Bewilder

Winter King 

Mein Flügel ist zum Schwung…

Is it His words you desire,

          His icy breath?

Dust of our dust spared

          because the Winter King

loves this glacier He sleeps atop?

          He hates the Christ

as much as He loves

          His crow, Desolation,

who chased us

          throughout the city,

now, reduced to ashes.

          Our homes no longer

have numbers,

          and our streets have no signs

nor do our lanes.

          If His crow resumes,

we will have no lovers left.

          Konvalinka could bloom

over our graves

          this month. He will never

be joyful if we

          survive this May—

if Desolation blesses us

          —even our ghosts He despises

—if Desolation 

          could eat ghosts,

          everything else

          might reappear. 

Changeling 

     Hot iron stings,

then singes faery fingers.

Once babes are exchanged,

     crib gates again tighten.

Time's chariot

     wheels its wheels.

Spring but snowing

as the Winter Queen

carries her new pet

     beneath the hill.

Her courtiers marvel 

     at the little man. 

Meanwhile, faery babe

     poos gold.

Orzeł 

Ravens share

     auspices

when singing 

          while I

          fly my

     prophecies.

I herald.     To clear

a path.     I roost no

more.     I watch.

I seer,     steer,

predict,     repast.

Hathor

Who recalls the promise

     that we     will ascend

     alongside our pharaoh

when Hathor accosts us?

That story we hear from gods

     is the same one where

     pharaohs would fold

their desires within us as if we 

     could share their fruits,

their grain, and their libations.

     Our labors may reward

     us     as well as them.

Our sacrifices may replenish

     them     and us, too.

     Our part of the bounty

may come to us,     eventually.

     But who stands     apart

     to assess that storehouse?

     Ra rises to ride Nut,

     tricks Hathor with red beer.

Khaibit 

"As Khepera rises,

     I am your shadow."

You watch me

as we bathe in the Fields

          of Reeds.

All filth departs from us.

We find food there.

We till the soil.

We carve the Bull.

Our offerings to the gods

are accepted on the boat

          of Ra.

Sweet is our odor.

Fumigation 

Stand before Ra.

Declare your pure bones,

     your veins.

Excise those cells and dwell

     in his terror.

Burn before his mighty Fish

which is in the city

          of Qem-ur.

The Gallows 

     The tree began to speak. 

When the lamps are lit, the people

burst into flame as well. Their inner

harmony overcomes darkness as though

fire can at once be both hot and cold.

 

Loudly they vow loyalty until Krishna

requires silence as he watches them

burn within his light. Minds without self,

without will, they become Sanyasi,

sages whose souls have been conquered

     by lack of time or space and filled

with eternity, a vision that liberates:

freedom from dark that tortures a soul,

freedom from cares, lust, wrath,

greed, no false austerity but true joy.

Nachiketas

This seed shows its self

as neither large nor small,

its scent, lighter than fumes

     yet heavier than must,

               its flavor, none.

This kernel grows as a glow

     that sparks then beams,

     swells inside the throat.

It simmers as gruel, soon

becomes bright as lightning.

     It sits within this soup

     and within     answers. 

Naga

1

Naga slither

among six realms,

get caught

between hell,

     devas—

"Milk the goat."

2

Not six

     heavens,

seventeen thrown

up against

the Milky Way—

     "Hurry up!"

3

They say

you can use

     bamboo

     as rebar

in concrete—

"You can dance."

Great Mother 

When our Great Mother

was slain and pieced out

amongst all regions,

     temples arose

          where humankind 

sacrificed and feasted, 

guided by Ramakrishna.

Kiva 

      Build your palace

with a hole for a roof

where incense can flow

     to hide man smell,

man who crawls lakeshore,

      tumbles up like a crow.

          In the heat

from this world, a circle,

ladders climb its crater

     like crazy ass magic,

like a pope's dispensations,

     like terra nullius.

Turtle

Naked men grabbed

      its large shell

abandoned when Turtle

ascended to

      its Great Being.

Thinking cauldron,

men burst this shell.

Yet Turtle did not curse

us and still carries

our world on its back.

Monadnock

Monadnock isn't tall,

so the Immortals neglect

its forests. Shrubs rot

from mice nibbling roots.

But when streams breakout

again in Spring, burbling

calls Them, and They answer

with wind, rain, and pebbles

that ruffle slopes like floods.

