Saturday, June 8, 2019

DIRTY OLD TOWN ~










STEVE CASTRO ~





Polar Opposites
                                      __________________________





I just rose from the dead.



"Do you feel tired?" I asked.



A little. I'm also hungry.



Then she hugged me.



"Are you hugging me because I'm about to take your place in the afterlife?"



Maybe? I could also be hugging you because I like you.



"I've never dated anyone who was previously dead before."



I've never dated anyone who's about to die.



"How long do I have?"



Still embracing me, she looked into my eyes and then I knew that we

would kiss. Kiss we did. Her mouth tasted of flowers that had been

placed inside a coffin. I started crying.



"I can taste death in you."



She started crying as well. I wiped the tears from her eyes.



"I wish I didn't have to die," I told her.



Your wish is my command, she said.



Then we lived happily ever after.




__________________

Steve Castro
Blue Whale Phenomena
Otis Books
Otis College of Art and Design
2019







Thursday, June 6, 2019

XHIN (VENT) ~











PETER SCHJELDAHL ~














I remember Schjeldahl's poetry in the late 60s
one of the many poetry brats of the young
and zestful New York Poets scene
(after Ashbery, O'Hara etc)
— the poems were puzzle pieces
and since then, the art criticism has been
anything but. I followed his art writing
in the Village Voice, 7 Days, and for years
now in the New Yorker. It's much better fare than
the poetry the magazine now publishes.

A note on the book — Schjeldahl takes care of
his job and comes through marvelously. The book
design is a bit bland, though brightened 
in a de Kooning yellow, but too bad being
Abrams, an art house, they didn't slip in a feature
of art work, artists photographs etc.

[ BA ]





Wednesday, June 5, 2019

"LITTLE SUN" ~






1939 ~ 2019









RENGETSU (Otagaki Nobu, 1791-1875) ~

    




 from Lotus Moon





Blackened Thing


Another year passes:

On my kitchen shelf

Something blackened

With soot —

A little Buddha image.






Seeing Young Nuns On
Their Begging Rounds


First steps on the

Long path to Truth:

Please do not dream

Your lives away,

Walk on to the end.






When People Tease Me About My
Constant Change Of Residence



A floating cloud,

Drifting about

Playfully

Here and there

Not wanting to fade away.







The Oni



Do not resist, (Mr. Onu):

Open the lotus inside

And overturn

All those demons

In your heart!






Heart




Coming and going,

Without beginning or end,

Like ever changing

White clouds:

The heart of things.






The Pleasures of Calligraphy



Taking up the brush

Just for the joy of it,

Writing on and on,

Leaving behind

Long lines of dancing letters.







Incense Burner



A single line of

Fragant smoke

From the incense stick

Trails off without a trace:

One's heart, as well?







A Life of Retirement



Reside in a living landscape

And it becomes yours:

Daikon dry along the fence,

Trees full of chestnuts

Brush against the eaves.






Thoughts While Making
A Flower Pot



Dew and butterflies are

Attracted to flowers of

Certain scent and color:

Do they have

Favorites too?







Digging Clay And Making A Vase



Taking the fragile

Little handmade

Things to sell —

How lonely it looks

In the market place!




_________________

Lotus Moon
Rengetsu
translated by John Stevens
White Pine Press
2005















Monday, June 3, 2019

Sunday, June 2, 2019

THE VERY BEST OF JULIA LEE ~












ROBERT LAX ~






one bird

two birds



one bird

two birds



two birds

one bird



two birds

one bird



one bird

two birds



one bird

two birds



two birds

one bird



two birds

one bird



one




~




"are you a visitor?" asked

the dog.



"yes," i answered.



"only a visitor?" asked

the dog.



"yes," i answered.



"take me with you," said

the dog.




~




every

night

in the

world



is a 

night



in the

hospital







The Angel
and the Little Old Lady



an angel

appeared to

a little old

lady



& said:



would you

like a

wish?



for my

grand-daughter,

said the little

old lady:



that she grew

up to be a

beautiful young

lady



& marry a

nice young

man



two wishes,

said the angel,



would you

like another?



whatever other

good thing you

can think of,



said the little

old lady

the girl grew up

to be a beautiful

young lady



& married a

nice young man



after a year or

so, a child was 

born to them



(the angel's

idea)


- - -


now the old

lady was

quite a bit

older:



the angel

appeared

to her again

& said:



would you

like a

wish?



for the

child, she

said



that he grew

up to be a

handsome

young man



& marry

a nice

young girl



two wishes

said the angel,



would you

like another?



whatever other

good thing

you can think

of,



said the little

old lady




_______________

Robert Lax
33 Poems
New Directions
2019








Saturday, June 1, 2019

PHILIP BOOTH ~








Half-Life





3:00 a.m. Back

from the bathroom,

I've lain awake

for an hour. I

was all right at

2:00, most of me's

still O.K. My feet

are down at the end

of the bed, they and

my head and testicles

still seem to be

the right size. But

my hands, clamped

shut like a baby's

fist, are big as

a catcher's mitt,

each thumb's as big

as a fat man's leg.

