Be No One
It’s useless for you to try to be like me, or for me to try to be like you, or even for us to try to be like ourselves. Rather, let’s set that notion aside and be no one — completely, fully, freely, dynamically. . [ 1595 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Identity’
Sings the Stream
This thing you call effort, sings the stream — why do you still cling to it so? . [ 1589 ]
If Ever
If ever I were to strike out what I don’t understand, What would stop me from striking out more each day, Until at last I’ve stricken out everything, Except my own poor ignorance? . [ 1574 ]
I Do This
Between what I can do and what I can’t, Is a lifetime of what I did and what I didn’t, when I could. Now I do this, without wondering if I should, if it’s bad, or if it’s good. I do this, tho’ the doing’s hardly doing, and the done is never done. I do this, ’cause the doer’s here to do it, Tho’ ’times it seems he’s gone. . […]
The Reckoning
When the river’s low and seems lazy and unconcerned, Memory’s a winding path through the old cottonwoods on the floodplain. Come back in spring. Be here for the reckoning. . [ 1564 ]
Misguided Logic
People say I’m not myself. I thank them for the blessing. This, they claim, is proof — Proof that they are guessing. . [ 1554 ]
As If the Time Has Come
My memory’s not what it used to be. There’s more room inside it now, As if the time has come For something new to grow. . [ 1553 ]
Dream Fall
To the bird that let go of me high above a mountain lake, my deepest thanks . [ 1547 ]
Pity and Desire
The star was a bright one. But when I got there, All I found was an old man warming his hands by a fire. It took my whole life, he said, and all of my breath, to prove I wasn’t a liar. Ever since then, I’ve felt pity for God, and questioned my own desire. . [ 1538 ]
The Mask
Warm, cloudy, humid. Fires east, fires south. And here I am, recognizing once again the sheer luxury it is to be able, for so long, to pursue my tiny line of thinking — to read my books, to write my notes and poems and then pretend them to the world — for pretending and publishing are much alike — tho’ the mask I wear is nearly identical to what it’s […]
William Michaelian 