I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

31 March 2012

Oh listen — March tanka 2012

oh listen
sixties music softly
how she is here and now
and he is very far 


free morning
I don’t know what to do
with myself
so seldom by myself
leisure hangs loose and strange 


autumn equinox
a day of sun and showers
we get our hair cut
and make calls to creditors
tidying up for winter


when I was ten
my cousins from Burma
brought me a gift
a bamboo parasol
with a tip like a spire

I watch on TV
parasols in the crowd
blooming like hope
round the slender lady
smiling straight-backed

the golden spire
on the great pagoda
shines in the dawn
in old Rangoon city
I always imagined


‘My memory
is getting good,’ he says
childhood’s vivid details
but not last week’s movie.


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