In the night’s lonely darkness,
You search a felicitous phrase.
Waves sound like your words,
Rolling a sea’s dark loveliness
Searching words in its depths
As the sea thinks vastly in sky.
Soon, you’ll hear sun’s sound.
Now a body has all the words
For 3 A.M poem to take body
And words will form its shape.
Singing to next balcony in rare air,
Go on wringing hands in soap suds,
Hand sanitizers being short supply.
Soap kills a non- living nucleic acid.
We may sing song to inevitable sea
Wringing hands in soapy indecision
Death fear cannot be washed down
We can only run away from the self
Near the sea rocks where turtles lie
Dead on fertile mothering attempts
Their nucleic acids will be ash soon
In night’s crows from sun-fresh sky.
It was music by the old poet
While it was dream by other.
I am dreaming cloud on sea
With long shadows of boats.
It is the ars poetica by night,
My recollection in dark time
Within sleep atoms in pillow
Restless movements of wind
Blue sea holding on to mind
Deaths clinging to a memory.
There is dream of sky falling
You see holding from falling
It’s sun keeps smiling in heat
With cloud now broken free.
This monkey of a 1949 onward,
Now hears a loneliness of hum
Felt by poet stuck on dark line,
A precipitous rim of dark crater.
He does it on the cratered dark
Skirting a large presence of sea
A hum riding a top of dog bark
In a loneliness of canine blood.
Some day after that certain day
In 1949,when he arrived on rim,
Monkey shall hop in the crater
With surety of ash in river flow.
(After the poem Loneliness in Linden by Charles Bernstein)
Some times, it is how words ring
And how they make body numb
When brightness has just arrived
As flicker of recognition, a touch.
We are here inside ring of words,
Bright they are in summer noon.
Words ring in the memory numb
On gulp of electrolytes by mouth,
To help a memory’s capitulating,
Just a little, some more elements.
(Ring of Words is used in another context in R.L.Stevenson’s famous poem”Bright is the ring of words” but is nevertheless the image borrowed from it)
Now there is tax and death,
And future of cancer death
Certain from biopsy’s view .
The future and the past are
Only shadows of a thought.
There is good news for bad.
Nought is that it feels to be,
Death and taxes clear view.
Biopsy has tantalizing view
Slow moving cells are news.
In the prostate’s big picture
Love and death lie together.
(watching the Netflix series “The Kominsky method”)
There is song in life’s course
Rhymes a songster poet bird.
Wonder where it disappears
After a thick-armed woman
With a white of empty eyes.
We were here for three days
And who knows ,we may not
See each other another time.
That was very song released
In wide world of train sound.
As now I return home in train
I recall the thick-armed song.
