Time Talk

.
poets talk time
to get a handle on it,
to hack a place to hold it
to turn it, to fold it
to climb it and mount it
to ride it, to flip it
to hide it, to turn it
to toy with and tip it
to wrench it, to rip it
apart to unlearn it
to kill it, to burn it
to track it in the innards of clocks
to tear it apart like a crow on a corpse
to drill it to dig it to bore it
and finally, ignore it

poets would do well to pour time
like water, or blood & wine
and savoring,
sip it

Science & Religion

.
my brain’s a pouch in which
I stash my loot
 
if I keep its purse strings loose
I might add to its load
when new coin comes to town

but if I tighten down
the purse strings of my mind
and garrote its capaciousness
all that I might be
will be hopelessly consigned
to dangle from its noose
.

Jim Culleny
3/16/14

A Footprint

.
Long ago
a fox ran along a clay river bank.
After an interim
of tens of thousands of years
a footprint turned fossil remains.
Looking at it, you’ll see
what the fox was thinking while running.
.
.
by Shinjiro Kurahara
from Iwana
publisher Dowaya, Tokyo, 2010
translation Mariko Kurihara, William I. Elliott, Katsumasa Nishihara

A Secret Code

.
What is that coming through
the wrong end of time?
A secret code from the future.
But it is not from human beings
or from a non-existent God.

Under the abstract sky,
where the distant desert is gradually drying out,
the last butterfly
is sending it, clinging
to the single remaining grass blade on earth.
.
.
by Shinjiro Kurahara
from Iwana
publisher Dowaya, Tokyo, 2010
translation Mariko Kurihara, William I. Elliott, Katsumasa Nishihara

A Crow

.
In a vast expanse of field
a crow with the sun on its back
flying vigorously
suddenly died.
It fell straight down from the high sky.
And at the same time
its huge shadow
dashed into its dead body
at lightning speed
from the horizon of the crimson field.
Having cast a great shadow on this earth
the crow’s heart quit.
.
.
by Shinjiro Kurahara
from Iwana
publisher Dowaya, Tokyo, 2010
translation Mariko Kurihara, William I. Elliott, Katsumasa Nishihara

Yesterday’s Images

.
A praying mantis on the edge of unconsciousness
raising its axes above the horizon,
gazes at the running clouds,
clings to the tip of a dry grass blade
and sways with it.

On its glassy blue eyes are reflected
the horizon in the afterglow,
speckles of a blue,
and thistles trembling in the distance.
Those are yesterday as it was.
.
.
by Shinjiro Kurahara
from Iwana
publisher Dowaya, Tokyo, 2010
translation Mariko Kurihara, William I. Elliott, Katsumasa Nishihara