it’s Gershwin’s birthday
Chuck tells me
so I listen to
Ella & Louis
singing They All Laughed
a decent red blend
from a Turkish winery
my feet up
those Polk speakers
doing their duty
in my living room
and no movies
this Saturday night
in Izmir
stuffed eggplant
Turkish style
sent over by Seçil
and I’m pleasantly full
getting numb
in the cheeks
and letting my mind
go
for you see
you can pronounce either
any way you want to
but kiddo
there are memories
worth preserving
and music
takes one there
Ella’s voice
Louis’ trumpet
to whomever’s listening
They Can’t Take That
Away From Me
Month: September 2014
Hearts of Stone
listening to
Southside Johnny
this morning
and remembering nights
of whiskey
and albums like this
long ago
these songs
can’t revive
those feelings
memories
lie dormant
a lifetime ago
and here
on my balcony
the sun brilliant
in the sky
Tahin will soon
drive to the bazaar
with me along
for the ride
and later
I will listen
to Joshua Bell
Sarah Chang
fresh figs
pears peaches
on the table
peanuts too
another world
I live in
far from whiskey
and the need
to dull
or heighten
the pain
Thoughts in Night Quiet by Li Po (Li Bai)
Seeing moonlight here on my bed
and thinking it’s frost on the ground,
I look up, gaze at the mountain moon,
then back, dreaming of my old home.
translated by David Hinton
thunder storm
the sky lights up
then the rumble
Ataturk flaps
in the wind
the wine
in my glass
fortifies
as I sit
snug in sweatshirt
on the balcony
heaven’s tears
outside
friendship
you talk about
everything
and nothing
and somehow
the time flies
till the next time
you talk about
nothing
and everything
the nature of
friendship
Thoughts Of You Unending by Li Po (Li Bei)
Thoughts of you unending
here in Ch’ang-an,
crickets where the well mirrors year-end golds cry out
autumn, and under a thin frost, mats look cold, ice-cold.
My lone lamp dark, thoughts thickening, I raise blinds
and gaze at the moon. It renders the deepest lament
empty. But you’re lovely as a blossom born of cloud,
skies opening away all bottomless azure above, clear
water all billows and swelling waves below. Skies endless
for a spirit in sad flight, the road over hard passes
sheer distance, I’ll never reach you, even in dreams,
my ruins of the heart,
thoughts of you unending.
translated by David Hinton
Sailing On The Lake To The Ching River by Lu Yu
It is Spring on the lake and
I run six or seven miles.
Sunset, I notice a few
Houses. Children are driving
Home the ducks and geese. Young girls
Are coming home carrying
Mulberry leaves and hemp. Here
In this hidden village the
Old ways still go on. The crops
Are good. Everybody is
Laughing. This old man fastens
His boat and climbs up the bank.
Tipsy, he holds fast to the vines.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
I Climb A Hilltop: anti-war poem from the Book of Songs
I climb a rock-strewn hilltop
and gaze, gaze out toward my
father, O father calling: My child, my child dragged off to war,
no rest all day and all night.
Take care, take care and be ever
homeward, not stuck out there.
I climb a grass-patch hilltop
and gaze, gaze out toward my
mother, O mother calling: My little one, my little one dragged off to war,
no sleep all day and all night.
Take care, take care and be ever
homeward, not lost out there.
I climb some windblown ridge
and gaze, gaze out toward my
brother, O brother calling: My brother, my brother dragged off to war,
formation all day and all night.
Take care, take care and be ever
homeward, not dead out there.
translated by David Hinton
Evening in the Village by Lu Yu
Here in the mountain village
Evening falls peacefully.
Half tipsy, I lounge in the
Doorway. The moon shines in the
Twilit sky. The breeze is so
Gentle the water is hardly
Ruffled. I have escaped from the
Lies and trouble. I no longer
Have any importance. I
do not miss my horses and
Chariots. Here at home I
Have plenty of pigs amd chickens.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
untitled poem 7 by Fernando Pessoa
Oh ship setting out on a distant voyage,
Why don’t I miss you the way other people do
After you’ve vanished from sight?
Because, when I don’t see you, you cease to exist.
And if I feel nostalgia for what doesn’t exist,
The feeling is in relationship to nothing.
It’s not the ship but our own selves that we miss.
translated by Richard Zenith
Leonard Durso 