Thursday, October 10, 2024
For Marissa (on our anniversary)
Tuesday, June 18, 2024
Dreaming of Li Bai (by Du FU)
All day long
Rows of clouds
Drift across the horizon
Wanderers who will never return
But for three nights now
You have appeared
In a dream so vivid
I could touch your flesh
Briefly you spoke
About your long hard journey
Crossing rivers and lakes
In a small fragile boat
Fearfully tossed
By wind and waves
While the capital teems
With the rich and powerful
And their lavish gear
There you stood in the doorway
Scratching your silvery head
A sign of life’s burdens
A lone and haggard man
No my friend
There’s not a single cloud
In the vast heavens
That could withstand
The rigors borne by
Your weary old frame
Surely you’ll enjoy
A thousand years
Or ten thousand years
Of the greatest fame
But still for now you’re destined
For a lonely and distant grave
夢李白 (之二)
浮雲終日行
遊子久不至
三夜頻夢君
情親見君意
告歸常局促
苦道來不易
江湖多風波
舟楫恐失墜
出門搔白首
若負平生志
冠蓋滿京華
斯人獨憔悴
孰云網恢恢
將老身反累
千秋萬歲名
寂寞身後事
Thursday, May 16, 2024
But for Tomorrow (by Bei Dao)
time speaks
to the best part of me
come along for the ride
trying to put new meaning
in an old metaphor is like
pursuing carbon capture
after the fuel’s been burned
I mean it can be done
But at what expense
Is it even worth the effort of a poem
Monday, April 29, 2024
Not a Simulation
1. Go out in springtime and throw a handful of seeds on the expectant earth; then sit back to watch the show or else you can play along on your own with a spade and hoe;
2. Later on you gather up food scraps in a stand-alone pile and watch the rules run in reverse.
Play once through and you’re hooked; it ought to be illegal it's so highly addictive.
*****
I wrote this #haibun this morning at the community compost pile after emptying a few bins of scraps from the New Moon restaurant, which means another few weeks of full employment for the maggots and worms here in town. This compost is no simulation either.
Wednesday, April 24, 2024
A Spring Like None Other
There's no spring other
Than the present one
Rushing back to life
There's no time for regrets
About things left undone
There are only seeds to be sown
And always more shoveling
And to make the most
Of these daylight hours
We too must extend ourselves
A little further every day
That's what a growing
Season is all about
A season profuse in
Blossoms and meaning
When spring synesthesia
Everywhere abounds
Where daffodils flower
For three weeks straight
While the magnolia still
Remains in full glory
And just now the cherry tree
Has let loose a fusillade
Of white and pink
There can be no spring
Other than the present one
Thursday, February 15, 2024
The Mudra
The nervous system
Is xylem and phloem
For you and me as
Our vitality rises and
Falls like sap in a tree
And like an old rain barrel
A mudra is poised to capture
The downpour of light
As it falls from the sky
To be held within
However briefly until
It's released again to
Replenish the earth
Thursday, December 28, 2023
Sixty Six (by Bai Juyi)
Through sickness
And recovery
Strength has diminished
With age you feel
Time’s quickening
58 only yesterday
Today I’m 66
White hair
Adorns my temples
Like fine silk
The grass by
The pond grows
Far more thick and lush
The children have
All grown up
The garden now half
Filled with
Thick tree trunks
See how large rocks
Slide down the mountain
And the stream
Penetrates into
The bamboo grove’s depth
Even when there’s
But a slow trickle
It sounds
Like a mad rush
Though as long as
I’ve been listening
I have not yet
Heard enough
六十六
白居易
病知心力减
老觉光阴速
五十八归来
今年六十六
鬓丝千万白
池草八九绿
童稚尽成人
园林半乔木
看山倚高石
引水穿深竹
虽有潺湲声
至今听未足