Poems
Being Late
From where do simplicity and ease
In the movement of heavenly bodies derive?
It is precision.
Sun is never late to rise upon the Earth
Moon is never late to cause the tides
Earth is never late to greet the Sun and the Moon
Thus accidents are not accidents
But precise arrivals at the wrong right time
Love is almost never simple
Too often, feelings arrive too soon
Waiting for thoughts that often come too late
I wanted too, to be simple and precise
Like the Sun
Like the Moon
Like the Earth
But the Earth was booked
Billions of years in advance.
Designed to meet all desires,
All arrivals, all sunrises, all sunsets
All departures
So I will have to be a little bit late.
Sadness and Happiness
It is not possible to express the most precious insights,
To see all that craves to be seen,
To visit even the closest neighbors in the universe,
To learn all that needs to be learned,
To live without dying,
And I am sad about it.
But I lived
And I am happy about that.
Task of a Poet
To hear never-heard sounds,
To see never-seen colors and shapes,
To try to understand the imperceptible
Power pervading the world;
To fly and find pure ethereal substances
That are not of matter
But of that invisible soul pervading reality.
To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul;
To be a lantern in the darkness
Or an umbrella in a stormy day;
To feel much more than know.
To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain;
To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon;
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves;
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets
Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching.
To be a smile on the face of a woman
And shine in her memory
As a moment saved without planning.
A Star Deep In the Mind
I see a new star on the horizon
It’s not the Morning Star;
It’s a star without light
This star without the light is the brightest
Because its light stays within.
The biggest star doesn’t take any space
It lives within,
Feeds all other stars, all other matter.
Without space, there is no time,
Without time, there is no aging,
Without aging, there is no death
A star without light never dies
It cannot be seen in the outer space
It can only be sensed in the mind
An Island in the Mind
Dream, flying out from the head
Becomes a bird flying over the sea
The Sun, sprouting from the sea
Makes the sea alive and blue
The flying dream that hovers in space
Becomes an island in the sea
The island—the dream emanating from the head
The bird, the air, the sea, and the light.
Ancient Roman Villa
Here lies once splendid ancient Roman Villa in ruins. Remnants of a gorgeous mosaic—Venus and a flying dove on the floor—of big gardens, fountains and pools talk about her rich and lively history.
The Roman wealthy patrician did not think of us looking at the mosaic of his Villa. He built it for posterity, yet desired to live longer than his creation. He thought he could deceive the uncompromising ruler—time. Although there was no real stock market then, he had his own treasury; he thought the treasury will live longer even than his Villa to support his posterity—buy them power, fame.
We can almost hear and see the water that once sprinkled from fountains; hear giggles and secret stories shared in the gardens among his children and servants; we can imagine his demeanor at the extravagant parties he loved; bacchanalias in the secret rooms of the Villa.
Here lies the ancient Roman Villa in ruins and little is known of her once larger-than-life owner, and even less about his stock, treasury, and posterity.
A New Friend
Tell me something less significant
Something about our biology, for instance,
About what you hear while sitting under the tree
About lonely lions in the prairies
Forget decorated generals
Tell me about Private Ryan
Tell me something only you know
And make a new friend
A Woman in the Garden of Light
To find the hidden place
Longing freely to explore
Break obstacles and recognize
Invisible sparks emanating
From the deserved discovery
Of nothing between us
Shining longing only
Wakening stars in the Garden
Witnessing the birth of new landscapes,
Future cities and temples
Hearing new stories, falling
From the fountains of the hidden art
All old sounds and colors reviving
And you, blindingly bright,
Into new senses are melting me
And into the core I grow
With invisible roots piercing
Touching the core of fire
Traveling far to the place, before
Space and time, and coming back
To this Garden to find you
To see the real you swimming
And flying ahead of the light
To find you where the light never was
And to learn that you are its source
Afterlife Light
That star in the night sky
Is not there anymore
But we see it and will see it
For millions of years yet to come
Did the star die?
Did it live?
In life, we call this phenomenon
A ghost, a hallucination
(Is life a ghost too?)
What if the star never lived?
Or maybe its death dies
While the star continues to live
Cheating death
With its afterlife light
All Women in One
You shall not stop or hesitate and sway
Until you pass through the forest
And compare the beauty of the summer’s day and night—
Until you arrive in your own Ithaca.
There is always Venus;
New Elissa to build new Carthage,
The new Kingdom of Light.
You shall not stop until you find Venus:
One woman in all,
And all the women in One.
Until you can say--La Dolce Vita,
Until you find Paradise Lost in only one name,
Until you are able to say—
You are all women in one.
From where do simplicity and ease
In the movement of heavenly bodies derive?
