Mortality

as viewed from Manly headland, Sydney

Favourite Verse

I have read every poem in this book.
I would open the book at any page
And read whichever poem was shorter
Or appeared easier to comprehend

The book was organised by theme, not author.
So I soon learned which sections I liked best;
At the beginning was Love, then Nature.
But I would always turn towards the end.

For there lived Contemplation, Time and Death.
Somehow I gravitated to the best,
Judging by the titles, the dates and topics,
Structure and Form, in time by the author

Eventually I decided to read
Every last poem, cover to cover
And I discovered that I like Keats less
But Yeats more, having seen them better.

A little old-fashioned, too many sonnets.
But many creases tell my affection.
And if it had never been given me
Then I would never be writing these lines.

Inhale

i think its innes, but i can actuallly remember who this is...

i was gratified (3)

i was gratified
to hear you talk to me
today though i still find it hard to imagine why
you spend time on me you are one of those
people who seem too nice and more kind to me than I would
expect even predict or understand
not that i complain of course i simply tell you because it puzzles me
i was gratified to hear
you talk to me because
this signified i was not to you totally
insignificant and still worthy of some comment you may even have walked
all the way over for the prime purpose of saying a few
words to me both times the conversation was initiated by you
and yet
i do not feel altogether
happy with this turn of events not from any fault of your
own but merely from my own incompetence and inability to deal with the
actuality of talking to you and
more than that you talking to me so i did not reply
adequately though i may have replied
politely and sensibly the point is that i did not reply in a way that would lead
the conversation on and in anyway disclose
my thoughts and feelings toward you so that i might have appeared
positively hesitant which is certainly
not the case so i was displeased to find that as i thought
i am inadequate to you and generally i
fail as per usual nevertheless
i still came out of that encounter with a newfound
respect and energy for the day so
i cannot help but feel the encounter was positive

fun with stream-of-consciousness. stupid blogger has the margins too thin.

Untitled

or, Cologne Station Ceiling

after sun, after rain

In winter,
i wished for spring.
now it is spring,
what will I wish for in summer?

Daffodils
newly come
but trees still bare;
yellow seems incongruous.

Early spring
was always thus?
seems strange time
when birdsong brighter than sky.

Grass already green,
winds still blow,
daffodils bend
but yellow for me is not yet hope.

Under cloud,
i do not believe.
under sun; summer will come:
trees green and no leaves underfoot.

Ribs for the sky

Progress

tokyo

What choice do i have

What choice do I have but to look at you
Every chance that I get. Do you think I planned
To stare until your radiant cheeks grew red?
I wish now I had never caught your eye

But who can blame me, when it is obvious
You cannot be ignored. Or so I believe
Though other men’s tastes be different, there is
Something about beauty which resonates

Do not feel the need to smile at me, it is all
Quite hopeless. Leave me to my folly,
We only embarrass one another.
But if you would truly show me some kindness,

Turn your face to profile. I have seen more
Sculptured features in statue and film,
But I would never give the name beauty
To one I had not seen in the flesh

As I give it to you. God preserve me
From such foolishness, and remind me of
Shakespeare, who believed Virtues flew t’ward beauty
Like moths to flame. Juliet could have been a

Witch, for all Romeo knew. Therefore I ask:
What right do you have, to make credible
Such preposterous notions of beauty
Which are dangerous to entertain.

i thought this was soppy crap, but my advisor disagreed, so here it is

How Do You Sleep At Night?

Like a stone worn past memory of what it was?
Like the putrid lake that will absorb anything?
I do not care whether you uncovered your evil or absorbed it
I wish you death tonight if your conscience allows you to sleep.
Tomorrow the partisans will drag your body through the town
Saintly widows will spit on you
Rabbis will piss on your face
Mothers will tear at your skin,
And tell their children to beat you with the soles of their shoes
You shall be taken to the telegraph wire
And hung upside-down with your whores and your cronies
While young girls cheer, and old men say to one another:
Justice has been done.
And all around the church bells begin to ring,
Because now we can sleep in our beds like brightest jewels
At the bottom of clear mountain lakes.

at last, a new poem.

The Tokyo International Forum

my favourite peice of architecture

"Inspiration is a jealous and impatient mistress"

Inspiration is a jealous and impatient mistress.
If you scorn her, turn away when she comes to you, she will not be quick to return
She has no time for tomorrow, for later, for just-a-minute and after-this
And if you try to force her, she laughs at your advances, and scorns your impotence
But if you sing for her, she will come

not really good enough for the blog (yes, i have done even worse poems), but what the hey, i'm running low on poetry to post

Cathedral

Nikko, Japan

Men Dancing

There are only three reasons why men dance:
1. They're camp
2. They're drunk (or stoned)
3. They're looking to get in with one of the girls

And of course, by the time you're drunk enough to dance, you're too drunk to stand up!
So it is with me, anyway.

Liftoff

tom