Calamities, distant or vague

Bring tremors to the mind

Where do you want to be

When the sun goes down?

 

Can you be anywhere,

Ubiquitous like the sun?

But the mind though untrammeled

Can not occupy all spaces.

 

A fisherman bruised by absence of fish

Will pursue with ferocity

Any hints of trout presence

In whatever weather or distance.

 

He will not be deceived by color

Or pitch of whirling waters

Or exasperated by any sinking thought

The oars are focused, desire is steeled.

 

Does begin the intellectual incarnation

A reverence for beauty and truth

The universe forever expanding

I’m feverishly reaching for your hand.

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A moment before or a moment after

She has no troubles.

She has no troubled existence

She can’t immediately forget

She has many “for the first time”

she has not experienced yet.

The phrase ”for the first time” excites her.

How does it feel to sleep and wake in an ice palace?

She wants to spend the four seasons in different parts of the world.

She is almost seventy.

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A day

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Quietly your self worth diminishes

like salt on a pavement

your voice loses its tone, forgotten.

Who will remember you?

A shadow in a system.

You cry. New tide comes,

covers the muddy river bank.

The white egret returns.

You survive another day.

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Note: Last week Mrs. Abstract and I and our two friends toured Andy Warhol’s art Exhibit at MOMA in San Francisco, California. Very interesting.

Books I’m currently reading: Moby Dick by Melville and Paris, 7 A.M. by Liza Wieland, a novel about a young Elizabeth Bishop.

 

Kindness

Sometimes we walk in a painted drama

Or a recited poetry

Not hurried or loud

Like a leaf falling on a stream

There are things we don’t understand like shuffling papers

Or how we fold an umbrella after the rain

And we smile

We continue our walk doing crossword puzzles inside our heads

That’s how we miss dogs sleeping under the tree

One of us steps on his tail.

Where can light hide if it wants to hide?

Changing our names is like moving away, hiding or flirting.

Our eyes catch the light

Showering over a leaf

Like a prayer

Light has no tail or face

But a field, of attractions

A woman rises at dawn

An undulating line with three points

above and before the line’s endpoint.

Abstract inside reality

Reality arising from the abstract

Crisscrossing lines and several daubs of blue and red

Circles ascending and descending.

She rises at dawn

Pick some apples from under the tree

Art is simplicity, simplicity is art

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