(1)
A day
Writing and sitting and writing and sitting and writing and sitting
And so on.
With others
Read the same poems but hear them differently
Read my poems and hear them differently.
Writing and sitting and writing and sitting and writing and sitting
And so on.
With others
Read the same poems but hear them differently
Read my poems and hear them differently.
(2)
Write
White
Lies
On a page
What is truth?
Where does it reside?
In a full bladder?
In a sleeping foot?
In a crystal Buddha?
Breathe in the smell of ink
Hear the sounds of pens
See people gathered around
A flower
A pile of bones
A towering vase filled with tears
Gaze raised to the silent eager faces
Intent on capturing the moment.
White
Lies
On a page
What is truth?
Where does it reside?
In a full bladder?
In a sleeping foot?
In a crystal Buddha?
Breathe in the smell of ink
Hear the sounds of pens
See people gathered around
A flower
A pile of bones
A towering vase filled with tears
Gaze raised to the silent eager faces
Intent on capturing the moment.
(3)
Be still
Feel the tension
Settle
Relax
Open slowly.
Feel the tension
Settle
Relax
Open slowly.
(4)
The sharp edge of sadness
Rubs against the grain
Slices through formal logic
And opens up my heart.
Rubs against the grain
Slices through formal logic
And opens up my heart.
(5)
The edge of the seat
Holds my butt
Suspended
Balls dangle against fabric
Cock trapped in the folds
Held back lest it spring forth with sensation
Crying for attention
Ignored
Shut down
The flow blocked
Drowning in silence
Holds my butt
Suspended
Balls dangle against fabric
Cock trapped in the folds
Held back lest it spring forth with sensation
Crying for attention
Ignored
Shut down
The flow blocked
Drowning in silence
Make room for quiet rage.
-- Larry Wolf (1996)
[Posted 2025]