No one ever answers when I call

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

I like both these poems, especially the first, that captures the mystery of Mt. Fuji. There is a similar mountain/volcano here in Ecuador called 'Cotopaxi', which has a similar conical shape. Apparently the name means 'neck of the moon' in the indigenous language.

Eruption and earthquake shake
the mighty ash heaps,
and winds of great power lash

The heavy sounds here are fantastic, before the 'stillness'.

It has a great twist at the end. A really tight poem.

Thanks, Steven. The latest came together pretty well. I had always thought I would need an "extra"for the last 10, as I did with the original 36, where I actually had a number of "insert" poems to address some more contemporary issues, or other aspects of Hokusai's work, but always with a tie-in of some kind to the Fuji series.

I still have a couple to go with the series proper.

I looked up Cotopaxi, and it is uncanny how the volcano dome is so similar to Fuji. But there are other pictures as well, like this one "Cotopaxi" by Frederic Edwin Church, 1862, that provide another, very dramatic view of the Andean mountain.

I really enjoyed “This Old Story” and the “Seven Simian Stanzas…”. The details are wonderfully woven and rivet attention. I liked the repetition about the heat in “Stanzas” and the hints for the need of glasses in the “Story”.

Thanks, casket N orbit. "This Old Story" was a bit of a struggle, but it was a story I had told informally in real life from time to time, and it was probably inevitable that I put it in poetic form.

The "Seven Simian Stanzas..." were just me having fun.

Brian really is smiling at me I think reading the cat poems, the hen and the cat, etc...the Japanese poems are beautiful too...but the nursery rhyme storytelling gift you have makes my heart sing.

Glad you like the cats and the chickens. With regard to the nursery rhymes, my NaPo from 2007 (if I remember correctly) was entitled "High Decibel Nursery Rhymes". I have often returned to such forms over the years, as that type of rhyme and meter comes fairly easily to me. The tough part is making sure that the story makes some kind of sense on some level, but it seems that you approve of what I have done story-wise, which makes me happy.

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Give up my Soul

I’ve started a new religion
based on Paul Simon's “Graceland”.
I've got me a list of ready-made saints
from popular culture and infinity,
and I have a pilgrimage to make.

I can follow in his footsteps,
and make my way to Memphis
with the boy in the bubble,
and there I'll pay my homage to Elvis,
and the ladies with silver in their hair.
I'll do an imaginary dance
with the ghost of Chevy Chase—
whether he’s alive or dead—
and we’ll mime the sacred music together
on the saxophones and trumpets
that we've never learned to play.

I'm torn apart to learn that all this music
that I hold inside me—this music
that I sing as I walk down the street—
is only in my head. I have no CD or vinyl,
no sacred symbols, only radio memories
and YouTube videos to prove my faith.

I still feel like walking with Joseph,
and I begin to remember how Nathan and I
sang a duet of “Under African Skies”,
and, maybe—if I'm lucky—
I will find my way down to the last record store
in America—down on the Mississippi Delta—
just before my car runs out of gas.

Ladysmith Black Mambazo will greet me
at the door, and everyone will know me
by the soles of my shoes,
and there I will find in the stacks
the last vinyl copy of “Graceland”.
As I pay for this relic with cash,
the reddening sun will shine through the window.
They’ll close up the shop,
and the new sign on the door will say:
“Out of Business”.

As I crank up my car,
begging for the fumes to catch,
it will sputter, and die—
and I will give up my soul at last
and be at peace.

--------------------------------

BrianIs AtYou

[5th column]

You remember when I said you might have trouble following up on your father's poem? How wrong can you be. Giving Up My Soul is effortless and the voice is so consistent and unforced. I can't see much room for improvement that wouldn't detract from the originality and freshness of this draft. As Cookie would say 'awesome sauce'

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

You remember when I said you might have trouble following up on your father's poem? How wrong can you be. Giving Up My Soul is effortless and the voice is so consistent and unforced. I can't see much room for improvement that wouldn't detract from the originality and freshness of this draft. As Cookie as 'awesome sauce'

Thanks, 5th. I felt like I had a good idea when I started this, but it took some banging things together to get it to its current state. Earlier drafts were filled with a less certain voice.

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

A Maudlin Young Man

A maudlin young man would complain,
in sunshine, in fog, or in rain.
I wrote out a limerick,
and smote at that dimmer wit.
He moaned, "Sir, you rhyme, but in vain."

-------------------

BrianIs AtYou

PS

I felt that I needed a proper limerick sometime in the month.

