William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Love’

When Water Falls On a Stone

Yesterday morning I distributed more than six gallons of water using my favorite one-quart child’s watering can, visiting each plant in the garden with a miniature rain shower, sans vocalizations. I might have thundered, but the can does not make that kind of rain. Its gentle blue drops are more like single notes plucked ever so lightly on a banjo — lightly, as in, composed of light as much as […]

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Canvas 686 — A Growing Fool

Canvas 686 — May 5, 2016

  A Growing Fool On the rare occasions it was warranted, I was thrilled to wear a tie my father had long since banished to a far corner of the closet, so much out of style it was that it was a new style all its own, wide and long enough to serve as vest or bib, wild enough to please the choosiest of adolescent clowns. I had big shoes. […]

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Reckoning

If the words I use are a record of my love, they are a record of my blindness and ignorance also. That I might inadvertently cause pain in another, is one more vote for keeping silent; but I know well that my silence can lead to the same result. And so where does my responsibility end, and that of the hurt party begin? That, it seems, is a faulty question, […]

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As Much Love

The rude, crude person who grates on your nerves, and who, perhaps, has even entered your family circle like a bull in a china shop — what are you to make of him? How are you to survive the onslaught of his ignorant, opinionated noise, and the upheaval he brings to your digestion? You cannot avoid him, and you certainly cannot change him, nor would you try. You take a […]

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Wobbles

The crocuses we planted near the sidewalk and which had their first bloom last spring, doubled, tripled, possibly even quadrupled this year. Like love, the bulbs are spreading, and in so doing, they are making their own fertile ground.   Wobbles a squeaky old tricycle and a squeaky old man love is the child who gives him her hand

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First Love

It’s easy to remember a feeling that has never departed — indeed, which seems to have been with one since birth. And it’s natural enough to give it a name, and maybe even think of it as a poem. Living is like that, isn’t it? — a hook with a hat on it, a face in the mirror, a place we call home, where clouds become walls, and a soft light […]

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Tenderness

Fool me. I am more than willing. Think me a fool. I am. Be the smart one, the intelligent one, the one who knows. Hold the clear advantage. Then, with your startling brilliance, use me to advance yourself, and manipulate me to accomplish your lofty aims and goals. When you are done, cast me aside, the dry husk of your ambition. How cold, your gravestone. How bitter and lonely, your […]

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Newborn

Our grandsons were here, together and warm in their grandmother’s chair, talking about football. I went out for a walk after supper. It was cold, but not too: twenty-nine degrees; still, but not blue: the breath of a breeze. The stars were out. The Big Dipper was standing on its end: pirouette. No one was out: no cat, nor dog, no cleared throat. Bare trees: ghosts: roses: smoke: fir is […]

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To French Vanilla and All the Other Flavors

Someday, perhaps, the unhappiest and most destructive of our kind will simply be loved by the rest of us into grace — caressed, as it were, by the whole human race. Now, look at the face. Look, and then ask yourself: Am I willing to love? Or am I above such tragic disgrace? And: If I am above, how came I to be so unlike the truth I proclaim — […]

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Shepherd’s Song

Love, if I must speak, let me be brief, for the birds are singing. And Love said, Each to his joy, his grief, his responsibility — not as tyrant, or teacher, but as melody.   Shepherd’s Song Your hour, my century, said the mountain. Your stone, my grief, said the man. Your words, my longing, said the wind. Poems, Slightly Used, January 16, 2010

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