William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Archive for November 2023

Blood to the Toes

The sunflowers aren’t quite to the skeletal stage, but with the frost upon them, their flesh is rapidly melting away. The birds still come, the scrub jays, nuthatches, and finches. It’s a talkative town, but in stark, fleet moments there’s a blackening sense of the approaching end of conversation, and of new beginnings that must wait their turn in the ground. . If I’m discovered to be mad, what of […]

Continue Reading →

A Hidden Life

What it comes down to, I suppose, is that most, if not all, of my behavior is neurotic. How could it be otherwise? I’m assaulted by the news of killings every day, of mass shootings and war; I’m exposed to incessant, unscrupulous advertising, noise, and to flashing, brightly lit screens; outdoors, I walk on concrete and asphalt, indoors on artificial flooring; I drive a car; I harvest most of my […]

Continue Reading →

Attracting Books

The keeping of bees is like the direction of sunbeams. —Henry David Thoreau I have a way of attracting books. A visit to the bookstore this morning turned up two enticing volumes, which are now here on my desk. One is a used Library of America edition of travel writing by Henry James: Collected Travel Writings: Great Britain and America. The book appears to be unread, and is in its […]

Continue Reading →

Old Grandpa Moon, Illustrated

Yesterday evening, I put the finishing touches on the presentation of a new illustrated edition of my children’s story, Old Grandpa Moon. The link is accessible from any page, beneath my name, the site title, and the picture of books. It’s the last link on the right, next to Keepsakes. Or, if you’re reading the email or WordPress Reader version of this note, you can visit the new stand-alone page […]

Continue Reading →

Double Mirrors

It’s an interesting notion, that if something is rare, it should cost a great deal, and turn a large profit. And it’s just as interesting, that if something is free and readily available, it should be thought of as common, and not rare at all. How different the world would be if supply and demand were guided by love, kindness, compassion, and wisdom. . To one degree or another, we […]

Continue Reading →

Gossip is Gossip

Let us not meet in the flesh; rather, let us love what we imagine all the more. Read The Rambler, Numb. 14. Saturday, May 5, 1750. Those whom the appearance of virtue, or the evidence of genius, have tempted to a nearer knowledge of the writer in whose performances they may be found, have indeed had frequent reason to repent their curiosity; the bubble that sparkled before them has become […]

Continue Reading →

A Regenerating Shudder

Monday morning. As colder weather is expected later in the week, we’ve begun the process of bringing in our plants for the winter. The Norfolk Island Pine is in, as are the two lacy asparagus ferns, both of which are in the full flush of new growth, which they put forth every year at this time; and yesterday, we moved the big philodendron — this time around, we were barely […]

Continue Reading →

Mossy Skin

Very high humidity, smoke, mold — is it any wonder the sinuses have been aching, and that the body has been laboring, the past few days? One looks at his mossy skin and isn’t surprised to find it seeping and dripping like the canyon walls. Gutter Journal, Numb. 2. October 22, 2023. Cleaned back gutters and downspouts. I didn’t read today. But I thought about it. October 22, 2023. . […]

Continue Reading →

Old Black Road

Mighty kingdoms come and go, falling leaves on the old black road. And it’s an easy breath, through the stars, past the clothesline, and over the tracks, Into the closed mind, and into the sad heart, of humanity. An easy breath — yes, and a mad spark, of sanity. . Read the sixty-fourth chapter of Middlemarch. October 21, 2023. . [ 1904 ]

Continue Reading →