Don’t count,
the old monk said.
You start
counting,
it becomes
a contest.
from The Old Monk Poems: Don’t count…
featured in the poetry forum May 16, 2021 :: 0 comments
editors note:
No score, no games. – mh clay
from The Woman in an Imaginary Painting: It comes through…
featured in the poetry forum March 13, 2021 :: 0 commentsIt comes through me,
she says. Like light.
As if I am
a cup waiting
on the table.
As if emptiness
attracts. As if
stillness rings like
a bell, the sound
singing its way,
and silence asks
wisdom for more.
editors note:
Sound from silence like color from white. (We welcome Tom to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay
from The Woman in an Imaginary Painting: The paradox…
featured in the poetry forum November 18, 2020 :: 0 commentsThe paradox is
that in her nakedness
she finds privacy.
We see skin but cannot
look within. A line
of darkness divides
her symmetry.
The mystery will
not open for us.
She is an entrance
you cannot enter.
editors note:
When an eyeful sees nothing. – mh clay
from The Woman in an Imaginary Painting: Cohesion…
featured in the poetry forum July 23, 2020 :: 0 commentsCohesion is a
promise we cannot
keep. Things fly
apart. That is
nature’s way.
Sometimes in our
foolish moments
we think that art
can stop the dis-
integration.
Art can’t start or
stop anything.
See: the paint is
already fading.
The woman
in the painting
is receding to
the farthest edge
of the universe,
or of what
will be left there
when we reach
that bitter end.
editors note:
Someone needs to paint that final picture. Let’s art anyway! – mh clay