[Mimic_Octopus]

There's a combination of wistfulness and mischief in your thread this year, Brian. I like your cat and chicken very much - neat timing and reminds me of the pieces that first got me interested in poetry, way back when. I also like your glimpses of Fuji, half-misted.

[billdozer]

Brian, I keep thinking I have shared my appreciation to your thread, but it seems I haven't got as far as hitting "post reply." I sneak reads here at work and am forever interrupted. I've enjoyed the smiles and trials. The Graceland/Ladysmith riffs of Give up my Soul are engaging, there's a complexity that invites repeat reading just as a pop album would. S3 works least well for me because it seems a clunky list and so less personal. The fumes and release at the end have a slight hint of suicide rather than ascension and I'm not sure you intend that. Sorry I haven't time now to call out highlights from the others. Best wishes, though.

[Scrow]

Hello,

I like the storytelling in ‘Never Easy’ – the way you transform the myth into something very relevant and something like colloquial, even.

I think ‘Someday’ is amazing. It has lines that stop me in my tracks when reading.

“Give up my Soul’ is clever, lovely, and reassures me that you’re human. We need human poets, I reckon (much as we need human musicians like Paul Simon). Ooh, and ‘Graceland’ was the first album I ever bought.

Sarah

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

There's a combination of wistfulness and mischief in your thread this year, Brian. I like your cat and chicken very much - neat timing and reminds me of the pieces that first got me interested in poetry, way back when. I also like your glimpses of Fuji, half-misted.

Thanks, Mimic_Octopus, I'm glad you liek the cat and the chicken--now if only they could get along.

Fuji is a long-term project that I hope (someday soon) to be able to complete.

Brian, I keep thinking I have shared my appreciation to your thread, but it seems I haven't got as far as hitting "post reply." I sneak reads here at work and am forever interrupted. I've enjoyed the smiles and trials. The Graceland/Ladysmith riffs of Give up my Soul are engaging, there's a complexity that invites repeat reading just as a pop album would. S3 works least well for me because it seems a clunky list and so less personal. The fumes and release at the end have a slight hint of suicide rather than ascension and I'm not sure you intend that. Sorry I haven't time now to call out highlights from the others. Best wishes, though.

Thanks, Bill. Thanks for the comments on "Give up my Soul". I'm interested in your comments on S3, as that is the strophe that sets up the conditions necessary for the ending (specifically, the fact that the narrator is not in physical possession of a copy of the album).

I'll think about the ending as well. I was not thinking in terms of suicide, so I would rather not give that impression.

Hello,

I like the storytelling in ‘Never Easy’ – the way you transform the myth into something very relevant and something like colloquial, even.

I think ‘Someday’ is amazing. It has lines that stop me in my tracks when reading.

“Give up my Soul’ is clever, lovely, and reassures me that you’re human. We need human poets, I reckon (much as we need human musicians like Paul Simon). Ooh, and ‘Graceland’ was the first album I ever bought.

Sarah

Thanks, Sarah. "Never Easy" had its seed in a discussion that I had with a friend about the difficult situation I have been in for a long time with my parents, and the care that they need during the end of life. He had been in a similar situation with his father, and other loved ones. My father passed last December, but I still feel like I am in a Sisyphean scenario with my mother's care. There is always one more thing, and every attempt at progress just leaves you further down. Even little things that make it "easier", do not make it "easy".

I'm glad you like "Someday". I was trying to write it as a suitable wrap up for the Fuji series, which is near completion.44

I'm also glad you like "Give up my Soul". I'm a big fan of the Graceland album (and much of Simon's other work).

I am concerned, however, that without "Give up my Soul", I may have not appeared human. However, that is a difficult assessment to make over the Internet.

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Forever

I am dead here with you in the ocean.
I am drowned here with you in the sea.
I am lost, and the sky saw me fall from on high,
as I dreamed of rebirth as a tree.

You are dead to the men and machines.
You are drowned, but you never saw me.
You are lost, and you sigh, as you fall from the sky,
and you think back to home, and Marie.

You and I are both dead to our countries.
You and I are both drowned—we're debris.
You and I are both lost, and we paid the full cost.
You and I are not offered a plea.

We are dead, and we died here alone.
We are drowned, though they said that can't be.
We are lost, and we've found that the ones that have drowned
are forever the ghosts of the sea.

----------------------

BrianIs AtYou

[GreaterMandalaofUselessness]

Give up my soul I know this album very well, so I got all the references. Like you, no longer have a copy, gave up on vinyl a while back and never bought the CD. I enjoyed this throughout, and I like the way it develops beyond simply name-checking the tracks into a fin de siecle poem; the end of the vinyl era and the end of N. There's a sense of loss permeating the playfulness, and that's a combination I'm fond of.

