Friday 29 April 2011

Sunday 24 April 2011

my little fish called Bashō









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To be a fish !

So utterly without misgiving
To be a fish
In the waters.

Loveless, and so lively!
Born before God was love,
Or life knew loving.
Beautifully beforehand with it all.



And I said to my heart, there are limits
To you, my heart;
And to the one God.
Fish are beyond me.

Fishes,
With their gold, red eyes, and green-pure gleam, and
under-gold.
And their pre-world loneliness,
And more-than-lovelessness.


from: D.H. Lawrence (
Fish)






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some say that i am unaware
that i possess no more than
the limited attention span
necessary for the restricted
round of my world

i concede this may be true
yet the walls of my domain
are no less transparent than yours
and the confines of mine
are more visible
inhabitants of strictured spheres

but i whose dominion
is a mere fin span -
with each turn of the bowl
katsū!
and there the world renewed



swiss (bashō as a fish)





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Monday 11 April 2011

the quivering apple, split open by the changing light

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pondering these days:

There is no nonsense about a still life, a solitary object. You can keep looking at it.
It gives you a chance to really be there to find out how deep you can go.


William Segal


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Monday 4 April 2011

... and shatter me with Dawn

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At last, to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!

Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star!
Past Sunrise!
Ah, What leagues there were
Between our feet, and Day!






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Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—







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Not knowing when the Dawn will come,
I open every Door,
Or has it Feathers, like a Bird,
Or Billows, like a Shore—







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The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind—





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poems by Emily Dickinson



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