Foregone: Heraclitus From Α To Ω

He who said 

The Logos is eternal, 

 

Which is to say 

It has been here 

From the beginning

And shall continue to be,

 

 

And strange as it might 

Sound, some have heard it 

And some have not, while 

Others have heard it 

And not understood; 

 

Those most curious 

Have sought it out so 

As to find out why, only 

To find that it speaks 

Mostly in mute riddles leading 

To a puzzling, though 

Far and away most logical 

Conclusion.

 

Riming Zen Beat Master

Know this much: Nothing’s worth 

 

More than having all the tea 

In China and never once having 

 

Sipped a single sip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As God Is My Witness

Looking back, we see

 

There are many things 

One can say 

About keeping silent 

 

In the face 

Of unspeakable crime— 

 

Taking it forward 

To your grave is not 

One of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speechless Before Starlings

They’ve just dropped 

In from out 

 

Of the heavens 

For the duration 

 

Of winter and are strung 

Out murmuring along 

 

The three telephone wires 

Opposite the house 

 

Like notes of a musical 

Score—no, something more like 

 

A long discrete succession 

Of commas taking 

 

Up every available space, 

Leaving no room—period— 

 

For words capable 

Of fulfilling 

 

That imminent,

Bewildering air. 

 

 

 

 

Haiku: Wanderlust

 

Itch to find yourself 

Elsewhere the moment you set 

Your footloose feet there.