eyes brimming and shining
you there
before me
words fall helplessly
at your feet
my heart
for you
my overflowing heart
Author: zdunno03
Late Spring Improvisation by Yu Xuanji
Very few visitors or lovers
come through this alley to this hidden door
and as for someone I can really cherish
I meet him only in dreams
perfumed gauze and damask–
whose empty seat at the banquet?
songs carried on the wind–
coming from what pavilion?
around here it’s mostly army drums
disrupting morning sleep
nothing but magpies in the courtyard
clattering through spring sorrow
how could I hope to have any part
in the world of grand events
my own life at such a distance
and no place to tie up my boat?
translated by David Yooung & Jiann I. Lin
fade to black
footsteps in the hallway
whispers in the dark
an extended empty hand
a back turns slowly
a door closes
blinds drawn against the sun
sighs like thunder
tears like rain
there are no tomorrows
only yesterdays
an empty spot
boats glide by
on the sea
the sun hot
on my neck
kids play football
on the lawn
beyond the bench
where I sit
a dog rolls over
sunning his belly
and a group of men
build a fire
to roast kebob
though there is peace
in the air
yet there is still
an empty spot
where your hand
should be
from Ode to the violin in California by Pablo Neruda
I sought that violin in the night.
I searched street by pitch-black street,
went house by weathered house,
star by star.
It faded
and fell silent
then suddenly surged,
. . . . . . . . . . .a flare
in the brackish night.
It was a pattern of incendiary sound,
a spiral of musical contours,
and I went on searching
street by street
for the dark violin’s
lifeline,
the source submerged in silence.
Finally, there
he was,
at the entrance to a bar:
a man and his
. . . . . .hungry violin.
The last drunk
weaved homeward
to a bunk on board a ship,
and violated tables
shrugged off empty glasses.
Nobody was left waiting,
and nobody was on the way.
The wine had left for home,
the beer was sound asleep,
and in the doorway
soared
the violin with its ragged
companion,
it soared
over…
View original post 143 more words
on the other side of the world: for Thanksgiving absent again
there are voices calling my name
on the other side of the world
an empty chair
a glass not filled with wine
dark meat with gravy
stuffing with mushrooms
manicotti
and Robert’s famous meatballs and gravy
hot and sweet sausage
broccoli with garlic, lemon and oil
Johnny bought blueberry pie
only I’m not getting a piece
’cause I’m over here
on the other side of the world
quietly finishing a bottle of wine
trying not to think of your voice
the sorrow in the air
fresh flowers don’t quite kill the smell
of disappointment
regret
another year gone by
that empty chair
that bottle of wine unopened
ice cream melting on a plate
Al Martino singing love songs
George serving salad
and you sliding food onto my plate
the cat under the table
my hand reaching across
space
grabbing nothing
grabbing air
on the other side
of the world
the long way
seem to be taking
the long way
home
The River Han by Tu Mu
Rich and full, all surging swells and white gulls in flight,
it flows springtime deep, its green a crystalline dye for robes.
Going south and coming back north, you grow older, older.
Late light lingers, farewell to a fishing boat bound for home.
translated by David Hinton
Back Home Again by Tu Mu
Kids keep tugging at my robes, asking:
Why did it take you so long to come back?
And who were you fighting those months
and years to win all that silk-white hair?
translated by David Hinton
what was that all about
there are those moments
in life
when someone says
or does
something so astounding
either in brilliance or ignorance
that you go
what was that all about
and today
of all days
as I was out wandering
on these ancient streets
I had such a moment
and thought
they follow me
these people
halfway around the world
to keep me on my metaphoric toes
no sleepwalking here
for this long island kid
you can’t let your guard down
not for a moment
even if you think it’s safe
no sharks in sight
the water warm and inviting
uh huh
sure right
Norman Rockwell country
here in Turkey
but there is no safe harbor
no sign of relief
and no matter how hard you try
you just won’t get
what that was all about
Leonard Durso 