Saturday, June 18, 2011

In my garden


You crave attention, but conceal your broken heart. Tell me, how will I know you? And how will you know me? Our triumph is not in being seen or heard. It’s in our love for one another. In my garden are fading irises — barren nuns, hooded monks. They bloom for just a month. But they live and dream the whole year ’round.


10 comments:

Old 333 said...

I like to cut their heads off and listen to them bubble screams under water.

Actually, like some famous philosopher, I tend to leave them in the garden, for that very reason. Iris flowers are indeed the ultimate ephemeral: too pretty and flimsy to be real except when they are right there in front of you, all nodding and droplets. I took the frames off all my peonies: free the peonies! They love to fall down.

William Michaelian said...

Ah, yes — a signature Peter Greene response, full of insight, violence, and merriment. The Aqualung of mad philosophers out for a stroll.

RUDHI - Chance said...

Nice impression!

William Michaelian said...

Hello, Rudhi. Thank you!

Harry Kent said...

Beautifully observed, William.

The poppy has been my teacher. It taught me that brevity and smallness are no measure of meaning.

It follows that just because the universe is big doesn't mean my art is pointless. Or that because my life is finite that it was never worth the living.

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Harry. I wholeheartedly agree, and it also follows that this universe might well fit inside another universe’s pocket, ad infinitum.

Theanne and Baron said...

the post and comments...definitely thought provoking!

William Michaelian said...

We do have our fun, Theanne. I’m glad you’re part of it.

erin said...

i'm not sure how to ever get beyond this poem. i could be lost in these corridors forever. and that might just be alright.

it is the witnessing though, isn't it? but it is the honest witnessing. here, my throat. here, your bloody chest. we are all bleeding. we are all dying. we are all beautiful for a moment.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

Erin, is that you or sunlight that just entered my garden? Either way, I see a bit more clearly now.