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my little fish called Bashō

To be a fish !

So utterly without misgiving
To be a fish
In the waters.

Loveless, and so lively!
Born before God was love,
Or life knew loving.
Beautifully beforehand with it all.

And I said to my heart, there are limits
To you, my heart;
And to the one God.
Fish are beyond me.

Fishes,
With their gold, red eyes, and green-pure gleam, and
under-gold.
And their pre-world loneliness,
And more-than-lovelessness.


from: D.H. Lawrence (Fish)

some say that i am unaware
that i possess no more than
the limited attention span
necessary for the restricted
round of my world

i concede this may be true
yet the walls of my domain
are no less transparent than yours
and the confines of mine
are more visible
inhabitants of strictured spheres

but i whose dominion
is a mere fin span -
with each turn of the bowl
katsū!
and there the world renewed


swiss (bashō as a fish)





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if i could give you spring...

the quivering apple, split open by the changing light

pondering these days:

There is no nonsense about a still life, a solitary object. You can keep looking at it.
It gives you a chance to really be there to find out how deep you can go.

William Segal


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... and shatter me with Dawn

At last, to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!

Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star!
Past Sunrise!
Ah, What leagues there were
Between our feet, and Day!

Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—

Not knowing when the Dawn will come,
I open every Door,
Or has it Feathers, like a Bird,
Or Billows, like a Shore—

The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind—

poems by Emily Dickinson



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