Birth drops us at a train station
near the lip of chaos.
We step off the Evolution Express
carrying a valise of neurons.
We are headed nowhere
and already there.
We live between our bones,
napping in hammocks of selfhood.
hans ostrom 1999/2020
Monday, November 23, 2020
Of Being
"Metallic Traces"
Metallic traces, yesterday's
steel blues. Metallic traces,
how her mouth tasted--well, it
tasted real. Traces of mercury
in rivers, iron from sloughing
ships at sea's bottom. Everything
that made sense doesn't make
sense anymore. What was all
that foundry forging for?
Metallic traces, old radio
antennas still seizing sounds
from air and passing them
along though no one's hearing
because no one's listening.
hans ostrom 2020
Sunday, November 22, 2020
Bravissima
Her frown made me sad--
kind of like tired, pliable carrots
do. Whereas her perfume
delighted like a flower concert
played by multicolored clouds.
When she talked, I heard
her words as vocal chords
thrummed into the present
moment. And when she
smiled at me--at me!--
well, I wanted to applaud
in a way that voiced
desire for an encore,
for me an encore.
hans ostrom 2020
Saturday, November 21, 2020
"The Waning Moon," by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Reading/video of a short poem by the famous British Romantic poet, Shelley, 1792-1822. Husband of Mary Shelley.
Wednesday, November 18, 2020
Monday, November 16, 2020
Friday, November 13, 2020
"Optimistic Man," by Nazim Hikmet
Reading/video of a short poem by the highly regarded Turkish poet Hikmet:
Wednesday, November 11, 2020
Tuesday, November 10, 2020
"Words," by Shinkichi Takahashi
Reading/video of a short poem by the prolific Japanese poet:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yj80kqz4gr4
Saturday, November 7, 2020
Meet the Snake
The temperature
of wherever I
am becomes my
mood. My gold
eyes come from
Earth's first fires.
I taste air with
my tongue,
unhinge my jaws,
and swallow
something to
kill hunger.
Something live.
It dies inside
me squirming.
I coil in cold,
lengthen in
heat, walk
with my belly,
always watching
for hawks. I'm
nothing like you
think I am. I'm
not your Garden
Tempter: that's
your dream. I
keep a pale blue
gem in the middle
of my mind.
hans ostrom 2020
Moon Street
The Swedes call it mångata:
Moon Street. It's the reflection
of a low hanging moon
on lake or sea, crafting illusion
of avenue narrowing to a point
out there, with dark water
as unlit pavement on both
sides. Mind may take you
on a stroll down Moon Street--
you'll be the only traffic.
Yes, you're walking slow
down the avenue on solid
light, going to talk to a cool
sphere, with its round, humorous
face and droll attitude.
Moon Street is a good location.
hans ostrom 2020
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