Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Four Tanka

170 / the cat paces the floor, wanting to fall out into the blue winter night air, not understanding my want of his internment
171 / unhinging his jaw, he slowly takes in the moon— the whole of it vanishing in one large swallow— in turn, darkness swallows him
172 / in early morning, shaggy ponies breathe out steam— stand in vacant fields— wild grasses startle and stroke up against their spotted flanks
On my son's magnetic board he randomly grouped instinctual words: boys, sea, quick, and green— due to the manner of the loose arrangement of letters, I pulled the following verse together:
173 / quick boys by the sea fall into greening waves of drag and weave, take their hard bodies beyond any limits— riding their life’s crest

1 comment:

  1. A treat for me to read tonight. I smiled with recognition at 170. My cats win - but wake me with howling and door scratching at 3am as they clamour to escape the frosts.
    I'm tickled by what your skill, a magnetic board and a few random words will throw up!

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