Saturday, October 11, 2008

found directive

"You are the dance,
and life is the dancer."
-Ekhart Tolle

We are because we are.
And life holds us
in its form--
glides
tilts
aches
and pauses us,
occasionally holding
our faces
to the audience
like apples.

waste and praise: definitions

I took this new title photo when I was out biking with friends, scoping out neighborhoods in a still unknown environment. It was a beautiful Sunday. We came to the river overlook in Brooklyn Heights. There were four men leaning over the railing. I'm not sure if you can see it in the photograph, but they are two conservative Jews and two priests, huddled and admiring the view.

Are they caught in a moment of praise?

As they look down at the highway and industrial site concealed from view, they must also see waste.

In our modern life where we have made so much waste, it is time to make praise. Must we also praise the waste?

praise: |prāz|
verb [ trans. ]
express warm approval or admiration of
to express one's respect and gratitude toward (a deity), esp. in song
Thesaurus: commend, express admiration for, applaud, pay tribute to, speak highly of, eulogize, compliment, congratulate, sing the praises of, rave about, go into raptures about, heap praise on, wax lyrical about, make much of, pat on the back, take one's hat off to, lionize, admire, hail, ballyhoo; formal laud.


waste: |wāst|
verb[ trans. ] use or expend carelessly, extravagantly, or to no purpose; [ intrans. ] poetic/literary (of time) pass away; be spent;adjective (of a material, substance, or byproduct) eliminated or discarded as no longer useful or required after the completion of a process
Thesurus [adjective]waste material: unwanted, excess, superfluous, left over, scrap, useless, worthless; unusable, unprofitable. Waste ground: uncultivated, barren, desert, arid, bare; desolate, void, uninhabited, unpopulated; wild.

The necessary byproduct of our existence; emotional, physical, intellectual, verbal, transcendental, unintentional, intentional. "Eliminated or discarded as no longer useful or required after the completion of a process." Is waste then the silence after a poem? The slough off of words?

We all create waste.
So let us all praise.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

a trap-door poem

Morning Prayer

Sun, find me behind these blinds, between
These construction towers of sugar and brick,
Find me among these bodies, these thin-armed plants,

Give me a decent chance to scream at the honking drivers to
fuck off, or at least a good shot at their yellow behinds as they
Skulk through crosswalks like teenagers when it's not their turn.

Tell me how once I was baptized your child by young and
naive parents in a high mountain stream,
Named in the good faith that I would stay close.