William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Thinking’

Mossy Skin

Very high humidity, smoke, mold — is it any wonder the sinuses have been aching, and that the body has been laboring, the past few days? One looks at his mossy skin and isn’t surprised to find it seeping and dripping like the canyon walls. Gutter Journal, Numb. 2. October 22, 2023. Cleaned back gutters and downspouts. I didn’t read today. But I thought about it. October 22, 2023. . […]

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Spirit at the Switch

Stars and low-racing clouds. A spirit at the switch, grinning fall. My eldest brother is alive again. He’s forgotten to bring his driver’s license. Standing beside our mother’s old car, I tell him I’d better drive, though we have no particular destination in mind. With the arrival of rain and cooler temperatures, I’m reminded that the easiest way to adjust to seasonal weather changes is to spend as much time […]

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What Made Me Think

If happiness and joy could be summoned with effort, just think how happy and joyful we would be; still we try, and are undone by trying; what made me think of this? a cloudy, misty dawn; my heart beating; the universe rolling on . . [ 1758 ]

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An Attentive Child

The less I think, the better I feel — physically, mentally, every which way. Once I recognized the connection between what goes on in my head and my general well being, the thinking process grew quiet, and the intervals between thoughts became greater. Sometimes, I hardly think at all, and wouldn’t notice it, except that when I finally do think, it’s like waking from a vivid dream. I don’t mean […]

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Your Answer

What do they mean? Do you ever ask the words themselves? Or do you expect them to do as you tell them? If they were your children, would you demand their rigid compliance, or would you give them the freedom and space they need to blossom? Your answer reveals the kind if writer, speaker, thinker, dreamer you are. If you’re sure the words you use are at your command, then […]

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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 […]

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