The Chinese Dragons, part 5

Man + DragonSpeaking to dragons is a great art,
To be seldom practiced.
A man who speaks often to dragons may
Become like a dragon.

 

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The Chinese Dragons, part 4

8114153510_498e05f556_kThe dragons do not seek out men.
They hoard their wisdom like jewels.
The least scale from the belly of a dragon
Might ransom any of the kings of men.

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How Those Boys Grew Up (Monster Slayer part 5)

Warrior TwinsFour days ago
These women dreamed in the sunlight
And now there are babies
Wriggling at their breasts.

Four days ago
These were babies crying
And now they are running everywhere
Playing huntsman.

Four days ago
These were boys playing
And now they practice shooting
And ask about their father.

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Two Women and the Sun (Monster Slayer part 4)

Georg_Pencz_-_Schlafende_Frau_(Vanitas) WITH SUN3 Changing Woman said:

Such a dream I had.
The Sun himself took me as I slept!
I would not have thought him
Such a careful lover.

White Shell Woman said:

I slept, and as I slept
Old Sun, that sly fucker,
Came down and slipped it in me.
I woke still wet.

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Huazi Ridge (after Wang Wei)

 

girl and birdsThere they go again, stupid birds.
They’ve been flying up and down the Ridge
All fall.
As if that would bring him back.

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A Natural History of Fairies, part 1

If you believe in fairies, they will show up sooner or later.
However, because fairies do not believe in Time,
They may come long after you have stopped believing in them.
In fact this is the most likely thing.

Fairies are both curious and easily bored.
They are fascinated by objects of all kinds.
For example, they are fascinated by clothes, although
It is a fact that fairies do not ultimately care for clothes.

However, because they are curious,
They may try on all of yours,
Then discard them on the floor next to the hamper
Or maybe somewhere else

Which is in fact the most likely thing, because
Fairies do not believe in Order.
Very few people know this about fairies,
Mostly they assume that fairies are just very hard to please.

 

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To Witness the Public Ceremonies of the Night

j

(a found poem, from the works of Washington Matthews)

It has lasted eight days before
the four singers,
after long and tedious instruction by the shaman,
come out
to sing this song.

Five hundred people are, perhaps, assembled
to witness the public ceremonies
of the night;

some have come
from the most distant parts
of the wide
Navajo
territory; all are prepared
to hold their vigil until dawn.

A score or more of critics are in the audience
who know the song by heart and are
alert to discover errors.
It is a long song,
and consists almost exclusively of
meaningless
or archaic
vocables
which convey no idea to
the mind of the singer. Yet not
one
syllable
may be forgotten
ormisplaced.
Ifthe slightest error is made,
it is at once proclaimed by the assembled critics,

the fruitless ceremony comes to an end, and

the five hundred disappointed spectators
disperse.
But
fortunatelythey are not as particular with all their songs
as they are
with this.

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Apologia for Slipping Off the Wobbly Pivot of Language While Attempting to Capture Something Vaguely yet Acutely Felt

Charles Wright bird

Q: What do you see as the future of poetry?
A: Oblivion.

Ever since I first noticed “my blood
setting out on its long journey beyond the skin”
I have been pondering that line.
I wrote it, sure, but

What the hell does it mean, you know?
Must be part of the dark speech of silence,
I guess.
But it’s here, and so are we.

So I keep rephrasing the question
Endlessly,
Hoping the answer might somehow change,
Becoming accessible.

Or at least that, you know,
It might make sense
One day.

 

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Things Have Been Thought About Enough, Already

Che Wright

In one of his first public statements after learning of his new post, Charles Wright said that, as laureate, “I’ll probably stay here at home and think about things… I will not be an activist laureate, I don’t think…I have no program.” 

I’ve seen you out there by the barn,
surreptitiously tucking away your meditative, image-driven lyrics
Between hard covers,
Thinking that absolves you, that it’s enough.

Well, no, goddammit.
I mean, really, I don’t have to explain it to you, do I?
God damn it, get out there and sell us some poetry!
Are you with us, or against us?

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A Dedication, Whatever; Followed by Breakfast

“I’m very honored and flattered to be picked, but also somewhat confused,” Mr. Wright said in a softly accented voice, after apologizing for the sound of buzz saws cutting trees in the yard that he has described in poem after poem.

“I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he continued. “But as soon as I find out, I’ll do it.”

Wright-at-RaesSince that first phone call
I’ve been somewhat confused, sure. But finally
things are back to normal, I think.

Anyway, I awoke this morning
then didn’t bother to get up.
The sun was shining anyway,
like always. So, I thought… after a while…
why bother
getting up?
I just lay there for a while,

thinking about nothing in particular,
and not wondering why things weren’t really going anywhere.
I don’t care about progress, anyway,
it doesn’t interest me. Never has,
even though I’ve somehow lived to see my seventies anyway. You see?
You don’t really have to try.

And really, why get up, after all is said and done?
Well, said, anyway.

Although, one gets hungry
eventually.

And the people at school aren’t really waiting for me to show up.
They already know where I am,
or suspect that I am
probably just lying in bed, or dead.

 

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