My Gym Mates

Truth is a pathless land. —Krishnamurti
Every morning between 5:00 and 5:15 am, I arrive at a gym in my neighborhood, walk up to a desk and scan my UPC identity from my keychain. The attendant mumbles something I assume is “Good Morning”—I hope so, because I always say “Good [...]

Haiku Sonnet: The Thing Itself

The whole parts again,
and another unlikely
division makes cells
into a body—
disassembly, assembly
all at once. Can each
have a mind? Can each
live in its role so firmly
the play’s forgotten?
So it is with us
as we pass each other, snow
falling between us,
wondering if we’re part of
this life or its cast.

Whitewater

No one believes me when I say a girlfriend once broke up with me because I used too many metaphors and analogies, but it’s true. She felt I couldn’t take the world head-on—I only wanted to describe it in new ways.
“You aren’t really talking to me,” she said, “you’re [...]

Haiku Sonnet: Architecture

Any addition
and her block tower might fall,
but she keeps building—
half an arch projects
into air, a column points,
supporting nothing.
Sun through the window
spreads her tower’s crooked
shadow, created—
as by some insane
architect—to undermine
belief. She laughs when
one more stone topples the spire,
the whole parts again.

History and Literature Conjoined

The other day, I was teaching some poetry from Baghdad and Damascus to my freshman history class, and I started with a question: “Are history and literature more alike or more different?”
The awkward wording mirrors some of my own confusion—I’m not sure I really understand how to answer the question myself. Though I’ve [...]

Haiku Sonnet: Affixed

The world blank at last,
this snow has nowhere to light.
Each flake is a soul
borne by gusts somewhere
unseen.  I might’ve dreamt this storm
but it’s happening—
I’m passing through snow
untouched, a spirit not quite
in the right plane and
so restless nothing
touches it.  Why doesn’t white
cover me? Sometimes,
wet glue dries, refusing
any addition.

Little Doubt

A confession: sometimes I wander among quotations looking for ideas. Some other bloggers seem to possess a deep spring of subjects, but I’m always rocking the pump, lifting and pressing the handle hoping for at least mud. As much as I’ve practiced writing my way to a [...]

Haiku Sonnet: Onset

No room. For gathering
pain in her heart, she gets crowds
of strange visitors
who stay to witness
her end. Once she knew them. Now
she recalls the weight
of eyes. She pictured
one bed for all her lovers—
a final coupling
with them all—not this.
They lean into her vision.
They speak. She buries
herself not to see or hear—
the world blank [...]

Haiku Sonnet: Conservation of Mass

In a sky of souls
angels might wear wings, harps might
sing in flight, but I
hear unspoken words
calling atoms, commanding
everything to
return. Inventions
clutter horizons—I strain
to see beyond them—
and furniture blocks
every path. Strangers watching
snow from their windows
turn to take it in and find
no room for gathering
I’m indebted to a play I appeared in some years ago, Ionesco’s New Tenant.

Cold Mountain

It’s been some years since I’ve attended a poetry reading. I enjoy them, but I also struggle with my cynical side. I’ve been to too many readings that aped religious rites—the priest or priestess intoning prayer-poems until the final moment when the audience ohs like a flock of smiling pilgrims, [...]