Chrysanthemum
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1
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the sword
as sunrise
highlights
the water
flash cuts of red
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2
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a silver bird
a black curve
at vision’s edge
cautiously circles
hedges preflight bets
against a perfect landing
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a black curve
of the slowly formed oval
figures into connections
liniar sensibility
practices the new motion
the cutting motion
of ends realized
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3
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I’ve caged
with sun & steel
the silver birds
I hope
to dissect their eyes
to find what they see
beyond my sight
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I know they see more
they feed from other hands
I will not rest
till I’ve emptied
their hollow bones
of soaring fluids
I must know more
than the aching birth of flight
I must feel more
than the caress of turbulence
I must have their sight
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4
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a feathered rhapsody
in a shimmer celebration
of a perfect landing
on an endless spiral
of consecrated breath
breath held
as long as possible
the released
to form a lined cloud
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5
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I’ve released
the silver birds
they soar & shimmer
beyond all edges
black round flickers
their eyes intact
they see black curves
they fly spirals
the black curves are death
a vision I leave to them
till my own bones
are so hollow
all that remains
is the silver
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6
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from behind the cloud
a silver bird
wings on straw bones
a floating airfoil song
a crescendo of invention
in a shuddered moment
a moment of escape
a curve of celebration
for this perfect landing
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7
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the vision
as heartbeat
reflects
the edge
fresh curves of black
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June13/77
This poem reflects my adoration of Yukio Mishima. His life, writing & death were inspirations to me. Over the years I have read nearly everything of his translated into English, as well as biographies & critical studies of his work. Through the piece are mentions of his works – Sun & Steel is his book about samurai culture & ritual. He saw suicide as an artist expression. He was also queer.
The opening & closing are like Japanese water colours with a few simple brushstrokes creating a vivid image in blank space. The in-between verses are like chrysanthemum – multi-petaled with repeated words, images, analogies that reflect, then vary as they move like a kaleidoscope to form then reform new pictures.
Words were carefully picked for sonics & meaning & poetic vibrancy. ‘feathered rhapsody’ ‘crescendo of invention’ are Dylan Thomas candy. I had some brightly coloured Java Temple finches at one time so I’m sure they were inspiration for all the bird imagery. I must have seen a documentary on bird feathers & bones & that relates to their ability to fly but it is possible I made that stuff up too.
T
hey learn to fly by being pushed out of the nest – it’s either spread your wings or die trying, discover their perfect landing or become part of the black curves. Poems have to pushed out the nest to fly into the lives people that the poet often never meets. We writers never know where our words will land once we set them free. The vision one has of oneself as a poet, as person, also has to leave a nest, though unlike birds we have more options to try as we learn to negotiate life & often never find that perfect landing.
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