I can't get any

sound up from my

throat. I grab

for breath, trying

to cry out.

                   Though

she has been dead

for half my life,

my mother — all

her illnesses

still intact — leans

her softness

over my crib,

and tries with-

out words to

hold me. She

tries and tries

to hold me.




_______________________

Philip Booth
Pairs
Penguin, 1994








Friday, May 31, 2019

HANNE BRAMNESS ~

 






Paul Klee pictures
                   _______________



Sketch of a street in a town



The man's fine limbs

black lines

       running from

     bone to muscle

plaster is tendons

          tension is stone







Vor dem Schnee



I have seen the kingdom of

air so stiff

           darken and

the trees

so wild in the wind

                      continuous

    one line only

and softer colours

   before the snow

fell







The thirty-six hours before the air is softened by

snow  

       An ice lake

       a day

       clear and grey



Pictures look at us from that

painter's workshop

                      the park resembles Van Gogh

resembles what we see when we

                              look back







Gate of the deserted garden



Turn

    black earth     red earth

    learn to love

                  a human  animal  vegetable world

with the uproar of

       death




__________________

Hanne Bramness
Salt on the eye
Shearsman Books
2007







      

Thursday, May 30, 2019

LEON REDBONE ~





L E O N      R E D B O N E

[ 1949 ~ 2019 ]






JAMES KOLLER 83, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JIM! ~






James Koller had a bunch of kids, all great kids, and I know most of them simply because their dad brought them to our house to meet them, and them us. It was that simple and familiar. Nothing like a visit!

Here is a message today from Bertie, Jim's son, a fine musician and craftsman, and while he is celebrating what would have been his father's 83rd birthday, he would like us to, too.

So get along.

[ BA ]



____________________

Hi all. 
In commemoration of what would have been James Koller's 83rd birthday today
I've added his reading of Brainard & Washington Street Poems 
to the collection at jameskoller.bandcamp.com

Enjoy,
Bertie

IMG_0686.jpg

NOT A PRETTY PICTURE ~




Sidney Lumet



Everyone needs an arbiter. The best of us carry one in our heads. It talks to us, and if we are lucky, and even wise, it tells us “go left”, “go right”, “stop at the curb” etc. Robert Mueller, “the Marine”, turned out to be, in the long-run (over two years) nothing more than a double-speak lawyer in love with double negatives. I can only imagine the throngs in train and airport terminals with CNN on in all the waiting room coveys and people, after double-speak Bob spoke, asking, “What did he say?” or “What does he mean?” Thanks, Bob. And for not being the arbiter. If you aren’t, then Barr and the Rat are, and they have been wisely busy at this. Same time, it’s more than curious the very Democrats who are shaky on their feet are from New York (Nadler, Schumer) and without a doubt, by their actions, I see two cowards nervous what the N.Y. Rat has dug up about them and will have no hesitation to use; ditto Pelosi — certainly only a guess what he has dug up about her past and personal life. A woman, of course, is his favorite scapegoat. The Rat will use it with great entertainment. Congressional Committee Chairmen Maxine Waters, Cummings, Neal, Schiff have little of this fear. The Rat may also have something on Mueller. I watched The Verdict last night for the 10th time it seems, never tire of this film or Sidney Lumet’s films, and one sees precisely how the Big Boys work. TCM has been running film after film the past months dealing with themes (unannounced) lined up with the actions of truth (lies), Justice and the American way. 
It isn’t a pretty picture.



[ BA ] 



JERAH CHADWICK ~







After the Aleut 


Say a woman once stepped

from volcano steam, or a man

from the sea, desiring

to live among us.



Or that the storms once settled

leave drift logs and whale

for kin to apportion — even

volatile forces nurturing,

who would claim they are not related?



Tanaang Awaa, Aleut storytellers

began: This is a creation

of my country. Each tale

a twining of familiar

and strange, and at each telling

the lit faces, the lamps

drinking from their own

darkness, the everyday

and ancient rewoven.



Listen, even now wind

tries the door. Cold presses

its face to the glass, only the window's

delicate lacing of breath between us.



Say the wind envies and would remain,

that cold too steals

around our stove for this reason. Wood enough

for the night and more

beached and curing in the blasts. Imagine

the cabinet's rattling, this pulsing

of the floor as dancing.



___________________

Jerah Chadwick
Story Hunger
Salmon, 1999