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Saturday, November 3, 2012

Teacup in a Storm


A teacup in a storm
can remain on a dining table
on a slab of concrete
or land in a field thirty miles away,
unbroken.

This is like Tao.
The standing still in chaos.
The sweeping through in a rage.
The blowing in without warning.

1 comment:

  1. Dr. MikeNovember 3, 2012 at 9:09 PM

    Impermanence
    [For Sam Breashears]

    On thought’s peripheries
    Trailing into smoke
    An artist aches for stories
    That sharpen and provoke.

    I clutch my tattered cloak
    And rattle a tin cup
    Feeling lost and broke
    While winter fills me up.

    A beggar in the dark
    Listens for some coin
    The moon might break apart
    So visions may conjoin.

    Troubled by this sweep
    Of incoherence, blind,
    Before I get some sleep
    I need to find my mind.

    [Disposable Poem November 3, 2012]
    Dr. Mike

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