From the Icebox inbox – 23

star window mirror star                                           Dana Garrett

ripple of light –
in the silence I hear the rose
unfold its petals                                                       Janak Sapkota

autumn leaves –
the slow striptease
of the red maple                                                      Michael Henry Lee

In the black cat’s
changing eye
September moon

.. 黒ねこの
.. 変る目の色
.. 9月の月                                                                  lawrence jiko

6 Responses to “From the Icebox inbox – 23”

  1. autumn glow …
    the languorous dance
    of falling leaves

  2. Thanks for the poems Keith and PK. If they are submitted on the Submissions 2 page, they can be considered to be featured on Icebox’s main page. The Submissions 2 page can be found on the top right corner of the blog in the pages column, which is in red print. Ideally, we hope that readers also share their opinions in the comments section.

  3. We are blessed with some great submissions, this time around. A stimulating selection, too. Dana’s piece is very much a concrete poem, but haiku-like in its ability to conjure up a moment. The physics of light is explored and I feel as a reader in the midst of the mystery of time and space. Janak’s haiku has in it a different light and my heart missed a beat at the petal sound. Wondrous! Michael’s choice of ‘striptease’ is arresting, though the body the falling leaves gradually expose is far from beguiling. In a way the word is a mismatch with image? Memorable. I much preferred Jiko’s English (orig.?) to the Japanese (trans.?), as the ‘changing eye’ seems more open-ended than 変わる目の色. Thanks to all who have submitted here in late summer and early autumn.

  4. What? The barren form of the tree not so beguiling? In some instances, perhaps, but in my local Swede Hollow stands a tree so magnificent I’ve attempted to photograph it in all seasons. It appears to me as some ikebana sculpture, so enticing is its form. Of course, the setting plays a role, also: next to a pond made from the waters emanating from beneath the ground, Phalen Creek re-emerges two miles downstream from the chain of lakes before being diverted again to the Mississippi River. The Hollow’s steep inclines are held together precariously by a wild undergrowth and immature trees that remain short-lived due to erosion exacerbated by the shanties and dwellings of waves of indigent immigrants to this city over nearly two centuries. A blink of an eye in time, really. All that remain now are a few outlines of their foundations, and the land waits to be be reclaimed by the life and death cycles of nature’s regrowth. The few giant stalwarts that do remain, though most have begun to die off and decompose, are an anamoly that testify to the unintended brutality of man’s hand.

  5. Gerald,
    It would seem that the black cat’s eye poem might be by Jiko and not Dana!?

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