The idea that there are certain kinds of behavior that must be punished — where has it come from, and why is it so widely accepted? Why do millions of people call for the punishment of corrupt politicians? Why do they desire so strongly to see them punished? And what of the millions of others who emulate and praise their behavior, and see it not as evil, but as good? […]
There is talk of more snow. The mossy wall. The crocus. The daffodil. February 11, 2021 Oku no HosomichiJanuary 23, 2017 . [ 1017 ]
Evil, it seems to me, is an acute form of ignorance. If I have time to be angry, then I must also have time to love. And if I love, I have no time to be angry. And time itself is an illusion. Will these words reach you before we are gone? Will they reach anyone? What can that matter, if we love? Recently Banned Literature, February 21, 2018 . […]
Sometimes, as I sit here writing in the dark, I feel as if my hands belong to someone else working just beyond the veil — a parallel realm in which objects roam free of any given meaning, and the sound of a passing train — I hear it now — is that someone’s remembered childhood. “Arrival” Poems, Slightly Used, February 18, 2010 . Revival . . . and now / […]
Observe, listen to your body. It always speaks the truth, sometimes loudly, sometimes softly. In every muscle, wrinkle, and cell, it shows, demonstrates, reminds, proves. The mind is a storyteller. The body is the story’s meaning revealed. The mind says, I need coffee, I need pills, I need eight hours of sleep, I need gravy, I need meat. The body replies with aches and pains. It gives you clouds. It […]
Am I being vague? I don’t mean to be. I love words. And they love me. We’re naturally hesitant, wondering, each time we meet, who will be the first to speak. What should we mean? We aren’t nails hammered through wood. We’re more like butterflies, or bees with pollen on our toes. Documents? Manifestos? We laugh. We can’t all be bibles or epitaphs. Some of us must be free. Recently […]
Yesterday evening after dark, we had the universe to ourselves. So it seemed, so it felt, out walking under the clouds and stars, knowing full well that the clouds and stars were under us as well, making us as round as this dear round globe. Above us, though, in the swath that was visible to our bare naked eyes, were majestic rivers — rivers of illuminated clouds in galactic strands; […]
Walking in the direction of low racing clouds lit by the city, I keep pace long enough to take flight — too weightless to be wrong, too dizzy to be right. February 5, 2021 . [ 1011 ]
Fennel seed tea with just a bit of blackberry honey: a timely cure for all the physical and mental ailments of which I remain unaware. On the path beyond Goose Lake, we came to a place where a tree was down, blocking our way. Just inside the network of slender bare branches, there were two brown rabbits. They kept their eyes on us as we made the long way around. […]
Tiny wren on a thorny bare rose. Enlightenment is not a pose. February 3, 2021. Afternoon. . [ 1009 ]
William Michaelian 
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