THROUGH LOST SILENCES
Poems
David Jaffin
THROUGH LOST SILENCES
Poems
David Jaffin
First published in Great Britain in 2003 by Shearsman Books,
58 Velwell Road, Exeter EX4 4LD and in Germany by
St.-Johannis-Druckerei, Lahr/Schwarzwald
www.shearsman.com
shearsman@macunlimited.net
Distributed for Shearsman Books in the U.S.A. by Small Press Distribution, 1341 Seventh Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94710 Email: orders@spdbooks.org Website: http://www.spdbooks.org
ISBN 0-907562-38-8 (Shearsman Books, UK)
ISBN 3-501-01466-X (St.-Johannis-Druckerei, Germany)
Copyright © David Jaffin, 2003.
The right of David Jaffin to be identified as the author of his work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved.
Gesamtherstellung: St.-Johannis-Druckerei, Lahr/Schwarzwald Printed in Germany 34458/2003
Contents
Outjumped	9	Thinking out	27
Even if	9	The Red One	27
Age	11	A Depth in Silence	27
In Refrain	12	Tropical Saturday	
Time-sharing	12	Evening’s	28
Refuged	13	A Shadow in Mind	28
A Stranger around		Church Capitalism USA	29
the corner	13	Question Marks	30
Adolescence	14	Hearsay	30
Talking it out	15	For Feet	31
For an Ease	15	Brooding moments	31
Matthew 6,24	16	Moving out	32
Carissimi’s Jephta	16	That hope-felt Smile	32
Gaiety	17	Really known	33
Their birth for wind	17	Rosh Haschana and the	
City seen	18	days of repentance	34
Cooled	18	Non spokenness	35
But lightly surfaced blue	19	Too much color	35
Seeing’s believing	19	Poemed	36
6 Masterpieces in the		Streetlights	36
Frankfurt Art Museum		Schrubs	37
a) van Eyck:		Reeds	37
Lucca Madonna	20	Edge of cold	37
b) Rembrandt: Hendricje		Find	38
Stoffels “attributed to his		If things go too well	38
workshop”	20	Unquieted	39
c) Altdorfer: The 3 Kings 21		A passage way	39
d) Bellini: Sacred		Still lifes	40
Conversation	22	Balanced out	40
e) Rubens: King David		Questioning Nathaniel	
playing his harp	23	Pink	41
f) Vermeer: The		Absent minded	42
Geographer	24	Logic beyond logic	43
Defense Mechanisms	24	Artificial flowers	43
Melville at Sea	25	3 Still Lifes	
Hardy’s heath	26	a) Chairs	44
Would be?	26	b) Closing drawers	44
c) Looking at pictures 45 Hammering	45
Illuminating light	45
Nonsense	46
To see again	46
Of Outlook	47
Known better	48
Winter’s will	48
Soft touch	49
December moon	50
Different	50
An Intimacy	51
Teacher’s complaint	52
Flying kites	52
Escaped	52
Railings	53
To finding dream	53
Empathy?	53
Waiting	54
Intentions	55
Even before	56
In proclaiming	56
What does it mean	57
Defining an object	57
His way of seeing	58
A softness of feeling	58
Too much Goodness 59 Wind-stilled	60
If this church	61
Leibl	61
Thereness of	62
Naked branched	62
Receiving death	62
This new day	63
Happy ends	63
Renewing	64
Criss-crossing	64
Smoothed-out	65
Taste of	65
Talk shows	65
Instinct to	66
So!	66
Virtuoso	67
Church image	67
At Funerals	68
Escapes us	69
Train-told	69
Slight hopes	70
Portrait	70
Silver-Scaled	70
Mangrove Trees	71
Tasted salt	71
Over-extended	62
All’s away
Nothing’s here	72
Room above the kindergarten	73
Sky-viewed window	73
Trying to be involved 74 For S. L.	75
Witnessed	76
For Rosemarie	76
Lost to Sleep	77
Simple Truths	77
Waking from Sound	77
Asked/answered	78
Tropical Hospital	78
For good Prices	79
But still	80
Nathaniel Pink’s indecisions	81
“A Final word, please” 82 A finalized Sense ofbeauty	83
Israel’s suffering	83
Hide and Seek	84
Out-centered	84
Felt hurt	85
Bird’s - inview	85
God-seeker	86
Smaller shadows	87
Togethered	87
Cousin-in-law	88
Wall	88
Virgin land	89
If there’s no
inward world	89
Double vision after the eye operation	90
Glamour	91
Chosen	91
For being more	92
Of knowing where	93
At sunset	93
Folksy words	94
"In God we trust”	94
Disappointed	95
Wearing out	95
Uptold	95
Southern pine's	96
Dead speaking	96
Existential Fear	97
Crossing a river	97
A final place	98
Unseen	98
Buds-for-Leafs	99
Grey	99
Unsaid words	99
Slowed down	100
Aged	100
Re-timed	100
Seldom Smile	101
Despited	101
Waiting for Love	102
Peopled with Children 102 Belle of the Party7	103
Prime Choice	104
So Explicit	104
Herrcnberg	105
Striped to Birth	105
Abstracting language 106 That quiet Pelican	106
Last Meaning?	107
Sadness in Schubert’s	107
On Critics	108
Singing stones	108
Snow’s sensibilities	109
Abandoned	109
Identities	109
Twain: the last years	110
seeming	111
Thank you Notes	111
Pains	112
Over bearing	112
Of Waiting	112
Blowing up	113
