Monday, February 16, 2015

Quiet Time


All is well. I am reading, writing, and dreaming to my heart’s content. I have stepped away from blogging and Facebook activities for a time — a week, a month, a year, today, tomorrow, I really have no idea, and I most certainly intend no statement by it. I wouldn’t even call it a decision. I am simply following a natural impulse, like any restless bird on the verge of coming spring. During this quiet time, should you care to write, or need to get in touch for any reason, my email address is easily found. Otherwise, my website and all 2,554 entries of Recently Banned Literature are at your disposal. Who knows what you might find there? I am still pleasantly surprised and embarrassed myself from time to time. Until later, then, and ever with thanks,

William Michaelian



Saturday, February 7, 2015

Mist


The sweet pain of this world

and how your hand

guides the grape

by the light

of your tongue

(as a wish makes a veil makes a place makes a dawn)




Friday, February 6, 2015

Canvas 534



Canvas 534

February 6, 2015




It need not be


The fact is, I live an extraordinary dream-life — except that it need not be a fact, or a dream, or a life. I simply dream the fact that I live, and live the fact that I dream. I dream, living, and live, dreaming — a snowflake one moment, a star the next — when, out of nowhere, comes a voice, a hand, a shower of senses — and I remember how foolish it is to speak of such things, and so I say the words anyway, or dream that I am saying them. And that is my life — except that it need not be so — it need not — no, not at all. Until now, love. A shower of hands. The sky is about to fall.



Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Canvas 532



as words once said soon take flight
from each strong bough in winter white
one more dance is black’s delight



Canvas 532

February 4, 2015




Sunday, February 1, 2015

Canvas 528



Canvas 528

February 1, 2015




Meditation


Irises alive in winter-wet ground, mud-stained fingers,
a bucket of aromatic, tender-green weeds,

and other familiar dreams,
as gladness is presence attentive to things.