William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Life’

Thistledown

O, dear one, life is a lightly blown kiss. Can you imagine a love like this? Or will you choose pride, regret, and loneliness? “Which Way the Breeze?” Recently Banned Literature, August 2, 2017 . Thistledown Freedom is the art of letting go, now, of all that will be washed away in the end — our prejudices and cares, our politics, arrogance, religion, and despair, our national identities, our borders, […]

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Lovers’ Waltz

There’s not one thing in this wide world that’s shunned by life or overlooked — no blade of grass, no grain of sand, no rock or shell, no ocean wave, no gull, no tree, no sun, no moon, no snail. Each, in its given way and time, trembles and is known; each sways and nods and bows; each is part of a timeless dance, even in its temporary death and […]

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Something Between Us

I scratch the surface. It laughs, and scratches back. . Something Between Us It’s natural that we probe the universe for signs of life, but remember: the universe itself is a living thing, and the seeming nothingness we call space is as vital to our existence as that which, to our perception, we find it contains. We may classify space as nothing, or call it emptiness, but it’s the medium […]

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Lilacs and Apricots

Trust — surrender your control. It’s a fiction anyway. . Lilacs and Apricots The time in this kingdom between lilacs and apricots, when rainbows are bridges and nights are cool, when fate is as silent as the tombs are still, the throne is for children to ascend at will. Recently Banned Literature, May 19, 2014 . [ 1083 ]

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Tragedies and Toy Soldiers

We are the bird, the cloud, the drifting insect. We are the waterfall. We are delicate bits of dandelion fluff. We are all of space, and all that space contains. And we contain that space: space enters and leaves our bodies with every breath. Space is not only out there, where the stars are. It is here, where Earth is, and where we are. And we — you, I, and […]

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Canvas 380 — Wild Out, Wild In

You’re reading about a storm during a storm, and then, shivering, you look up. Much to your surprise, you find the trees calm, the street quiet, and the lamplight unwavering. You look back at your book: a mute brick: ink: paper: binding. You decide to rest your eyes. You close them. Here it is again! Here comes the wind! It’s wild out. It’s wild in. And it only ends when […]

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Mortality: Three Short Poems

The rain isn’t falling in huge amounts, but there’s enough of it every day to keep things glistening and drenched. There are piles of ice storm debris to attend to, but getting to them leaves deep footprints, where miniature lakes form, not in the shape of Italy’s boot, but in Oregon’s mud-and-moss-encrusted hiking shoe. And so that work waits — or, rather, the worker waits, while the debris does what […]

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Old Man Winter

Should I fall asleep and never waken — but what if that has already happened, and this life I have lived, and am living still, is but an instant of the dreamy outcome? . Old Man Winter Daylight spilling from his tattered sack takes all night to reach the ground. I’m a penny on a railroad track. Choo-choo. Choo-choo-chooooooo. Poems, Slightly Used, November 26, 2010 . [ 952 ]

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