Gan Yu - 24

A perfect antidote
To all this talk
About the Floating World
To spend the afternoon
Here in the garden

As the world turns
So do the worm and I
Working through the soil
From end to end
A journey bracketed
By dirt

Of our best intent
Much work remains
To be done
Leaving food for thought
But for the birds
Barely none

Spring Harvest

On April 23rd
We dined
On spring greens
With crisp asparagus
From the garden
Ramps from the swampy
Part of the back lot and
Broccoli di rape from a bed
That seeded on its own
Without the slightest prompting

I am aghast
At the plenitude
Of the Earth
So early in the year
Only a month or so
Since the last frost
And here we are
Enjoying a first harvest

Why I Write

It must pay to write

For some reason

About which I’m not entirely clear

If not for the income

I ask myself over

And over again

Why keep banging it out

Whether long form or short

These poems that no one

Cares to buy

Much less read

 

And then

As I was thinking this

And waiting

In line for

My chicken sandwich

I noticed this handsome

Couple sitting at a counter

Nearby and the man was

Reading Why I Write

By the late great

George Orwell

And it’s quite

Remarkable

Don’t you think

Or so it seems

To me

The QED of

Synchronicity

We encounter

Every day in

These midtown streets

And the answers

Happenstance

Chooses to provide

And it turns out

The only reason to write

As I learned from Akhil

Who learned it directly

From George himself

Is so that other people

May learn

Which is pure poetry

My friends

The way it comes

At you so unexpectedly

Sitting at Fresh or Pret

With a cup of coffee and

Sandwich in hand

So now I know

Why I write

The dharma of it
Right here and now

And for the next

Nine days at least

An answer 

Has been given

And received

The World's 40 Richest Now Combined

The World’s 40 Richest

Now Combined and Worth

More Than a Trillion

Screams today’s Yahoo! News headline

At least as tabulated by the

Bloomberg Billionaire Index

And believe me

Mike ought to know

He’s very good

At keeping track of

Such things

And I’m further sure

You’ll be happy to hear

That Prince Alwaleed

Has just joined the Index

There’s no secret to success

The Prince is quoted

As saying in an email sent

From his Arabian tent

Or perhaps from his chalet

High atop the Alps

It is based on a sound investment strategy

Commitment and long-term vision

The very principles

I should note

On which

I have based this

Hugely successful

Collection of free verse

* * * * * * * * *

Click here if you care to read the original news story on which this poem is based, written shortly after the story was published by Yahoo! News on April 19th.

Gan Yu - 20

Here in the Floating World

Reality maintains itself

In a highly volatile state

To a Nobel gas

Quite dissimilar

Ever ready to make

A phase change

Of one kind or another

Whether that means

Coming home drunk

Prepared to admit

To many mistakes

Or else quickly

Picking up stakes

And packing the

Calistoga wagon

In every case

To an uncertain future

We in the Floating World

Are forever bound

Come Whatever in May

If long term unemployment

Unfolds in five stages

Just like the Kubler-Ross

Model of dying and death

Then I must still be stuck

In the first stage of denial

Comforting myself with

The happy notion

That I haven’t yet

Started looking for work

So there’s no cause for worry

Not in the least

Call me idle

Or lazy

But to my

Present way of thinking

We humans all need

A moment or two

Of true respite

In the middle

Of life’s passage

Or else by racing through

Too far and fast

Our Infernos may never

Get written for want of

So much else to do

And sure

A sinecure

Sounds sexy

And even a job as

Barista if not barrister

Would help defray

Next month’s rent

But right now

I’m preoccupied

With a much more

Important task at hand

Namely dedicating

The entire month

Of April 2012 to writing

At least thirty poems

In just as many days

Tomorrow be damned and

Come whatever in May

An Aesthetic Experience in Philly

for Marissa


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Yesterday we rode

The bus to Philly

Seven dollars one way

Down the Jersey Turnpike

To see a Van Gogh show

That’s on display

In the Fine Art Museum

Dropped off behind

The 30^th Street Station

We crossed the Schuykill

And walked alongside heavy traffic

Down the broad green expanse

Of the Ben Franklin Expressway

Towards the Museum’s

Massive eastern entrance

An approach

Not quite as grand

As we’d enjoy

In Paris or even DC

But grand enough

To create a sense of scale

And the importance

Of the occasion

And prompting our realization

That long before reaching Rome

All roads lead to Van Gogh

At least for us moderns

* * * * *

We entered and paid

And waited on line

For twenty minutes or so

Before elbow to elbow

With tourists and matrons

We pushed our way into

The main gallery

To re-experience Van Gogh

Hushed and expectant

Upon entering this temple

I lingered before

The first few canvases

A little bit dazed

By a sunflower study

And a muddy

Pair of boots

Wide eyed

In the presence of

These incredible relics

Then in the gallery ahead

I found you my dear wife standing

In front of another painting

Vase with Cornflowers and Poppies

Painted in Paris in 1887

And you turned to me and said

The funniest thing

I guess everyone

Has a bad day

And I looked again

And saw it was perfectly true

For the first time in my life

I was looking at

An ugly Van Gogh

Not an easy thing to do

After the bus ride and the walk

And coming all this way

But there it was

Plain as day

Kitschy as the flower

Prints that used to hang

In my grandmother’s kitchen

Not to denigrate

The roses and irises

And dandelions that

Enlivened the walls just ahead

But we can only do justice

To such great art

By seeing things

Including Van Gogh paintings

As they truly are

And not as we have been told

Or expect them to be