Paulines and Paulisms

Photograph by Paul Hsu The Preacher's Kid Flaming, the double-edged sword of the once-upon-a-time cherubic choir boy descends like a homing turtledove to cleave church apologetics, two-dimensional ways, means, ends. Baptized by consuming fire, angelic tongues, living water, wild wind, the true blue guitar of the seraphic youth group leader convulses and pulses with his utmost, high on energy, the making of a pop rock star. His heart throbs for holy damsels of devotion, holy emotion. Sundays are sermonized at law school. The shadows of empiricists lengthen, strengthen its stormtroopers, shrink atmospheres of linking thinking. By opening the closed system, the preacher's kid falls off center stage, well-aware of self-righteousness, and disappears into the desert. Like the days of old, the hermit spends his days in a cold cell-like cage. One day, the prodigal son returns to society fully bearded and penniless...

Photograph by Paul Hsu C-3PO Speaks as a Translator for R2-D2 (Ode to Interpreters and Servants) Enemies take little notice of me since I am small and seem insignificant in the big scheme of the most wanted things. Friends find me frustrating and irritating because my revolving chrome dome protects key modifications in my circuitry contributing to my obstinacy and steely resolve to shock and problem-solve. I am well-equipped to open and close doors-- a useful skill for getting out of tight spots. Master trusts me to deliver the message-- I play the part of surprise and pull the stunt to stunning imperfection. Satisfaction-- or your bleeping bounty back--guaranteed? You, C-3PO, and me--the odd couple team. by Paul Hsu 4/25-26/15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Blessed Are Blessed are the adjuncts and the migrants; their charity comes from contingency, and their labor is the currency of love, not the love of money. Blessed are the artists; their artistry embodies and incarnates ideas in colors, images, music, things, and words. What is the heart and soul of art but the spirit residing in flesh and blood? Blessed are the builders; their constructions will be demolished. Will not all tall towers fall flat to fault lines, rest in ruins? Blessed are the children; their first childhood is passing away, but their second childhood awaits better is one day. Blessed are the comedians; their craft is the stuff of laughter and tears, in turn, helping the audience get over and under anxiety and fears. Blessed are the makers of heaven and earth; their reward is their work, and their work is restoration and rebirth. Blessed are the poets and the prophets; their office is one and the same, numbered a...

Photograph by Paul Hsu "I believe in intuitions and inspirations. I sometimes feel that I am right. I do not know that I am... I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world." ~ Albert Einstein

Photograph by Paul Hsu Directive: Calling All Earthlings Eat as earthworms convert dead to soil. Aerate as farms and hanging gardens. Renew sea-starfish-shaped stewardships. Taste and see Mother Nature's beauty. Help us, Rebels, save our planet Earth. by Paul Hsu 4-22-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Spring Poems of Ascents in the Air With wings of desire, like a pair of bells in a church bell choir about to be rung, we wait, longing in line, until kingdom come time. Fire, ignite our rise and fall with rapture. On life's ladder of ups and downs, from darkness to light, night and day, breath, love, peace, show the way. by Paul Hsu 4-21-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Poem of the Helicopter Pilot the wind come and go eye you do not know eye am captain courageous well-weathered in choppiness eye fly fast and slow high and low in unfriendly skies of blasts and blows in perilous search and rescue how can beauty save eye and you? by Paul Hsu 4-20-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Questions at Tree's Beard Why do some leaves yellow so suddenly? An abandoned nest? Or an assassin? Start up the conversation once again? How to generate greens to make ends meet? by Paul Hsu 4-18-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Phoenician Sunset Between two perfect palms the explosion of darkness. Energy drinks and drains the cup. Passion. Pour through me. by Paul Hsu 4-16-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Song of Sticks speak to me in my dreams day and night walk your talk fish kites fly from my hands laugh and cry we become brooms of dance in blue sky by Paul Hsu 4/12-13/15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Turtle Time Slow pilgrims spend sabbaticals in riparian reflection. by Paul Hsu 4-12-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu The Phantom Voice of Space Opera Yes, young toddler Skywalker, I am your menacing father. Hey, stop kicking and screaming and let me change your diaper! You heard me, boy, loud and clear, the Dark Side has all the power, stronger than your mother's love. No reaching for your lightsaber! Okay, that's it! Poops! Time to Force- choke, Force-drain you to near-death. Do you not fear Lord Vader's wrath? by Paul Hsu 4-11-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Rising Reeds They say, as rising reeds, we stand side by side, greater and greener together than just by our lonesome dove selves. Even so, there are always lone reeds bent in the wind. by Paul Hsu 4-11-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Reed I am a bent reed among rising reeds in running creek water. by Paul Hsu 4-11-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Turtle Time Sunbathers line up for work on a log that rocks. On a roll off and around the clock the submersibles are working. by Paul Hsu 4-10-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu The Force Awakens Precocious Jedi-in-training. Padawan's first-time pod-racing. by Paul Hsu 4-9-15

New Directions Books Living The fire in leaf and grass so green it seems each summer that last summer. The wind blowing, the leaves shivering in the sun, each day the last day. A red salamander so cold and so easy to catch, dreamily moves his delicate feet and long tail. I hold my hand open for him to go. Each minute the last minute. Levertov, Denise. Selected Poems . New Directions Books. New York, 2002. Post-it footnote: You can taste and see how my impoverished imitation pales in comparison to the light of the original. Well, at best, my "flip-side of the same coin" poem "Dying: After Denise Levertov's 'Living'" is trying to have a good-natured, hopefully, prayerful conversation with this particular source of inspiration and consternation. But I do ask myself this question once again: Have I left the green grounding too early? Stretched my wings and taken flight prematurely?

Photograph by Paul Hsu Dying: After Denise Levertov's "Living" The wind in the tree so close to death it comes and goes each hour the final hour. A hummingbird's  heartbeat races at breakneck speed ten times the rate of human lives, taking dives at sixty miles an hour, visiting a thousand flowers a day. I walk on each second the final second. by Paul Hsu 4-6-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Three Chive Boxes Pan-fried to perfection, they suddenly disappeared into the night. by Paul Hsu 4-5-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Three Chive Boxes Once upon the brief lives of three chive boxes, before they were pan-fried, they were pillowy clouds in the blue sky. by Paul Hsu 4-5-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu At the Children's Museum As my daughter butterflies by I realize that photography like poetry cannot capture the present that is always changing itself into the past and transforming with the future. So I pray for wings like my child. by Paul Hsu 4-4-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Check out (do or do not bother to try) Li-Young Lee's challenging, yes, indeed, difficult "eating meat" (who is reading whose work? Whitman?) poem deliciously titled " The Cleaving ." (Compare and contrast with George Herbert's classic poem " Love (III) .") Consider its changes, its charging contradiction or opposition of meaning: divide and sever (meat cleaver!) versus hold fast and be faithful or loyal to ("Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...") thanks to metaphysical and theological super glue (paradox!). Definitely, brothers and sisters, do not take my word for it. Instead, we might "become becoming," and being more "fully human," become more whole by working toward brimming wellness in body and soul, in breath, spirit, word, and deed, write? on! One of Lee's longer poems to devour, digest, read and relish for missed understanding. Perfect (perhaps, not!) in its imperfec...

Photograph by Paul Hsu Sentinel (The Heron)  Call me great. Call me blue. Got my eye Fixed on you. by Paul Hsu 4-3-15

Photograph by Paul Hsu Night Vision Goggles Rise up from underground. Strange green beams of liquid light. Surrounded by sounds of splashing. What is this alien among us? by Paul Hsu 4-2-15