ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS

sequence #
1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20

  keyword(s) in poems:

Sequence: 11

BEING AND NON-BEING
vastness goes...


FIREFLY NIGHTS
firefly nights and bloom...


SUMMER ENDING SOUNDS
cicada on a willow branch...


YOUR FACE IS HERE
I carry it in both hands...


COMPASS
to point the direction of time's arrow...


WHAT I HEARD
the same sound in the rain coming through the trees...


THE WORKS IN NEWARK AND FORT ANCIENT
the circle I stand in...


BECK'S MILL
stands of corn fields of grass and tall flowers...


THE DROUGHT OF 2002
remember rain...


WAITING FOR COOLER
over all the river lands...


untitled
through misfortune...


STONE QUARRIES
there was never...


CONVERSATION WITH FATE
fate can be found in all directions...


NEWS
here here here here here...


PARALLELS
what goes on at the same time...


OUT OF SLEEP
often when I wake before daylight...


TIME RELIGION
worshipped by ticks prayed to...


THIS AFTERNOON
I walked over the cemetary...


LATE IN SEPTEMBER
the bigger sky...


WHERE I COME FROM
farmers turning in their fields...


TWO BY TWO
in the iron-barred well of a basement window...


IN US
the day of your night is walking...


9/30/02
a crow like me squawks from some way off...


MY METHOD
my method...


TO THE FALLEN/IN PRAISE OF FALLING/THEFT OF LINES FROM TAYLOR
color of flame...


WEATHER
The door holds. Yesterday's violent red morning, today's steady...


CAUSE/EFFECT
because of mirrors I have a face...


PERSONAL REVELATIONS OF 2003
I am in my middle errors waiting in line to migrate...


THE ROADSIDE MARTYRS
there are no coffins under the crosses they only mark...


I LISTEN
even when no one is talking...


2/4/03
this morning the sky was a sea of clouds...


ENTRY FOR A CHRONICLE
In this year, people's talk was often of peace and war....


WIND REMEMBER
the wind blowing the winter I was 11 is still blowing...


HOLD ON
this is not...


MINUS WHATEVER MINUS
sky minus blue earth minus brown...


COMING ACROSS DEER TRACKS IN THE SNOW
my feet step where yours did...


MIRROR MYSELF
being invisible to myself...


SOMEONE AND ME
someone complained about my attitude...


3/22/03
dark the pillow from which dawn lifts its head...


OUR COURTHOUSE IS BEAUTIFUL
from the southwest corner on a clear April day...


LUCKY FOR NOW
I slept but all night in the constant rain...


APOLOGIZE BUT
I should apologize to the county...


VISITING T.C. STEELE'S HOUSE IN THE RAIN
the trees have had time...


METAPHOR
one thing is like another...


ITINERARY
I crossed the Wabash River...


ER
by which I mean Eric Rensberger...


7/20/03
no one to see...


READY I THOUGHT
I am ready I thought...


untitled
subtle...


CHILLY WITH
the window open...


THUNDER DAY
everything loses strength in the heat...


REMINDER
Last summer I looked for the bridge whose enormous piers cast the...


COUNTING UP TO 53
and counting again...


SUMMER NIGHT
day goes down...


JUST BEFORE BED
above the heart a sentence beats...


STORM DAMAGE
trees shattered...


MY HOUSE, A POEM
You are listening when I say that the great thing about a poem...


MARS GETS CLOSER
and catches us looking at him...


A GLIMPSE
for weeks we looked at the sky...

FOR SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE


I wear my pants
but my shoes are in my hand
I search my eyes in the mirror

for reverence and knowledge
I make my face hard as a frame
so my eyes in turn can be a mirror

they are brown and brown
they are bright in their sockets
when they are ready I put on my shirt

like the people of Thana
I am preparing myself to worship
the first thing I see in the morning
       ___________________

the door is guardian
to my tender hellos and farewells
and I worship the wood and the brass

the knob can latch or unlatch
so I must touch it and acknowledge
its usefulness for my staying or my leaving

which is holy either way
but the leaving is more likely
to make me love what is inside my house

the second thing I see
is the honeysuckle bush untended
so that it reaches out and up like a man

praising what he has
before him what he takes
into his mind to keep it right

in May the bush flowers
the scent goes blowing out
the bees are there in their hundreds

but the flowers
are there in thousands
and overwhelm the senses

of the bees and me
because it is of such value
I am sure the bush does the gods' will

and they love its scattered effects
as they do the teem of stars and planets
running circuits of praise in the fields of the night

or the face of the great sun
loving to give its heat to the creatures
who turn their prayers to the warm good above them
       _________________

and so I worship
things in the order I see them
I remember that Adam and Eve wept 100 years
         
after Paradise
till they filled a lake
at the top of a high mountain
         
and in the reeds
growing all round the lake
live crocodiles and other snakes
         
and at the bottom
mud like in any lake
only thicker and blacker
         
it smells like roses
there are precious stones in it
and pearls and gems like mens' eyes