William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Archive for September 2021

A Song on the Stove

I skipped coffee yesterday. That was a mistake. September 15, 2021 . A Song on the Stove I made some good coffee this morning. The taste varies, you know. I use an old pot. It’s the one my parents used back in the day. No special science, simply a perking paradise of memory and aroma. We’d go camping in the mountains and the pot would go with us. Or company […]

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A Way of Life

Imagine a race of beings so in love with themselves, so jaded, so steeped in their bitterness, that they choose daily to revel in their own righteous filth. Impossible, of course. Yellowed cottonwood leaves on the trail. The trees shudder to think. Gray skies all day without a hint of blue, the smoke pushed east again for a time. Broken green husks of walnuts on the steps. Squirrels, or birds? […]

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In So Many Words

Another nuthatch visit. This time, while I was filling the birdbath, one came down from the birch tree and landed on the edge, within two feet of where I was standing. Was the drink it took meant to satisfy it, or me? Both — and the water itself. There is no such thing as a foreign language in this musical world. September 9, 2021 . [ 1224 ]

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Tell Me

Smoke. But we have windows. Through and between smudges and spots, we view a tiny part of the world. Mystery. But we have knowledge. Through and between fear and belief, we view a tiny part of ourselves. September 8, 2021 . Tell Me If you cannot see the beauty, in your beard, in your body, in the brevity, abundance, or absence, of your own tender breasts; the down, or the […]

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The Way You Look At Me

The metronome atop my piano teacher’s shiny black grand — naturally I thought of it as having a life of its own. September 6, 2021 . The Way You Look At Me Your little craft, on a boundless sea; the sea, itself, so small, as to be a leaf, or breath, between two stars, suspended, by the motion, in between; the motion, a song; the song, as vague as clear […]

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And What Does the Say Sing?

From the beginning, one by one, these pages proclaim, We are karma. Before dawn, a sliver moon, the rest of its shadow clearly visible. This morning’s sunflower visitors: chickadees, nuthatches, scrub jays, squirrels — all talkative, reveling in what they have found, telling all the world. Thrice exalted: first by your kind presence; then by my short fast; and finally in answering the call of my hunger. September 5, 2021 […]

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Memorial

Reading old dreams — as if the mind, upon entering, were a cave. September 4, 2021 . Memorial My day began in the middle of the night when, after emerging from a tall building that consisted only of stairs, landings, windows, and walls, I met a friend in an open grassy area that might have been a cemetery had there been any graves. The friend, a poet with whom I […]

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Smoke in the Canyon

How proud we are of the useless nonsense recorded in our brains — jingles, slogans, brands, styles, and trivia of every kind — none of which truly enriches our lives or helps us survive. That these things have replaced a dependable catalog of natural wonders, such as bird song, the habits of insects, and the subtle changes in our environment and signs in the weather, is a sad commentary on […]

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