Tag Archives: poetry

Hypnos 160

Dew of humanity, drawing up and concealing its frontiers between first light and the emergence of the sun, between the eyes that open and the heart that remembers.

-Rene Char

Advertisements
I am a thorn enduring in the dark sky,
I am the one whom I have never met,
I am a swift fish shooting through the troubled waters,
I am the last inheritor crying out in deserted houses
I am the salmon hidden in the pool on the temple floor
I am what remains of the beloved
I am an insect with black enamel knees hugging the curve of insanity
I am the evening light rising from the ocean plains
I am an eternal happiness fighting in the long reeds.
. . .
The panther rejoices in the gathering dark.
Hands rush toward each other through miles of space.
All the sleepers in the world join hands.
-Robert Bly

Roll The Dice

if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.

if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.

go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.

if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.

do it, do it, do it.
do it.

all the way
all the way.

you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.

– Charles Bukowski

reisinger_2_1_o

What is undone, appears empty like a valley, matures slowly, in its authenticity, creativity appears imitative to its opposite, that which to overcome by moving towards a dialectic sense of silence, activity, tranquility are covalent in there return to end of  beginning.

Line 5 The use of emptiness reimagining

Between heaven and earth are a great bellows, in its emptying its retains its power, moved by the creative, not disturbed it sends forth presence, to much directive exhausts the mover, leaden grudges seal the passageway, your inner being guard it, keep it well and free.

The earth away, artifacts of dissimilar purpose, everything included everything, the flint knives and mammoth teeth, Plato’s eidos, wind remembers mind, both move over immeasurable distance.

-Josh Fleming, some words may have been sutured with my own, don’t remember the source from when it was written, thanks be to those that may have helped.

Image by: Dan Reisinger