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Literature Text
flicker hither, winter’s ending,
making us a memory, a mockery of bending.
how are you now
gassed and passed out,
slowly climbing ladders that point down?
flicker, shiver, hint at running.
make of me the king of dreams, another lover coming.
how was i then
near the deep end,
knowing all the while i could not swim?
making us a memory, a mockery of bending.
how are you now
gassed and passed out,
slowly climbing ladders that point down?
flicker, shiver, hint at running.
make of me the king of dreams, another lover coming.
how was i then
near the deep end,
knowing all the while i could not swim?
Literature
105
I see flashes of who we were, are, could have been
As though reflected in the windows of passing metro trains.
You cannot tell me you love me in your own language,
a language too serious for people like us,
but I see it in your every movement.
I am not so reticent.
I take my heart from my sleeve and pin it to yours.
Chasms pass between us, and doubts circle like wolves,
and we build our bridges and we light our fires,
but I would consume the moon
if it meant you would howl only for me.
Why are we here? My love?
Literature
Sand Mandala
One grain at a time
Is how I treated our days together
Each color of each grain
I studied the Tibetan monks—
Their deliberate lean over all that is
The chants that made and moved stones
With the authority of time
The geometry that melded with song and soul
To emerge in carefully placed vibrant pigment
Colors that seared in vision
What a blink or eyes closed in dream still saw
Look away—they’re still there
In moments of silence
A ghost of something, but
Bright shimmering
Essence
Deepest reverence
All things
Everything was there
Each grain
Each color
Handled
Placed—the math, the experience, the grandeur
Intended t
Literature
Moral Letters to Lucilius
My dear Lucilius.
Once again I encourage you to ponder
The virtues of temperance
And tranquillity.
My dear Lucilius.
Long have I written to you incessantly,
And told you tales of brave souls
That you might copy them.
We are both making great progress.
My dear Lucilius.
Our friends tell me
That in your party nights you pass by my house
And sing just a bit lower
So as not to wake me up.
I have indeed a light sleep,
Though not from cares,
But from the light electric the gods
Planted inside me,
In my spirit,
And that keeps me up at night
While I write to you.
My dear Lucilius.
Tell me news. Some say
That every night you sing
Until your lips stiff
Suggested Collections
flicker. written march 6, 2000.
© 2008 - 2024 tigereverskin
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This flows something wonderful.