Paulines and Paulisms

Photograph by Paul Hsu Master Chordata's Speech in Three Parts I Brothers and Sisters of the Orders of Frog and Toad, here lies a fellow amphibian, slain on the battlefield. Let us prepare the body for a proper burial. Lord of the Flies, have mercy on all of our souls. II Sergeant Metadata Anura-Bufo served as a Special Forces training officer in the Marine Army and leaves behind spouse and spawn. This is he, my beloved son, may he rest in peace and make the leap into the great unknown. III Ultimately, we seem to bumble through our froggy and toady lives, fumbling with maladroit words before stumbling upon more felicitous ones to express our grievous losses of loved ones in these interminable tribal wars. With rocks and stones, let us build this memorial. Yes, dear family and friends, today we gather together by the wind-stirred waters of collective memory and bathe-light this solemn occasion in a tongue-tied stillness as raindrops paint the desert and as s...

Photograph by Paul Hsu Great Poem of Green and White Riparian reflection: I am desert wanderer. Clouds drift across mind's sky. Egrets stalk in water. by Paul Hsu 8-20-16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Seahorse Synchronization In the beginning there's the courtship dance. Seahorse synchrony may involve changing colors, swimming side by side while holding tails, and wheeling around in unison. In the middle of the action the eggs are deposited from the mother's ovipositor to the father's brood pouch. They greet each other in the morning. The father carries their young until it's time. With his muscular contractions the fry are born. Of course, then there's nature versus nurture. In the end the dance partners part their ways and start the mysterious process of sea life all over again and again. by Paul Hsu 7-31-16 Revised 8/1-3/16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Collected Stones Bearing an empty bowl, the messenger boy sits down at the fountain and dips his disappearing legs into the solitude of stone. Which is the speech of stone. The voice of mothers and fathers in the desert. Pick up the pebbles. Cast stone after stone upon imaginary waters. Which is the body of the living and the corpus of the dead? Between what bread is shared and what remains unsaid in the stone's silence, a child sifts and selects her own stone to take home. by Paul Hsu 7/15-16/16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Cloudy with a Little Chance of Lightning I Adjudicators clouded judgments come early bird specials of the old pecking order. Where were we be headed? II Brothers of lightning are we all sun-blocked? Sisters of mourning here now listening to cloudbursts with heartbeat and kindred memory by late-night candlelight. III Love language we be a cloud one conversation between members of one body. by Paul Hsu 7-10-16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Clouds of Unknowing Witnesses Who knows the changes which are still coming When the wind has come and gone will be done What becomes lightness but the open hand by Paul Hsu 7-8-16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Reflections from the Riparian Preserve at Water Ranch Oil painting of ducks on sunset water. Poetry without spoken words. Questions of glass and frames and filter. Rippling of perception and reality. Starlight beyond angry and happy birds. Sunlight and shadow before night's turn. Two thought-lives becoming this one little thing. by Paul Hsu 5/23-24/16 Revised 6-7-16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Clouds and Sunset Childhood voices echo locate evening playground turnstile nightlight. by Paul Hsu 4/12-14/16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Reflection Below surface tension clouded shapes shifting whispers on being changelings by Paul Hsu 4/9-11/16

Photographs by Paul Hsu Our Dinosaur Digs into Imagination 1. The Pteranodon In the prehistoric age of the pterosaurs My daughter picks to be a swift pteranodon. She shape-shifts, lifts her wings, takes to breezy air, and soars Above the kingdom of the seas. Where has father time gone? 2. The Journey Midway through our dinosaur expedition We lost time travel's guide and the straight path Caught between strong predators and weak prey. Three wrathful beasts roadblocked the way forward: Beelzebufo, mammoth, and saber-toothed cat. We prayed for mercy. Ice-storm clouds gathered fast. 3. The Song Who sings this sad song of the last pteranodon? Where have your toothless teeth gone? Where have your great wings gone wrong? Who will sing this sad song of the lost pteranodon? What about the mighty mastodon? You too so long gone. by Paul Hsu 4/6-8/16

Photograph by Paul Hsu The Extinction of the Species Something misunderstood, for sure, stuck. What's bad luck sitting ugly on hard rock? Strange alien butterfly sensation. Sinking into proverbial quicksand. Suddenly, it appears to be a mammoth man who gives me a winged but shadowy hand. "Thank you, good and kind Samaritan, for pulling me out of this depression." "No worries, human. We've been tracking all your literary movements since in the beginning. You're, perhaps, the last linking evidence of an Earthling inking out your existence." by Paul Hsu 4-5-16

Photographs by Paul Hsu The Fire Chief Speaks to Her Roadside Dog On Gratitude Thank you for coming so quickly, partner. You are my best friend. On Arts and Crafts We work to put out the fires that rage across the city. On Poetry as Power with Purpose Let us save brothers and sisters shadowed by lighting whole worlds with our brave heart smiles. by Paul Hsu 4-4-16

Photograph by Paul Hsu The Elegiac Evening song adrift on dark green water dream time reflections of clouds at sunset. by Paul Hsu 4/2-3/16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Better Poem I am classless. I have lost the present. One day you may find me laid low in the dust and not immediately recognize me off and on the road to thousands elsewhere. by Paul Hsu 4-1-16

Photograph by Paul Hsu Island How do I say your name without spelling it out? You were there with me and now you have moved on away to a new place just right of over here. Where are we really? What will become of us? For so long have I waited before your voice returns. You have left the island. Come home to the mainland. by Paul Hsu 3-28-16 Revised 3-30-16

Penguin Press Commentary: I composed the following acrostic lost and found poem as my Goodreads.com book review of Mary Oliver's most recent Felicity . To Mary Oliver Follow you down the spring path Early morning light to God's existence Love the world of thousands of voices In the millions of trees and wings Calling me to remember everything In heaven on earth like terrible laughter Transportation is the holy body You are the beloved poem and poet Flowers could be slowly opening Early morning springs as evidence Love the time it can take to kiss If there's not kissing in the kingdom Curtain of thoughtful language you use Into that blue space of prayers Transportation is the beautiful soul You and I are the beloved each other by Paul Hsu 3-6-16

Photographs by Paul Hsu Double Happiness on Independence Day for my wife 1. Through dear love-life's screen-door rises dark-room's sun-lit earth-view of Sedona's red rock as beautiful a backdrop to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary. 2. We renew vows inside-out voices as paired white-golden rings shine through reading and writing a couple of good books on dark days to highlight years all true-blue interdependence. 3. Two-plus-one come to light the Chapel of the Holy Cross. by Paul Hsu 12/13-14/15 Revised 1/10-12/16