poems

Poems for whoever

number 2

Meeting on a bench outside St. Luke’s, and then buying a ticket, and then listening to transformational spectrality sat on two chairs, a lemon width between us.

A beginning

The turn of an eye, like the curl of the corner of a leaf that turns the page is a beginning that begins again. From the edge of knowing to enlightenment, or simple seeing,

Elements

Turning rooms upside down, rearranging the way we live seems a natural thing to do when we give way to petty griefs. The frustration of what wasn’t, a proximity that came so close.

number 3

There are 3 kinds of true; the evident, the unwanted and the wrong. Intellect reveals the first, emotion the second, and time the third. I was wrong on the first two,

number 4

Like a thorn left from a brush with a rose, an irritation remains. This silent contempt of calm returns unrest to equilibrium and leaves me