His time place purpose model was probably not Napoleon
whose memory he might have scrolled urging his frost
gripped units: trust those bayonets like desire ̶ Engagez,
Engagez! clear the path to Moscow's gate: wait turn back
bend cold fear to foraging ̶ roots grown down fill stomach
hollows ̶ never mind the boots ice crusted left behind ̶ Engage,
Engage!
This stylist for ragged lives needs no saddle and wouldn't gift
a pony to grand kids. One shouldn't be attached to horn
hat rolls and rein hard rules, he would repeat, shifting on
his velvet cushions, easing out an arc of cross-legged
beaten air. He's wired like veins you never see unless
you tap. Rows calm before his tiger tender with sun
glasses. Not much is required of you on his mark; arched,
under the styling cape, head piece ̶ Détends-toi! ̶ receiving.
Close barber for bitch fibres in his days remaining.
Faith leap in stocking
peeler hands, breath all for giving ̶ your spinal pose will stir
the spirit up, uncurl the future's limbs. Not for one pigeon
side glance should you flinch.
– W.W.
THE WAY
1
What is meant by it? What kind?
Where does it lead, Laura Dern?
'I have a specific gift.
Whatever rôles are mine will
come to me.' Non-action: here
is nothing that is not done.
Might births breath, breath midwifes might.
2
Push it ̶ and there is no ahead;
pull it back ̶ there is no behind.
Lift it ̶ and there is no above;
press it down ̶ there is no below.
Face it ̶ you will not see its face;
look at it ̶ and there is no form;
listen to it ̶ there is no sound.
Firmness as stewardship of the soul.
3
Build it up ̶ its glory's no higher.
Detract from it ̶ it keeps its value.
Multiply it ̶ it stays the same x.
Divide it ̶ to no less than itself.
Hack into it ̶ it grows no thinner.
Slaughter it ̶ it does not stop breathing.
Dig into it ̶ it cannot be plumbed.
Fill it in ̶ its depth remains unchanged.
Courtings of formlessness serving form.
4
It threads its course beyond the four vast points,
seeping into the tiniest spaces,
boring into even the slightest crack.
It and its traveller are not alien
but lead to a light every newborn brings
back to our world of the Great Forgetting.
But even when it becomes your neighbour,
you shun it for disrespecting all rules.
Still, attend to it over your mind's fence.
Patience the humane masseur of its knots.
(from "Readiness" by Brian Chan)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 