Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be? --
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn,
Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear,
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone, -- and the birch in its stead has grown. --
The Knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust; --
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
a cloud of pigeons
wheels about in a broad loop;
a thin batch returns.
a crisp trail
worn into the grass;
i move, butterfly-like.
I made my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But the fools caught it,
Wore it in the world's eyes
As though they'd wrought it.
Song, let them take it
For there's more enterprise
In walking naked.
the tree’s trunk
engulfed by vines & leaves, though
little light shines through
Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best the painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill
To find where your true image pictur'd lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art;
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
amidst bright colors
and fragrant aromas:
sense overload.
frenetic fly,
spastically flying loops:
lands from whence it flew.
Goose, Goose, Goose,
Look skyward and let your song loose.
White feathers float on the green lake
As red feet paddle through clear waves.
NOTE: This poem’s title is often translated as “An Ode to the Goose” but the Chinese title 咏鹅 (Yǒng é) is “Chant[ing] Goose.”
seated on the wall,
beside the rushing creek,
the world slows.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 