[poem about where i was, where i am, now – and not letting go, for various reasons & dentistry]
Closing loops of past lives
errors & eras alike
epochs at the time
now addresses on file
Accidential safe houses
Each with a similar go-bag
Essentials: postcards, pens, inky stamps, pipe, various disguises
Importantly: toothbrush and floss
Despite all of that,
a goofy grin'd & metal free mouth
now features a Grand Canyon
- verily, unwanted
"Oh nimble fingers of well-educated and highly-skilled women, patch me up with porcelain and drills"
Then maybe dust off the front
so im not biting my lip in snaps
[Yes I know: late night snacks, Chinese medicines, endless cappuccinos something something]
Yes, I disappear from time to time
I pretend to share it all,
But I don't this of course is obvious
There are parts of me unreconciled – i'll assume you are the same, because assumptions are underrated
For your correspondent,
country by country –
Former "homes" demolished, crash pads, storage lockers, mail drops, way-station, gurst-house & occasional warm-water bed-sits
I collect the items and artifacts
filed into files
despite Buddhist insistence about "letting go"
Blerg!
I am a maximalist
I create things from the materials cast aside
*Everything* has many lives until reaching a perfected exalted state:
The hotel stationery, the coasters, the match packets, well stamped postal covers with such dreams and intentions written in my native language yet a script which I can't quite figure
These were created with affection and I would be unaffectionate to cast them into a bin or decomposition
So i composite
Substrates upon items
In reverse
though various, nothing is random
Everything is an intentional act
Little Bay, Pacifica, OlyWa, Esquimalt, Alas Manis, Victoria Drive, Karapitiya – lost and found
Amongst, most salient
Notes to future self
The "when written, unaware"
When opened, the ringing of a bell, the thwack of a read stick imploring zazen posture when legs are too numb to carry-on
So, extra cargo charges
willingly paid
for safe return of memories
& materiel
Artifacts required to answer:
How well did you love?
How well were you loved?
How well did you let go?
I say rather, "how did you hold on?"
Letting go is easy, I try *desperately* daily to "not let go"
You've heard me scribble,
"We are the stories that we share"
– through chisels in Tenino, pencils in Providence, scissors and glue in another hospital – all measured with the same weight
I've made a song and you have too.
Old Uncle Walt call it "a song of yourself"
Yet "letting everything go" means that even old Gautama's musings would've faded with
an unapplied patch, without indexing, without copying and pasting
Without required updates in communication medium,
The message is not
Existing
So, well-stocked with what appears at first blush easily replaceable shoeboxes
Requiring labels, folios and drawers
[sort-ganizing]
I'm here forever, my address will remain unchanged
I'm not going to come visit, but turns out the ships and planes both go both ways
Last night before bath
I wrote shodo ink for wife
teaching beloved tea ceremony
in English (practiced several times exactly a year ago with folks who came to Okayama rather than just asking for "what are the best things to do in Japan in three days")
Accompanied by a tiny version of me
Rambunctious swinging with thoughtful
[We eat cheese and crackers, warm milk and sit close together in the bath 42°]
Always rocking magnetic smile
– reminds me of his mother and his grandmother – the one he won't meet, remind me of me as reminded by bold love
and packing a variety of poses which he declares as "Mine" // off-limits to use without permission, verbally granted
Now for me (and you in my satchel in a field notes book) after oatmeal, comes a bus ride, earplugs and an eye mask
The items are sequestered
In a solid storehouse
Blessed by a Shinto priest
white robes and a fabulous hat
Awaiting katazuke
best with records and incense
Yup, less pretty for a minute
– nothing is temporary, nothing is forever
Love, be loved,
and "hold on"
smiling on the inside
##
54 years a big goofy grin
A mouth proudly full
