Poems

Kevin Langdon

 


Veil

The soft rain came
As I travelled through the green forest.
I never felt the wind above
But in the rippled pool by my path
I did not see my face.


Tao Garden

Published in Noesis #125, November 1996.
Copyright (c) 1996 by Kevin Langdon.
All rights reserved.

The honeysuckle's
Wild blossoms spring
Amid the wide-ribbed
Leaves of meadow grass,
Wind swayed and sighing,
Rising from the
Dark, sweet nitrous loam.

A sparrow's startled flight
Spans earth and sky,
Touching in turn
A honey-rich bright bee
Among the blooms,
Fragrant pine-tops
And snow-brilliant peaks.

The sparrow's silver call
Floats on a high cloud
And abruptly drops
As through a deep pool;
Ripples of silence spread,
Unbroken by the
Sun-fed valley's drone.


To Melora

Meadow children
In moonlit silence,
Darting, silver,
Wind-free and flying
On the lush grass,
We walk tree-shadowed
In the realm of men.

By day, I hunt you
In the stag's swift glory;
Crying out with pity
And a fierce joy,
I loose my arrow's line
Against the curve
Of his courageous flank.

By night, in your arms,
I hear a far-off
Wild lion-cry;
Sleep comes, hushed
As the old men wait
And peer into the night
Around their fire.


Storm

A ripple stirs
The tensed, near-breathless
Surface of the jungle;
Cautious ears listen,
Lifting as a whispered call
Rises above the
Tempo of the death-dance.

Feather-palms sway weakly,
Lifting bird-arms
To an apprehensive sky,
As grey cloud-masses
Wisp apart and form anew,
Yawning in a cool
Quickening gust.

A tiger pads softly,
Brushing wet leaves by his path;
Impatiently,
He shakes his heavy coat
And bends his head to drink
From a clear, fresh pool
Below a giant tree.


How lucky for us
A Zen poem
Needn't be long
Nor make any sense.


I followed the Buddha
Along the road.
The Buddha walked. I walked.
Past farm houses and fields.
Under the sun, the moon, the stars.
Over a river on a curved bridge.
Through woods, across a desert, over mountains
I followed the Buddha.
On and on, the Buddha walked.
I'm getting tired of this shit.


Because of the Ghost
(a "pyramid poem")

I am not just bones;
Bodily, tactile, palpable sensation,
Intuitions, kinesthesia, emotionality,
Visualization, proprioception, rationalization;
Semi-occasionally,
Self-consciousness.


Because Shit Happens
(a "pyramid poem")

A "no big deal" minor matter--
Remarks mistaken--escalates.
Innocently intentioned propositions,
Misformulated, misinterpreted (unintentionally)--
Disharmonization, hyperaggressivity.


 

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