I initially read Forever is a sort of sea shanty of lost love "I am drowned here with you in the sea." but the more I reread it, the more I think of the hundreds of illegal immigrants who drowned in the Mediterranean this week, especially S3 & 4.

-Matt

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Give up my soul I know this album very well, so I got all the references. Like you, no longer have a copy, gave up on vinyl a while back and never bought the CD. I enjoyed this throughout, and I like the way it develops beyond simply name-checking the tracks into a fin de siecle poem; the end of the vinyl era and the end of N. There's a sense of loss permeating the playfulness, and that's a combination I'm fond of.

I initially read Forever is a sort of sea shanty of lost love "I am drowned here with you in the sea." but the more I reread it, the more I think of the hundreds of illegal immigrants who drowned in the Mediterranean this week, especially S3 & 4.

-Matt

Thanks,Matt. I tried to keep "Give up my Soul" from just being "name-checking", brought in a little real life (singing "Under African Skies" as a duet with my friend Nathan) and thinking about all the changes in the world.

You thoughts on "Forever" are interesting. Something to think about.

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

The Tea Plantation of Katakura in Suruga Province


Click for Full size

No samurai walks
Katakura’s fields today,
though the swordsman’s skills
were of as little use then
to farmers as they are now.

More likely than not,
he would know The Way of Tea—
and ceremony’s
porcelain grace—better than
The Swordsman's Way—Bushido.

The ones who know best
the old ways are the farmers.
Then, too, the horses
have their horse sense, and could laugh
at farmers and samurai—

at pomposity
of all kinds. There is fine hay
and silage, but fools
gather tea in great baskets,
when one could have run a race.

The men, in turn, scorn
the beasts of burden, and are
themselves but wise beasts—
nay, foolish beasts—with burdens
bowing their backs and shoulders.

The women chatter
quietly amongst themselves.
It is their small hands
that do the delicate work.
Round hats, kimonos, and sweat
 
are the women's lot.
Gossip is what holds them all
together. Fuji
has more grace than a swordsman,
more knowledge of the old ways

than any farmer,
more horse sense than any beast.
Fuji is wiser
than any man—and women
grow silent when Fuji speaks.

-------------------------------

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Another Notch


A soldier whose friend has been killed in action is comforted by another soldier. Haktong-ni area, Korea.
Photo credit: Sfc. Al Chang. (Army) August 28, 1950, Public Domain
http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?...enSoldier1.jpg

We pretend we are the camera,
impersonal and observant,
recording a poignant moment
with an emotionless and objective eye—
the mourning of a soldier
for a lost friend, a comrade-in-arms.

The camera confers on us
the integrity of a journalist,
a high calling,
protected by custom and law
for the furtherance of truth.

We try to believe this—
but we easily become voyeurs
who find it easy to forget
that there is another man,
not one of the three in the picture—
not even the fourth, the camera’s eye—
a man whose image we do not see,
a man who died, a friend,
whose death has made this moment possible.

I am a poet-voyeur,
hoping to make art
secondhand,
fulfilling a quota.

Perhaps the photographer, too—
Sergeant First Class Al Chang, U.S. Army—
was fulfilling a quota:
a painful job that he was paid to do,

while I, the poet-voyeur,
a half century or more after this tragic scene,
just hope to make another notch,
scribble some words,
until tomorrow,
when another notch must be made.

There are others,
just doing their jobs—
the corpsman in the background
fills out casualty tags.
He concentrates on his task,
not looking up,
because he fears to become
what we fear ourselves already to be,
and he knows that he, too,
could be the next one to be mourned.

And you—
you, too, are a voyeur,
reading distractedly—
your mind, perhaps, more on your own personal quotas,
but feeling a guilty obligation
to read my words,
to offer some platitude as payment.
Did you look at the picture?
Did you read my words?

Have you filled your quota today?

----------------------

BrianIs AtYou

[Steven]

I enjoyed 'The Tea Plantation of Katakura in Suruga Province' which had much more of a domestic presence than any of the previous installments.

The most enjoyable parts of the poem, for me, were from stanzas 5-7, particularly for the sounds that got across that domestic aspects. Some suitably nimble writing to describe the nimbe gossip and craft of these women.

Fine work, Brian. God knows how you do it, but full credit.

Thanks also for the link to the Cotopaxi painting.