[poems that collide]

      ***


There is a poem about poems that collide

Poems that connect laterally, support
a multitude of words in improvised holds
pushes underpins

Poems without a rule to combine them, juxtaposed
Poems that flood into each other

Poems that find a pattern to grow around
that grow into a tissue that vibrates
when poked by an accidental prey

--- [July 24th] [tiny edit Dec 2023]

Clara

      Clara


He lowered the curtains to curtail the blaze
as she entered, the Erklärung of the clearance.
A few bright stripes on the dance floor and beyond
that, Ame-no-Uzume, shining presence contained.

? dance miniature #2

      ***


Imminent immanence imagined
in the intricate intention
Undulation underpinned by
contracting and letting go
Bringing in and pushing away
Stepping forth and stepping back
The toes walk
The fingers bow
The ribs wave

[The first time]

      ***


The first time I saw you --
That glance I stole,
dressed up in the familiar.
We are what we wear -- the confident step
into a racing heart.

Laziness

      Laziness


The sky asked, but I didn't follow.
The tree asked. The grass.
The stone asked, but I stayed inside.
The memory of flying asked,
but I laid my wings. Who the stone,
who the winged man, who the grass.
The food packagings cram the table,
float the trash basket.
Lay down this day's slouched back.
Dream, and wake.

One quiet night

      One quiet night


In the meandering of a guitar
I touch a memory.
The hand glides along a corridor wall
into a tiny, dimly lit chamber.
One hand traces a rough metal stove,
the other unveils the blanketed entrance to a room.
The feet get snuggly.
On the left, a book case.
I leaf through Borges' stories,
recollections of a Dominican friar.
I step across the room and touch the guitar.
We sit down on the carpet
for the practice of Aikido control of the center
Suwari Waza Kokyu-Ho Musubi.
A guiding motion circles out
and I feel the touch wrapping around
and I feel wrapped in the gentle warmth.

--- [updated July 21st with B's help]

[sea lion]

      ***


In a forgotten sea, the sea lion lounges.
I meet you on the flea market,
you buy a statue of the Buddha.
There is nothing to see, the lion urges.
As you fade for the gift behind the linen,
you the lion's secret, even if I saw you again.

---
With help from DSJ.