I See Your Bishop

A Love Song


What have I to say to you
When we shall meet?
Yet—
I lie here thinking of you.

The stain of love
Is upon the world.
Yellow, yellow, yellow,
It eats into the leaves,
Smears with saffron
The horned branches that lean
Heavily
Against a smooth purple sky.

There is no light—
Only a honey-thick stain
That drips from leaf to leaf
And limb to limb
Spoiling the colours
Of the whole world.

I am alone.
The weight of love
Has buoyed me up
Till my head
Knocks against the sky.

See me!
My hair is dripping with nectar—
Starlings carry it
On their black wings.
See, at last
My arms and my hands
Are lying idle.

How can I tell
If I shall ever love you again
As I do now?

-WCW

Swoon to Death:

Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

-Keats

Student Encouragement Assignment ENG115:

Hey Guys,

You can't post pictures to the comments for this account, so I made us a blog just for this class.

1. Go to blogger.com
2. login name: northcentral.writing@gmail.com
password: cardinals
3. upload you photo as a new post.

Ta-Daa!

TO THOSE OF YOU WHO READ THIS BLOG BUT AREN'T MY STUDENTS:

Go to http://nccwriting.blogspot.com/ to check out their Miranda July inspired encouragement banners!

At the Grocery Store

The children
And their darting
Eyeballs want the ground
To turn on.
They spot a thing
Outside themselves
That clicks in
Their brain
Settles into
A spot cradled
By angry need.
They pout until it
Burns in their hands
They touch it
Turn it over
Inhale and it
Disappears. Everything
They touch goes
Invisible. None of this
Scares me.

We Are Not Animals Anymore

Trammel the horses
Who pull your cogs.

Ask around for bait
To quell the lures.

Make haste with your haircuts
Now how do you feel?

In movie theatres,
Concentrate on your hands,
The watchers’ faces,

Discover what kind
Of thing you are

A Revision:

Biography

in the thrashing we shed
bodily parts

organs distilled
from stars

bouts of compassion
compel us to lie

the water is warm
we are in love

it is enough to be a body
for someone else

Reverse Edit

The bug puts to
pounds its twin.

This disaster
makes quick calamity
of you.

I lay peace meal
over the cavities
but then your

Your eyes become
eyes again and resist.

It's drafty in here!

For Mark

We needed this.
A casket the remainder
Of absence.
He was gone before
The body stopped.
That hyena cackle
Was not him. A ringed coffee
Stain on the kitchen
Table on the tip of his nose
Not him.
A damaged screen door
Twined rosaries not him.
There was a radio,
The charade of basic human
Interest. A belt, a dollar
Bill, a cigarette, a brother.
Not him.
These things describe us.
They are what we needed.
A prayer card. We needed this.
A will. A group home. A
Reason. We needed this.
He was sick.
The medication he
Never swallowed we
Swallowed it. Someone
Had to get better.
Someone had to survive.

I have been neglectful!

I have been away.
I have been changing, settling down into this new place and skin, really.

Here are some poems, part of something I am calling, for now, The Janus Project:

Reverse Dog

Our love is pocked with
the deep rivets of unanswered silences.
You lean down into one of them.
The holes allow us to breathe.


Reverse Tide

Give me the keys.
I will color our exaustion.
I will release plumed ideas
into the world.


I'll be back. With more or less substance, more or less meaning. In the meantime, fill in the blank(s):


If the answer is ________
If the question is ________
If the fable is ________
If the corollary is ________
If the hand writing is _________
If the predator is ________
If the spot light is ________
If the certainty is ________
If the planet is ________
If the antidote is ________
If the circle is ________
If the excuse is ________
If the ritual is ________
If the crying is ________

Short Bouts of Compassion Towards Children

First off, American Empire Project is up and running.

Next, a few more things:

1. The 5th was Jeannine and my's 2 year anniversary. She is incredible. I feel like I am in a reciprocal relationship, one that suits me, with someone who loves me for who I am, not someone who could be smarter or less crass or one of a million other ways I could change. She lets me be, leaves me alone when I need to be alone and doesn't harangue me to death, wondering why I am in a mood. She just lets me be. I still want her like I wanted her 2 years ago, and in new ways too. Grown-up ways, not just lusty teenager ways.

2. Today is the one year anniversary of my surgery. It's weird to me that I remember that it hurt, but not how it hurt. This pain amnesia must be why the human race continues to have multi-child households. I could go on at length about my fear of the cancer coming back, or my anger of having to look at this scar and be reminded of my mortality everyday at age 30. Instead I'm just going to say that cancer gave me my life, I am healthier now than I have probably ever been, more active, eat better, don't drink, don't smoke, don't eat meat, and am near giving up sugar. My friend told me I was meant to have cancer and survive it. I believe him because I have to, because if I give it meaning I can make something out of it, something good.

3. I love my cats. They are patient with us humans.

4. I've started doing yoga more consistantly than I ever have in the past. It feels good.

5. I love my job. I have the opportunity to be honest with strangers, to have short bursts of meaningfulness that can ripple beyond our conversations.

6. I hope very much that you all are happy and have some things in your lives to be thanful for.

7. A poem:

It Is Enough to Be a Body for Someone Else to Rest Against

Gravity holds us in strong airy palms. We fight
Back against the specter of what it represents.
In the struggle we lose parts of ourselves, the universe
A collection of spinning things that become
Unfamiliar because unattached they no longer keep us
Alive. The truth is they were always foreign,
Our organs and memories are particles of stars
We borrow to see. When those pieces are taken
From us we don’t lack functioning, we just
Reorganize. At night the lake looks like black cement.
And it is when you are falling to it. Short bouts of
Compassion towards children compel us to lie, it is
A sunny day, the water is warm, we are in love.

ER