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Fishing Rod
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PAPER PURSUIT
Unnoticed until this present-day dreary tide
of aching emotion which never fails to cast
itself through the cancer dancing in my brain,
Demsy was the gloomily luminous gateway,
the pathfinder toward a destined experience.
I have these idols, you see, little sculptures
of holy peoples, one is a Japanese fisherman
who holds incense instead of a fishing rod
and one is a beautiful cherrywood Buddha:
gifts from him of intimite sentimentality.
Life sure enough soon brought great desire
for adventures of devotions and suffering.
I ventured to become a sad monk and failed.
Drink appears to have drowned me down.
Now all we can do is flounder to the flute.
In three lines, you said it best
I ventured to become a sad monk and failed.
Drink appears to have drowned me down.
Now all we can do is flounder to the flute.
… the way of so many artistic souls pass this way. In three lines, you said it best.
Vice Versa
And now you have made me smile too. That compliment bespeaks fathoms.
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I too hope that "cancer" is
I too hope that "cancer" is metaphorical. Dear poet, I do know your struggles. Not a day goes by that is not in part a tightrope walk above the possibility of drowning again. What still shines is the intensity, genius and power of your gift. The significance of the sculptures, especially the compassionate fishermen who held the emblem of enlightenment instead of the instrument of death in his hand, gripped my heart.
You haven't failed. The journey is far from over, and even if on occasion we "flounder to the flute" as you so splendidly expressed, there is still much light and many poems within you.
You Grace Me
I really fancy your insight on the Japanese sculpture.
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I hope that reference to
I hope that reference to brain cancer is metaphorical only, and not an actual attack upon your health.
Starward
It Is Metaphor
Thank you for your concern, but don't worry.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitutes