Viewing entries tagged
taiwan

coven

late lunch & one last mission, the threads are ready for our braiding

no more fending off the wild dogs; we’ve reached our weekend covenstead


we sit in circle, cense our space, chakras opening, intentions set,

postures more mindful, all eyes gentle, eclectic witches ready to begin

vibrations roll before smoky voices, we take our turns


rented glass walls cannot contain impending soft sob

wails, we picnic beneath the kind of trees & muted stars

the taiwanese city won’t afford


lush tropics against the white panes, we from our countries and our continents

linking this tongue in a foreign scape to call & cradle

universal strengths


white pillows, storied crystals, black clothes & bodies brushed

grass beneath us, mats, decks, speakers, games,

potions portioned, glasses filled, testaments & sage


we took our borrowed broom, teetering along unknown outline rice paddies

we had thought we’d reach the ocean, but we’re all

one another needs


smudged and elevating, we initiated narratives

witnessing generational culminations

in crises pulling us taut


communal kitchen morning, red wax leftovers,

time lent for external give back

now cleansing work

concoctions and methods shared

the return nostalgic, ending in black capped

pressure & a soak


among our coven so it was, and is, and will be

it has become written—we reconvene this thursday

on a full moon’s eve

a park

a spot subtropical:

first breezed in unwanted

cutting humidity with knife knees

searching while staying

where it’s been paved


a sunday gazebo filled

with unknowns

invitations and exchanges

uncomfortably gazing past—

there must be more like yourself


an old vietnamese blanket

added hopefully

to shape of foreign wrinkled sheets;

placing self then self-consciously

alone among a tribe


beneath since that time

pinned palm trees

your cooking & your cutlery,

a pile of books, homebrewed coffee,

strong speaker, same crimson and mustard woven blanket underneath


at peace

as one without your pack;

a few years and finally

memories overturn in day haze

gutteral gratitude, belly down on

yellow leaf peppered grass



after manners of the savages, formosa 1928

after manners of the savages, formosa 1928

the whites of your feathers and the roundness of your symmetries

the skyblue adornments as backdrop and accessory,

the thatched dwelling harmonious, linear, with purer purpose

 

the fresh pink of your crown and the bands at your knees, 

the cheekbones of sepia and the ligaments strong,

the black wraps on your bodies more essence than black sand beneath

 

the beads of color indicative, long, the clasp to hold longer,

the stripes with intent, stitched for time and its passages,

the feet adapted, the shoulders back, the stares the proudest of all

 

if these are the manners stamped as savage in sand a century before, how do our

meticulous sound systems,

bamboo attempts at fortitude,

synthetic searches for safety,

frond waving sinews of exhaustion,

feminist proclivities,

widening pupillary ethereality, and

dulled with dirt ersatz adornments

on the gods' manicured hills

have room for the way we choose to bend?

taipei: a haibun

heavy, filthied silver and red panes run perpendicular to the slabs of city cement. christmas striped paths to lead the denizens in walking safely, always to the side. swaying gently above, but not against these rectangles of man-made stability and direction, are innumerable trailing droplets of lush green life. vines infinitely smaller than the once clear pipes terminating in never been white buckets, each lain in moldy snaking rows: clogging the bronchial tubes of the city, leaving her diurnally begging for clarity. greyscale gestates with the summer heat, swelling the corrugated passageways with hand-sewn nylon attempts at protection, the rhythmic ballooning and contracting, dampened unskilled hands running up and down, the sweat of the uninitiated streaming quicker.

wishing winds to whisper balance

each palpation assumes

a clean rinse

taiwanese water torture

it wears a thick winter coat of dirt

seven crescent moons instantaneously encrusted

as the pale plastic crevice peeks uncovered

 

to have sopped up

spilt liquid laundry

on the sacred space:

post-monday morning

 

antennae, lint, suds

satanized in place of sanitation

pads blistering?, heaving past the muddy tinkle

exhaustion resists reflection

while the light’s this bad

—at least