 9, 2019 at 12:08 pm

Having lost the habit of being

I found myself in a new place.

It was emptier than the one before,

one had room to breathe.

There were walls all around

but I did not mind.

On the principle that expressing oneself

is good, I screamed at the walls:

“Once I too had a child!”

If anyone heard me, they gave no sign.

Somehow then, I was wandering down

streets that were quieter than they had a right to be.

On the outskirts of a nameless city I paused

to give a finely patterned moth a testament of sorts:

What we cannot imagine will certainly occur;

Have little faith in the deceptive shine of the world;

Endeavor not to recapture the butterfly years of

youth with the torn net of memory, etc.

I traveled on.

Nights I slept huddled at the base of statues

of figures whose names I did not know.

The buildings, bridges and roads had

fallen into disrepair, but I had lost all my tools.

So many crossroads, so many paths to choose from!

At times I sensed I was near the coast,

but I never saw the sea.

Were those years then that followed one another down

like autumn leaves?

I knew I was almost done.

In some forgotten valley I lay on my back

sky above, earth below, stream by my side.

Peace came then, combing her long black hair,

someone was drawing the curtain,

and I glimpsed home.

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Once

In Uncategorized on September 16, 2018 at 10:06 am

The Dead

In Uncategorized on September 9, 2018 at 1:49 pm

Sky

In Uncategorized on August 31, 2018 at 9:30 pm

Hammock

In Uncategorized on August 20, 2018 at 2:55 am

I Took My Pen

In Uncategorized on August 13, 2018 at 7:34 am

One Day

In Uncategorized on August 9, 2018 at 3:41 am

Flow

In Uncategorized on July 22, 2018 at 12:04 am

One cannot step into the same river twice

Mutters the old Greek

White foam filamenting around his wise gnarled toes.

Altogether elsewhere and yet

As a certain puckish Ulmster taught us

Caught in the same amber block of spacetime

My daughter, a good, sensitive child,

Lounges on our lime green sofa

Devouring Stephen King.

Her great-granddaughter, a formidable woman

Who has spent most of her life terraforming Mars

Is grinning at a risque joke as she zooms overhead in the night sky.

All that has ever happened is happening now

All that will ever happen is happening now:

Your dog’s trusting upturned face as you stroke him

The blare of the TV ad for sweeter breath

Rest snugly next to the flare of the first star turning on

Alexander’s charge at Gaugamela

The dying gasps of the last human who will ever live

Heraclitus stepping out of the cold clear stream

Turning his steps toward home.

In Rooms

In Uncategorized on July 6, 2018 at 8:02 am

God sees the truth but waits

In Uncategorized on May 13, 2018 at 8:43 am