It is precision.
Sun is never late to rise upon the Earth
Moon is never late to cause the tides
Earth is never late to greet the Sun and the Moon
Thus accidents are not accidents
But precise arrivals at the wrong right time
Love is almost never simple
Too often, feelings arrive too soon
Waiting for thoughts that often come too late
I wanted too, to be simple and precise
Like the Sun
Like the Moon
Like the Earth
But the Earth was booked
Billions of years in advance.
Designed to meet all desires,
All arrivals, all sunrises, all sunsets
All departures
So I will have to be a little bit late.
Sadness and Happiness
It is not possible to express the most precious insights,
To see all that craves to be seen,
To visit even the closest neighbors in the universe,
To learn all that needs to be learned,
To live without dying,
And I am sad about it.
But I lived
And I am happy about that.
Task of a Poet
To hear never-heard sounds,
To see never-seen colors and shapes,
To try to understand the imperceptible
Power pervading the world;
To fly and find pure ethereal substances
That are not of matter
But of that invisible soul pervading reality.
To hear another soul and to whisper to another soul;
To be a lantern in the darkness
Or an umbrella in a stormy day;
To feel much more than know.
To be the eyes of an eagle, slope of a mountain;
To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon;
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves;
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets
Of crazy cities watching, watching, and watching.
To be a smile on the face of a woman
And shine in her memory
As a moment saved without planning.
A Star Deep In the Mind
I see a new star on the horizon
It’s not the Morning Star;
It’s a star without light
This star without the light is the brightest
Because its light stays within.
The biggest star doesn’t take any space
It lives within,
Feeds all other stars, all other matter.
Without space, there is no time,
Without time, there is no aging,
Without aging, there is no death
A star without light never dies
It cannot be seen in the outer space
It can only be sensed in the mind
An Island in the Mind
Dream, flying out from the head
Becomes a bird flying over the sea
The Sun, sprouting from the sea
Makes the sea alive and blue
The flying dream that hovers in space
Becomes an island in the sea
The island—the dream emanating from the head
The bird, the air, the sea, and the light.
Ancient Roman Villa
Here lies once splendid ancient Roman Villa in ruins. Remnants of a gorgeous mosaic—Venus and a flying dove on the floor—of big gardens, fountains and pools talk about her rich and lively history.
The Roman wealthy patrician did not think of us looking at the mosaic of his Villa. He built it for posterity, yet desired to live longer than his creation. He thought he could deceive the uncompromising ruler—time. Although there was no real stock market then, he had his own treasury; he thought the treasury will live longer even than his Villa to support his posterity—buy them power, fame.
We can almost hear and see the water that once sprinkled from fountains; hear giggles and secret stories shared in the gardens among his children and servants; we can imagine his demeanor at the extravagant parties he loved; bacchanalias in the secret rooms of the Villa.
Here lies the ancient Roman Villa in ruins and little is known of her once larger-than-life owner, and even less about his stock, treasury, and posterity.
A New Friend
Tell me something less significant
Something about our biology, for instance,
About what you hear while sitting under the tree
About lonely lions in the prairies
Forget decorated generals
Tell me about Private Ryan
Tell me something only you know
And make a new friend
A Woman in the Garden of Light
To find the hidden place
Longing freely to explore
Break obstacles and recognize
Invisible sparks emanating
From the deserved discovery
Of nothing between us
Shining longing only
Wakening stars in the Garden
Witnessing the birth of new landscapes,
Future cities and temples
Hearing new stories, falling
From the fountains of the hidden art
All old sounds and colors reviving
And you, blindingly bright,
Into new senses are melting me
And into the core I grow
With invisible roots piercing
Touching the core of fire
Traveling far to the place, before
Space and time, and coming back
To this Garden to find you
To see the real you swimming
And flying ahead of the light
To find you where the light never was
And to learn that you are its source
Afterlife Light
That star in the night sky
Is not there anymore
But we see it and will see it
For millions of years yet to come
Did the star die?
Did it live?
In life, we call this phenomenon
A ghost, a hallucination
(Is life a ghost too?)
What if the star never lived?
Or maybe its death dies
While the star continues to live
Cheating death
With its afterlife light
All Women in One
You shall not stop or hesitate and sway
Until you pass through the forest
And compare the beauty of the summer’s day and night—
Until you arrive in your own Ithaca.
There is always Venus;
New Elissa to build new Carthage,
The new Kingdom of Light.
You shall not stop until you find Venus:
One woman in all,
And all the women in One.
Until you can say--La Dolce Vita,
Until you find Paradise Lost in only one name,
Until you are able to say—
You are all women in one.