Wednesday, November 4, 2009

November 5, 2009

Welcome to the Wonderland Amusement Park.  Santa took the day off, the concessionaire's out of cold beer, and no one sells giant plastic sunglasses in overcrowded shops smelling like sea salt.  The typhoon's come and gone, I'm waiting for the internet to switch back on, watched John Woo's movie, Red Cliff, at a local theater,and sipped two frozen margaritas watching the last half of a Steven Segal movie that'd stopped due to a brown-out. A normal day for most, but when you're haunted by dragons and ghosts, live inside of a Salvadore Dali painting, dance with Frida Kahlo, and suffer from PTSD, nothing's what it seems.

the night's last
showing of red cliff . . .
and the two
next to us don't stand for
the national anthem

that smile . . . 
your understanding
of the wind

you love to
look at yourself and
know you still 
have what it takes to
make the fog roll in

pregnant, you 
fall through a dream
into spring

to the full 
moon on halloween
we raise
our spirits, the tide
in a hurry to leave

humid winter . . .  
he eats a bowl of rice 
before a mirror

miles davis'
flamenco sketches . . .
i sail through
the narrow straits of
a heart painted red

moon watching . . . 
stirring a bowlful 
of stars

bear with me
a minute,  while i
and prepare the 
moon's bath water

day lillies . . . 
a path covered with
moth wings

in a few
minutes we'll enter
the other's
breath, carrying
purple orchids

your shower . . .
an interim between

like bamboo, 
your transformation
into a
nerve ending, hollow,
sheathing sunlight

deep water . . .
a tilapia bites
the moon

what is it
i want? a carp to
jump through hoops?
a monkey to
collect pennies?

basho falls
from heaven's river
. . . soundlessly

massaging your 
back, you drifted through clouds
into a deep 
pond swimming with koi
like a rainbow

winter, yes . . .
but spring inside
the heart

this morning
you thought of me as
an angel . . .
my wings wrapped softly
around your heart

unfold for
me again, the petals
of ... can be

an addict?
a dog in need
of a leash?
he plunges deeper
into madness

swaying grass . . .
a eulogy for
mute dogs

anxious to
journey into the 
reaches of the park
without a map

a kigo in
a land that's always

what to do
when wind and rain
force you to
swing from a limb
singing, Jesus loves me

a long winter . . .
and the absence
of worms

if i let
you go, albatross, 
bring to me
a children's story
without an end

robert d. wilson

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