still adrift
in memory
after your visit
in my dreams
once again
drinking bitter coffee
listening to old songs
from those wild begone days
and missing
yes missing
you
old friend
you
friendship
4am in Moda: what lingers still: for JEP
here, old friend
5000 miles and more away
you appear still
scotch whiskey
in a glass
ice cubes
bumping shoulders
your deadpan delivery
pinball and burritos at 3am
in bars 3000 miles apart
those Texans you antagonized
mercilessly
tears amid the laughter
the mischief in your eyes
this is what
lingers still
your ghost refusing
to fade into the darkness
one more shot
for to you
to comfort us
both
and to keep the wolves
at bay
while you wait
patiently
for me
to join you
in that honky-tonk bar
in the sky
mixing lines from Wei Ying-wu and T’ao Ch’ien for friends both now and then dear to my heart: the ebb and flow of time
there is the ebb
and flow
of time
and we old friend
are participants
we are young
we are old
we embrace
countless times
in greeting in farewell
leaving each time
a thousand streams
of tears
wondering when
if ever
all this coming
and going
will end
and we can finally sit
in the shade
of some distant tree
a glass of whiskey
in our hands
and time
once and for all
on our side
all the talking: for JEP
some time toward dawn
a shot of whiskey
burns its way
down my throat
in memory
of you
and all the talking
we had
and all the talking
we missed
from Nineteen Old Poems by an anonymous Chinese poet
A friend who is not firm as a great rock
Is of no profit and idly bears the name.
translated by Arthur Waley
from a line by Wang Po: for Mike Harrison
where the road forks
my feet went left
yours right
decades past
miles seas continents apart
lost to each other
now found again
where the roads meet
in space
from a line by Li Po: old friend your heart
gone the sun
halfway round the world
to you old friend
your heart
my heart
halves of a whole
and this night
coming your way
with my heart
on its way
from Pouring Out My Feelings after Parting from Yüan Chen by Po Chü-i
With friends it’s not how many you have
but only whether they share your heart or not.
translated by Burton Watson
talk about: for my friends
you talk about
everything
and nothing
and somehow
the time flies
till the next time
you talk about
nothing
and everything
remembering fresh figs: for Ali Rıza Esmen
we scamper
among the trees
Ali and me
two kids again
in a farmer’s field
plucking figs
from trees
and giggling
as we split them open
to taste their sweetness
guilty pleasure
a break from work
washing our hands
in the sprinklers
before climbing back
into a waiting car
to return
to the business
at hand
Leonard Durso 