A Tasty Truth or Two

Much as Loolu
Heads down the street
On the trail of
A chicken-bone 
So am I in pursuit
Of a poem or two
While ambling along
28th Street tonight

And with the benefit
Of sufficient illumination
Perhaps I'll manage
A phrase or two of my own
Along the way

As the Truth may be
Stumbled upon
Like some sliver
Or tasty fragment
Loolu has discovered
Down near the gutter
To be savored
Momentarily
Before resuming
Her way

Lullaby for 28th Street

 

When a symphony

Of hacking coughs

Troubles me long enough

Blocking the easy path

To a good night’s rest

It's a ratty old pair 

Of cotton sweat pants 

I avail myself of

In surrender to other music

Stirring in my chest

Three Poems by Wang Wei

 

I have recently translated a series of three short poems by the the great Tang poet Wang Wei.  If you are interested in learning more about these poems then please sign up for the free newsletter I publish intermittently which you can find here:

Tang Spirit Newsletter.

The Yu Gong Valley -

I.

 

Heading into a valley

Quite simply traveling

With nobody else

But Master Li

To accompany me

Nothing is needed

For either of us

Except a place to sleep

Empty and carefree

Content without regard

Whether it’s spring or summer

Or whichever way

East or west may lie

Unknowing

Just like a child

That’s how it feels

Lowly and lofty

At one and the same time

II.

A simple home

In a simple valley

A valley at first that

Looks so unbecoming

Although we travelers

Leave not a trace

Still the valley resounds

With an answering cry

And to a cloudless sky

Comes the onset of darkness

Followed soon enough

By day’s bright return

Here’s the true meaning

Of this place

In a simple valley

From simplicity itself

Everything else derives

 

_III.

 

_{To find this valley}

_{So lofty but plain}

_{Depends on nothing}

_{But a careful search}

_{Not looking all over}

_{For some remote spot}

_{Because this place}

_{Lies closer at hand}

_{Traveling once}

_{It can be reached}

_{Without much trouble}

_{But to abide in its presence}  

_{Requires greater depth}

_{Living by the word}

_{As mortality’s guest}

_{When desire takes hold}

_{It’s to this simple place}

_{The mind returns}

Change = Growth

Change Is Life
Growth Is Optional
Reads the poster
On the wall
Of my hotel room
With which I really
Feel need to take issue
Because nowadays it seems
Growth is not optional
In the least at least not
For those of us
With a mind and will
To survive

Monday Afternoon Weeding

This afternoon

In the backyard
Pulling at weeds
In more ways than one
I said to myself

In its perennial bounty 

This crabgrass is spreading
Like a gospel that  
Can't be overstated enough

As we partake of a story

Not fixated upon

Each individual’s demise

As an end in itself

But from the roots
A process unfolds

Continuous in its glory
Even if now I must
Address myself
To the annoyance
Of weeding 
On my hands and knees
Across the entire lawn

 

On the Tourist Bus Ride

"We are all here on this planet as tourists. None of us can live here forever." -- So says His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Here's a short poem I wrote that takes this tourist metaphor in a slightly different direction.

Wouldn't it be funny

If the business end

Of our journey

Through life and death

Really was arranged

Like a hop on hop off

Tourist bus for which

One ticket purchased would

Beget successive rides

Much the same way

We progress from

Dream to waking state

In similar fashion with

Each nap or lifetime

Providing further occasion

To disembark before

It's time to move on 

Lines Written on the Western Bank

Somehow we arrive

At the intersection

Of what we can afford

And what we dream

If we’re lucky that's where

We drive a spade

Deep into the loam