VoicePost 314K 1:53

(no transcription available)

author's note:

As I recall, I wrote the first draft of this poem a few years ago, while reading the excellent anthology The Clouds Should Know Me By Now: Buddhist Poet Monks of China, edited by Red Cloud and Mike O'Connor.


MISSIVE FROM A DISTANT PROVINCE

Despite the fine qualities
of my song and dance
I remain in this
outlying province

waiting, waiting so long
for some word from
that far-off imperial capitol.

I tried to appease my hunger
by enjoying the sun
on the stones in the stream

telling myself how
the open light of my humble home
shines more brightly
than those golden hinges
on the latched imperial gates

but beneath my cool logic
the pain in me screamed

so, whenever I heard
someone else cry out
I heard myself...

thus, my pain
and his pain and her pain
in time, became...our pain.

So I no longer pray for approval
from the palace--
whatever gratuities I'd receive
would not be enough to comfort me--

if I do not reject the crested pillow
that's only because I know
it can not soften what I feel.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry

VoicePost 285K 1:43

(no transcription available)

author's note:

I don't want to tell my story--I want to tell our story.


THE HAPPY MISERY OF MYSTERY

What harbinger, what promise
visited me that night--?--

is that "what" a "who"?

All I know is I awoke
with a vague ache of joy
spreading across my chest--

but now
my reawakened desire
weaves a foggy cell,
heavies my pacing step--

a pernicious hunger for release--
the release I can feel approaching:
I've endured for weeks--
months

but try as I might, I can't sense
how much longer I must wait--

Where--how--what can I do?

Why does the part of me
that has the answer
refuse to speak?

I'm confused to the point of misery

and yet...

so pleased by this deep mystery.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

VoicePost 223K 1:18

(no transcription available)

author's note:

A recent TV commercial ended with a celebrity coach saying, "I'm comfortable in my own skin.

I both pitied and envied the man.


STRETCHING

I think I know why
yoga was invented:

long ago, a master realized
these contortions
are just how our lives are:

we get all twisted up
in order to stretch
then must find a way
to extricate ourselves.

But I've learned to love
such problems--love
the twists of this
convoluted labyrinth--

yes, I now accept
I'll never be comfortable
in this life, in this skin

because once I've adjusted
to one position
I then turn the rack up
another notch...

I must.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
dreaming steps

VoicePost 282K 1:43

(no transcription available)

author's note:

I usually don’t like to be so topical.  On the other hand, fear and pain are a timeless part of the human condition.


THE NEWSHOUNDS OF HELL

I heard their growling
and started to growl--

angry at their angry refusal
to see their own blind fear--

but then later--
  cooled by going into
  my deeper pools--
I felt my sadness--

my disappointment
at how we bow
to their bow wow wow--
at how they get us to bark
as they bark--

at how we scare ourselves
into devouring
our own hearts.

So now I try not to growl
when I hear them
trying to lower us down

instead I strain to listen
above my fear--to understand
our pain...our wound.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
searching for the new mythology

VoicePost 283K 1:42

(no transcription available)

author's note:

"Life is a dance."
                -- Johann Strauss I


WALK TALK DANCE SING

Our therapists have told us
the painful blessed obvious:

it's much easier to sing
than to talk--

easier to dance
than to walk.

But I needed to learn
from my own experience:
the challenge of walking
and talking
can be greatly exhausting

but then to sing
and dance
gives me new breath.

Thus, I know now
it's best to dance
and sing and dance
with every step

and though I often forget
I am reminded

whenever I choke...
whenever I slip.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
dreaming steps