Some nights... Naomi Shihab Nye,“Hello” Some mornings shy at the dawn,some claw the night to death.We slid into Fridaylike a Sunday afternoon.But soon it bakedour clay in blood.Mid-seven,Mr. Jones scatteredall the birdswith his caw,while the dust danceddown sunlit slidesand the morningmauledthe dawn. © rl busséll 2021 - All rights reserved. Postscript: July 3, 1863 "The … Continue reading Morning’s Maul
So many eyes have seen this sea, they’re blind. one of thirty-six fishermen brave the high sea — mighty fuji’s seen meditate on where oh, place the kento1 with care — every part is spare the sea’s our lover her lovers brave her fury — lapis lazuli 2 my love’s a dragon Edo3 sees the … Continue reading The Great Wave
Painting: M. Caravaggio, 1601. Oil on canvas 91 inches x 69 inches. Located in the Saint Maria del Popolo Church, Rome. (Detail) Michael’s chiseled hands have 1not formed me as Adonis and yet Medusa’s writhing’s 2have made me as cold as stone. Alabaster arms,alabaster lips,a cold and lifeless form;Pygmalion’s infant 3breath lies ever stillborn.Yet, I … Continue reading Alabaster Arms
This day we’re meant to sing love’s newest note —to note Christ’s washing filthy toe and heel.“Lord, I’m a lamb, don’t treat me like a goat.”“If I don’t wash you — you, I’ll never heal.”“Then wash my feet, my hands, my head, my all.”“O children, I’ve but time to bathe your feet,after this night, after … Continue reading A Morning Crow
I have seen a widow’s walkwhere seven gables point the sky,and I have stared at chalkhoping to draw the perfect I.But why?Why set my feet where Hawthorne trod?Why practice to marry eye to hand?Why collect all those marksset to paper, board or ageless cloth?Why wonder at the ephemeral moth? © rl busséll 2021 - All … Continue reading Widow’s Walk
Painter. Profligate.Michelangelo, the fool. —Cardsharps in Kahn’s hall. Was there a time when demons conquered, stayed; when Anthony’s tormentors shied away?Why roam through Rome your bravado displayed; why take your eye from your vision to stray?Your meanest tableaus set my mind aflame;Your work has worked itself into myself; Your brush became my only brush with … Continue reading M. Caravaggio
Love’s a pool so strongthat it cures men’s maladies.My cure’s in her eyes. 1 © rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep:— Sonnet CLIII - William Shakespeare ↩
Your bed-vow breakinghas torn faith and broken oaths.You are fair. I lie.1© rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,— Sonnet CLII - William Shakespeare ↩
Love’s too young to knowwhat it is here to witness.In love I rise — fall.1© rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved Love is too young to know what conscience is;— Sonnet CLI - William Shakespeare ↩
What power caused meto love worthless worthiness?You hate, yet I love.1 © rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved O, from what power hast thou this powerful might— Sonnet CL - William Shakespeare ↩
Cruel, cruel, love,I worship your faults and yet,you love another.1 © rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, — Sonnet CXLIX - William Shakespeare ↩
Love’s the blindest guide.Love’s the most cunning liar.Blind men can’t but fall.1 © rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head, — Sonnet CXLVIII - William Shakespeare ↩
My love’s a fever;a disease that seeks no cure —My love’s black as hell.1© rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved My love is as a fever, longing still — Sonnet CXLVII - William Shakespeare ↩
Dearth-filled gaietypaints my body’s outward frame —death’s death brings me life1 © rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, — Sonnet CXLVI - William Shakespeare ↩
Love formed lips did hate,but straight ‘twas taught to greet thedawn with Love’s own song. 1 © rl busséll 2019 - All rights reserved Those lips that Love's own hand did make — Sonnet CXLV - William Shakespeare ↩
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