William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Morning’

You Can See It All From Here

Having been granted this breath, I would be embarrassed to ask for anything more. Without it, there is nothing more. With it, as familiar as it seems, this glorious early morning summer scent is more than I can describe or define. It describes and defines me. It is the cosmic fruit, honey, and grain that sustains. It is the means and the way. Now, if only there is something I […]

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Parade

Two hummingbirds, in and about the maple and juniper: two steps of a hummingbird ladder, climbing into evening. One green apricot, gnawed on while still in its bloom jacket, or soon thereafter, fallen to the ground, possibly nudged by its mates to its doom. Happy for all that. Look at me, Mom, I made it alone. Afternoon, marching backwards. Morning, a bright cheery clown. Dawn, roses in bloom. On the […]

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This Morning the Sky Is My Beloved

Only upon waking does this body form. What need is there otherwise? March 9, 2021 . This Morning the Sky Is My Beloved This morning the sky is my beloved and she beseeches me to take the earth from her hands for just a little while the earth heavy but so small and the rain is how her wept love falls. Recently Banned Literature, March 9, 2017 . [ 1043 […]

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Spirit Ducks

It’s rare anymore that I use the word my — my writing, my poems, my books, my furniture, my house, my friends, my wife, my love, my life, my time. Only when it’s necessary for the sake of clarity and meaning, or to properly assume responsibility, does the word seem justified — as in, This is my perception, or, This is my experience, or, This is my mess. Otherwise, the […]

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Morning Sounds

Ah, sweet pain! To let go of thee, or me? That is the question. . Morning Sounds Creak in the ceiling sound at the door bird on the rooftop crying for more light rain flight pain creak in the ceiling sound at the door man on the rooftop crying for more flight rain light pain Recently Banned Literature, April 10, 2014 . [ 901 ]

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Canvas 419 — I Wonder

Canvas 419 — August 23, 2014

  I Wonder After a long absence, they began to fear for him, and so they sought him in the cave where he sometimes slept. He was not there; but they found a striking image of him which seemed to have etched itself onto one of the walls, where at certain times of the year water would seep through and trickle down. They gazed upon the image for a long […]

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Once In Your Life

After a hot day yesterday, there was a strong breeze most of the evening. This morning I noticed a tiny spider at the center of its web, suspended between two dahlias about eight feet apart. The sunlight had just illuminated the brave explorer, making it glow. I thought about the instant it had let go and allowed itself to be carried by the wind across the wide chasm, and wondered […]

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The News

The news is a mass addiction. Every minute of every day, millions of people return to it, in quiet desperation, in anger, in distraction, for another dose, another fix. It’s a form of collective hysteria, this thirst and hunger for the negative and obvious, this fear of not knowing what is already known, and which represents only a tiny portion of what it means to be alive in this wondrous […]

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Crutches

The coffee helps. The hot water it’s in. The cup that holds them. The hands it warms. The thought that tells them, “That’s hot, put it down.” The mind that conforms to the shape of an old chair. Their squeaks and their groans. The coming of daylight. The dying of old fright. And then you are born. And your crutches are gone. [ 539 ]

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