I met Mike at a tapas bar where I was having a date with my person and he was having a goodbye dinner with a friend before moving away. We talked about what draws us to a place or away from it, and what we leave behind in a city. When I asked for a word, he answered easily because he—and his friend agreed—had a single word that he used all the time.
The Stranger: Mike
The Word: Phenomenal
The poem I wrote:
Once upon a time in a faraway land, a blue wind rounded a mountain and
came face to face with a red tsunami. Hello, said the wind. Care to go for a
stroll? The weather tonight is phenomenal. The tsunami was a shy storm;
when not roaring and destroying villages, which he did as a profession
but not as a hobby, he enjoyed making flowers out of crepe paper, doing
yoga, and gardening. Red Tsunami was not certain he trusted Blue Wind.
But there was something in how she asked, some tilt in her gusty bravado,
the way she brushed against trees and spread up tall into the sky, how she
ruffled the backs of dogs’ necks (such power, such delicacy) that he said yes.
They stormed off to have a couple of martinis, backs to the purpling sunset.
The Challenge: Do you have a poem in you on this word? Write one here.
May 31, 2019 at 9:24 am
A Storm in June
Don’t tell me yet
about charged particles
or the runaway breakdown
of cosmic rays.
I feel the veil of June,
solstice thin,
slide from the skin of experience.
I see
our phenomenal earth…
not struck by lightning,
but seducing that kiss from the sky
and submitting to fire.
May 31, 2019 at 8:25 pm
Wish Fulfillment
The pantheons of Gods and Goddess,
The Holy Trinity, Angels, and Saints
Manifested special magic powers,
In defense of the meek and faint.
Might I suggest a parallel?
One we find in modern times
To salve our needs and our desires,
We have Beings of Our Design.
We have figures found in fantasy,
Wielders of Ice, Air, and Fire,
Creatures of great strength and will,
Some who will save us when all is dire.
You may find it comic
That, on the illustrated page,
Conflicts black and white and in color
Conflagrate in consuming rage.
Spiderman, Superman, and Wonder Woman.
Hail our new Patron Saints
Exhibiting powers, phenomenal, so
We can dream of what we ain’t.
Is it really so very different?
The Phantasmagoric fulfilling wishes?
Gods of Earth, Sun, and Sea
Or Comic Book Heroes filling niches.
Are there any brand-new stories?
Our psyches battle in constant rage.
Carl Jung had his archetypes,
Larger than life, leap from the page.
They are in every myth and tale,
In all language, in all times,
In all goodness and the wicked,
Strengths and weakness, both consigned.
Have we not wanted super powers?
Like to pull a car from a ditch?
Leap a building in a single bound?
Manifest a ham sandwich?
Be a hero in your own story
In your dreams, you get to choose.
Wield a sword, use x-ray vision.
In flights of fancy, you can’t lose.
June 4, 2019 at 7:38 am
Time Passes
In memoriam Andrew Massey
A yet doth beauty like a dial’s hand
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived.
But it is not phenomenal: I have no
Sense of is passing, though
It leaves traces
Spreads wrinkles on my surfaces
Drags memories away, as glaciers
Drag boulders,
And deposits new ones
On my mind.
But it is not noumenal: I have no
Idea of its passing, though
It seduces: as a siren lures boats,
Time entices thoughts
To vacancies of metaphysics
Where every word lacks
Meaning, and airy nothings
Occupy my mind.
Two worlds, two only (says the philosopher),
Phenomenal and noumenal,
But none where the passing of time
May be known or felt.
Time passes. Glaciers too recede
And we know them by what they leave behind
And what they carry far away.
Time passes.