One Fish [Haiku]

solitary fish
darts about at lake's edge:
taunting fates & fishers.

“Tortuous” [Poetry Style #17 (委曲)] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

Climbing Taihang Mountain,
On the green winding way.
The jade-lined trail in fog,
Floral scents from the gray.
Stuck in unflowing time,
'Til a song sung bright and gay...
I'm steered back to my past
With the grace of ghosts at play.
Skirting roiling waters,
A Roc soars after prey.
The Tao is unbounded --
Round or square as it may.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the seventeenth of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 委曲, and has been translated as: “Grievance” and “In Tortuous Ways.”

Burnable World [Haiku]

after the harvest,
farmland - dry & ignitable:
distant smoke.

“Should the Wide World Roll Away” by Stephen Crane [w/ Audio]

Should the wide world roll away
Leaving black terror
Limitless night,
Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand
Would be to me essential
If thou and thy white arms were there
And the fall to doom a long way.

Singer [Haiku]

a lovely voice,
heard down the valley, grows
louder & louder.

“In the Prison Pen” by Herman Melville [w/ Audio]

Listless he eyes the palisades
And sentries in the glare;
'Tis barren as a pelican-beach --
But his world is ended there.

Nothing to do; and vacant hands
Bring on the idiot-pain;
He tries to think -- to recollect,
But the blur is on his brain.

Around him swarm the plaining ghosts
Like those on Virgil's shore --
A wilderness of faces dim,
And pale ones gashed and hoar.

A smiting sun. No shed, no tree;
He totters to his lair --
A den that sick hands dug in earth
Ere famine wasted there,

Or, dropping in his place, he swoons,
Walled in by throngs that press,
Till forth from the throngs they bear him
dead --
Dead in his meagerness.

Grazing [Haiku]

horses graze upon
dandelions and green grass,
under snowy heights.

Blue Sky Perspective [Lyric Poem]

What ancient tower sits
Under the patch of blue...
Exposed by tearing clouds
To give a boundless view.

Well, however ancient
And however stately,
I view it with less awe,
Or even quite sedately.

For it's a babe below
The ever-spreading sky;
Its edges - broad and tall -
Exaggerate -- They lie!

“Sparse” [Poetry Style #15 (疏野)] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

Ah, make nature your home;
Be true and be unchained.
Enrichment by control
Can never be sustained.
Build your hut in the pines:
Toss your hat and read verse.
Know the dawn from the dusk,
But not time -- cradle to hearse.
If your life suits you well
Why must you strive and strain?
If you're unbound as sky,
This style you have attained.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the fifteenth of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 疏野 and it has been translated as “Seclusion” [Giles,] “The Carefree and Wild Style” [Barnstone / Ping,] as well as, “Unrestricted,” “Seclusion,” and “Sparse Wilderness.”

“I have never seen ‘Volcanoes’ –” (175) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

I have never seen "Volcanoes" --
But, when Travellers tell
How those old -- phlegmatic mountains
Usually so still --

Bear within -- appalling Ordnance,
Fire, and smoke, and gun,
Taking Villages for breakfast,
And appalling Men --

If the stillness is Volcanic
In the human face
When upon a pain Titanic
Features keep their place --

If at length the smouldering anguish
Wil not overcome ---
And the palpitating Vineyard
In the dust, be thrown?

If some loving Antiquary,
On Resumption Morn,
Will not cry with joy "Pompeii"!
To the Hills return!