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It took so long for me to hear
the hum of blood under my skin:
I understood the words of that song.
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I like ambivalent weather best –
neither sun, nor rain, nor cold, nor heat.
Just these clouds. Gray cumuli.
And one cup of coffee in the morning.
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then the knight, steed, dragon, peaks and moon
all shouted – harum harum –
and began to dance
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i’m moving in directions unknown. not all the tracts in these latitudes are passable. check-points, shakedowns, bribes. usually i just play dumb. now the border guards are patting down Dante.
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you’re not reading a poem, it’s just how
I journalistically transmit that which
the gentle turbines of the dryer
churn out from my memory
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Unblock the frothing sun,
in the half-empty roiling city,
and drink from your hands –
this stone city turns eternal here.
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Haiga is a form of expression, originating from 17th c. Japan.
It is a subtle synthesis of two art forms, where a picture is connected to poetry.
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We were almost the same as several older generations
who conspired in shacks trying to change the world.
Thank God we didn’t crave power, only to be remembered.
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My last meal should be a poor man’s breakfast-
a slice of Lithuanian black bread
a hard boiled egg and a piece of
fat and just slightly salty Baltic herring
