January 10, 2014 #smallstones

when a great poet/
griot/spirit passes on –
you can’t just go to bed
at the normal time,
as if nothing special happened,
as if the routine is the same,
the same old routine…

you gotta stay up late,
read his work out loud –
invoke his spirit,
let it come inside your house –
sip some scotch with it,
smoke some weed if you got some,
and take a pause,
and take a pause,
and take a pause…

January 9, 2014 #smallstones

“The Poet is a faker who’s so good at his act
He even fakes the pain of pain he feels in fact.”

no need for an apology –
it was I who over-reacted:
obsessed with non-existent privacy –
trained with a double fiction:
never who I am,
never where I am,
always hiding the truth –
even from myself –
and mixing justifications –
until I lose the ability
to distinguish contrived reason
from complex reality –
but that phase of life is over:
and I need to break away.

January 8, 2014 #smallstones

when I write about Emily
behind the scenes I am thinking
about my sister Phillis,
kidnapped and brought
to Colonial America from Africa,
enslaved, she mastered English
and blossomed as a writer of verse.
She died a free woman, a poet,
but her husband destroyed all her work.
Chained to a bad husband
might be worse than slavery.

January 7, 2014 #smallstones

a pleasant Sunday afternoon
on a cold January day
eight people with a common love
for poems and poets and poetry

we finished the chat on Pessoa
and stood around, talking Netflix binges –
not caring about rushing off
to the next big thing –
absorbed by and absorbing
the atmosphere around us,
that we created, together.

January 6, 2014 #smallstones

enter the dark horse,
DC Poetica:
exotic, enticing,
yet reminiscent
of a bygone classicism –
DC Poetica:
I could be persuaded

January 5, 2014 #smallstones

Fortune cookie:

You will travel
to an African country
that you love
and meet with an old friend
about a business prospect.

January 4, 2014 #smallstones

reflections on Yoga: The Art of Transformation at the Sackler

walking before dawn is my Meditation –
writing poetry is my Austerity –
prayer on bended knee is my Asana –
and the Beloved Community
is the landscape of my Practice