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My Other NameMy Other Name

Sometimes it is to set out forks
beside each plate,
or folding shirts first,
dryer hot in the A.M.
half-dark.

Less often, thirsty from cutting trees
back away from the roof edge,
gutters clean.
Today, the dishes of breakfast clean,
draining, I
angle each blind against the sun,

sit then in the small cool
room,
feet flat upon the morning

The Crane Wife

The Crane Wife
                Does that bird
                think of bygone times
                as it flies singing...
                        - Princess Nukada

There on the poor man's doorstep,
an arrow biting into my wing,
I flew into the arms of decision –
m

ForbiddenForbidden
for Liu Xiaobo

Bold as palace tiles, yellow-glazed dawn
descends the Heavenly Gate,
setting itself upon the city of
emperors. There I am
arrested by your Tiananmen Square, Xiaobo;
there I am wondering

what it means to be forbidden –
as a palace, as
you, as words that, as love,
will be like always.

The Last SpeakerThe Last Speaker

Boa Sr, as you were known,
your passing parts land from earth,
earth from land, leaving no one
to lay your names upon the stones.

Now who is there to say, 'Mother –
Mother the howling wind, Mother
it has put night in my bones;
am I scared? Is that all

this is?' What should I call these
biscuits? How will I ask for scissors
without hearing you laugh
at what you've spoken

to yourself? How will my mouth
open to fruit peeled by the tongue
of its name? The sun is hot
as turtle bones roasting in fire.

The small boat of your sister's husband
approaches. A tree has fallen,
uprooted completely. I am
folding m

Put some original text herePut some original text here

and then a body underneath. Put down
that ants have gotten into the body,
that the roses are red as humble ants storming for a kiss
and the little legs of rain itself shall slumber
light underneath each horse,
each door, the dress, the grave.

This is my sad sharp lettering, my downpour
in the making – the mind brings the grave,
sweet violets soup the beloved's bed,
and we are motionless; we are
stopped with sense; we are bodies
within voices, the memory of glass.

Dress some original text here. Put out a love
to beat upon her door with its awful lettering,
a kiss to horse upon memory
lying there

Ademir ReturnsAdemir Returns

                                       A Brazilian bricklayer reportedly killed in a car crash
                           shocked his mourning family by showing up alive at his funeral.
                                                                                    – The Associated Press

This is how we will speak of that day –
We will say his legs walked him
out of death. We will say his steps
kicked their dust from the road
into the sky, and the sky touches everything
the road cannot. We will say we must
sometimes go forward to get back,
taking the hearts from these things

as we speak. We will say we

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Submitted: September 5, 2010
Image Size: 633 KB
Resolution: 2048×1536

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Comments: 13
Favourites: 10 [who?]
Views: 521 (0 today)
Downloads: 10 (0 today)

Camera Data

Make:Apple
Model:iPhone 3GS
Shutter Speed:1/168 second
Aperture:F/2.8
Focal Length:4 mm
ISO Speed:64
Date Taken:Sep 5, 2010, 11:59:03 AM

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Been waiting for...by *b1gfan

Photography / Urban & Rural / City Life

A life of shadows...

`VintageWarmth Sep 13, 2010 Professional General Artist

lovely simplicity, yet solely subdued .

I love the "hours". It seems to be "Time is critical" in my opinion. Lovely concept.

*b1gfan Sep 14, 2010 Student Writer

That is very kind of you my friend

I appreciate your opinion a great deal

!Ghost-Communion Sep 9, 2010

I like the simplicity of this, very cool

*b1gfan Sep 9, 2010 Student Writer

Thank you Josh

~PrettyCrazy Sep 7, 2010 Hobbyist Writer

Such crisp lines!

*b1gfan Sep 7, 2010 Student Writer

For a shot that's all shadows it makes me happy that they are all so sharp.

~romanysoup Sep 6, 2010 Hobbyist Artist

Nice clarity.

Glad to see you around.

*b1gfan Sep 6, 2010 Student Writer

Glad to be around

and to know that you're here too

~Ceruleanfirefly Sep 5, 2010 Student General Artist

Nice to see you posting something again. Haven't seen you around in a while. Hope all is well.

Anyways, this is pretty cool. The long shadow reminds me of the hand of a clock...I like this; it's really simple looking, but I like it because of that. It lets you feel and make your own meaning/interpretation of it.

*b1gfan Sep 5, 2010 Student Writer

Thank you Emily. My pen has been a bit dry lately, it's true. But, like everything, that's temporary

In the meantime I was lucky enough to be standing around waiting for my laundry to finish at the laundromat and this shadow was too good to pass up; the lines are just so wonderfully clean

Thanks for checking in one me my friend

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