Bewilder

We're drawn to the un

natural: god born man,

Jacob who wrestles angels,

a plant who becomes man,

     like Green Giant

          or the Green Man,

butterflies who can shift

     to fairies,     or birds

who lay eggs that hatch

as sprites,      and seals

     who can strip skins,

reform as girls who marry

and mother women whose

moods seem less chaotic

than nymphs or naiads.

Sweet Thighs 

When horses    had human

     heads and men    had goat

          hooves,    the world was

     a different place.    Half

          true, fully    alluring, birds

with cloven hooves    and faces

of lions sing,    or mock, myths

about wolves,    wolves who lurk

          until firelight dies,

then snuffle    at our sleeping

     twins to see    which we'll

          fatten up,    today.

Prometheus

     To this rock, god binds me, plagued

with sores unhealed by any nurse. Divine

madness tempered by the piss he takes

on my forehead when he visits, avoids

my fixed gaze, drops hogs, zebras, hippos,

or tigers on my legs that break then heal.

          He dances in circles around me,

lights straw beneath me, lights incense

to cloud my mind. He grants me visions,

pastoral, valleys where fathers and sons

labor to feed their herds, to guard grain,

to roof kine, to mend sickles, flail, scythe,

to keep dung for the hearth where flames

          flash and crackle in my honor.

Eurydice

     Mystery made her

while her beast bellowed

     below: Father sang

to mother whose breath

     gave him lungs strong

as kettles. Orphée whistles.

     Young as she is 

                                   mist

     slips into caves, covers

     the crying. Gloves off,

woolen scarf on, her lips red,

     eyes in kohl shadows,

from behind the veil she rises

still snakebit but glowing:

     "Turn around," she says.

Damnatio Memoriae

I will not see the fields

from air as Icarus did.

I will not bargain

to cross Styx, nor will

I dance with Hades

like a burnt prince.

Cedars

Athene and Dionysus share shame

     for killed fathers, killed priests.

He hates his name, his heritage, so

disguises himself as a fisherman.

          But his future's unwritten.

Futures can be replaced, not now,

because pastures are dead. 

                                                   Hash

floats past his table. Waiters pass

his table, avoid. Host sidles past.

Sturgeon surrounds mussels laid.

Dionysus becomes me, shuts our

farm, shuts our barn, gate, house,

then closes the attic then the cellar.

Dionysus becomes me, his sister.

Daquqi

Woven into worlds

glittering at night,

you can harvest

fruit from trees

yet still hunger.

You can knead dough

then bake it,

but it disappears

     like a dream.

Only awake

will you dine,

     lost inside God.

Arch

When you see

          lancers

in your streets

     know you

are not a stone,

nor their hearts

          al-'ilm.

Al-Mu'tamid

Forced to leave

your kingdom,

     fountains'

loops of spray,

     oars

rowing you away.

Frescoes 

Look amongst hewn niches

in deep caves. Look at walls

of frescoes, toothy demons

against dancing warrior

gods belted by skulls. Sift ashes

and dust for shards of clay cups,

yarrow sticks like finger bones,

kernels of barley, yak butter

lamps, and stones painted Om.

Bai Suzhen 

Once while your mother

hungered and your

father was ill, you climbed

onto Leifeng's roof.

     The snake struck.

You caught its white

face between your two

paws and gnawed its snout

     until its eyes burst

and its nostrils spewed

venom over your ears.

You jammed a ficus stave

          down its throat

then brought it back to feed

your mother its savory

brains and to salve your

     father with a poultice

          made from its dry,

               white scales.

Xu Xian 

 

One day your mother

pushed you behind her

and took the brunt

of the snake's attack.

She shoved you away

as her own chin was

bitten through by four

               fangs.

With her sharp claws

your mother slashed

     that snake's guts.

She fell away in agony

while the snake sped

off shaking its head

fitfully as it went.

You foraged in the grove

for the silver seeds

your mother had fed

you after she refused

     you her milk.

Seeds that made you

human would now

               save her.

Dragon

Carp swim

Up the all to Be.

          Swim

     Up 

the All dragon 

            Hill 

to Be dragon.

          Come

carp.

Shuhyung 

Steals our souls

     at nightfall,

     pulsing,

then buries them

in tilled earth.

Sheep graze.

Bow

 

Like the tidal flow,

the ten thousand things

     rise and fall.

These things make muddy

tide pools.     These pools

     hide real changes

within this present life

     that bow

like swirling sands.

      

Hitogata 

High cheekbones,

long hair, pointed hat

     dipped then

pushed down a brook,

     far away.

Kamogawa 

     Before canals,

white horse, black horse

          tamed

          the river.

Tengu play

               on high.