Homnrage a Ibsen	113
Beach Mannequin	114
Imitations?	114
Zelenka	115
Berwald	115
Self Portrait	116
With Little Things	116
Cranach’s “Fall ofMan” 117 Caring for silence	117
Joost van Cleve’s “Magdalene’s mourning the dead Christ”	118
Melting	118
Siena + 1348/49	119
Witnessing	119
Impersoned	119
Where Cold’s	120
Speechless Deep	120
Learning to learn	121
One-parent Families	121
Sunday	122
Two-sided	122
Decides	123
A Blessing	123
Still Asleep	123
The Need for More	124
In MemoriamJ. G.	125
These niceties of age	125
That shifting sense	126	Jesus/Buddha	146
For being more	127	Some Kinds	
Puppet play Puppets	128	of Diagnosing	147
May have been	129	Didn’t know	148
Outpoemed	129	Outlasting	148
Slow Steps/		Fading out	148
slow thoughts	130	Paced	149
Opened windows	130	Nostalgic	149
Like any other day	131	Cyclops?	149
Mary, the Mother	131	Castle at Sirmione	150
Enveloping	132	Bells	150
Trilogy of		Finer Sense	151
a) Return to Israel		Righting one self	151
1945/48	132	Down to size	151
b) Jesus in Auschwitz	133	Out finding	152
c) To Kingdom		Captiva Bay	152
ofPeace	134	The Dream	153
Room without		Endangered species	154
windows	134	For its own Sake	155
Room without		Deep down	155
windows 11	135	Routine	155
Carpet’s red	135	Psychoage	156
Preacher’s Room	136	Systems	156
In Fineness	136	Progress	156
Releasing	137	Freedom	157
Advertising Model	137	Giving in	157
Cross-felt	138	Ambiguity	158
Weekend Father’s	138	Kassandra	158
As if	139	Of haunted dreams	159
Rain buds	139	Cut Grass	159
Lutheran pre-Situation	139	Wind-fright	160
Empiricism?	140	On the Suffering	
Statistics	141	of a retarded child	160
Prophetic sense	142	What comes next	161
The dilemma	143	“Prussian blue,	
Without God	143	it ’ll fade”	162
To begin	144	For the Freudians	162
Towards tonality	145	Tamed	163
Interaction	145	Hellenic	164
Passed	145	Overstepping	164
Lessened	146	22 Oak Lane	165
King David	166
Looking back	167
That rhythmic urge	167
Enlarged	168
A Color ofits own	168
All used up	169
Out-lined	169
Guest room leaving	170
Finding in	170
Deciding	171
Little girl lost	171
A sense of moon	172
Cemetary	172
Name dropping	173
Getting ahead	173
The Making of	174
Jonathan	174
Coming straight to the point	175
David/Absalom	176
Underlying Meanings	177
Dualities	177
Rembrandt’s Saskia	178
Anatolian Restaurant	178
Outlearned	179
Tropical fish	180
Puzzled in	180
Spaced out	181
Christ presented to the Jews	181
If there is peace	182
Through the realms of Christinas Eve	183
Outjumped
She
was spon tancous
ly more than
She could keep her
self from getting
back to As that out
jumping of a kan
garoo’s
mothered
look Pou ched in her
child’s re sembling
eyes.
Even if
he could fathom the
depths of where these
seas have relinguish
ed their hold on light
into that all perinea
ting silence If he could
meet him self on his
own terms Standing for
where stan ding has come
to mean Still, even
in that be ing of be
ing the wherefore
and why of would be as
elusive as the in
tangi
bilities
through
shadow.
Age
creeps up on us un
seen at first But extcn
ding its grip into the muscles and fibres of
our being It taps a
way at our inner strength
until we feel the sprea
ding out of its cause
into those veins of
self-assur ance that
once held us so steadfast in our purposing
a life that we felt was
ours alone
to tell.
In Refrain
The
calm of when these
waves express them selves
at the quiet of sunset’
s final voice A stillness
in refrain.
Timesharing
These
buildings worn with the
thoughts of people who’
ve stayed there Parch
ed through the Floridian
sun they’ re peeling now
deep down in visibly
coming off.
Refuged
Retired
from thought Seeking re
fuge in the quietness
of inexpli citly seen
But the i mage of what
he wasn’t couldn't be
completely denied even
in dream.
A Stranger around the corner
Death
keeps its distance
Not being asked to come
in A stranger around the
corner in those darken
ing moments that conceal
them
selves from view.
Adolescence
It’s
that space between where
I was by be ing what
my parents saw me as
And the fru ition of what
love takes for her own
But those spaces were
like emptied streets side-
winded from fear leaving
deepen ing sha
dows
behind.
Talking it out (forM. c.) if
you talk it out It
doesn’t think in Man's
more than the telling it
and woman’s even more
than that!
For an Ease
When words stop taking
me to place And there’s
that almost sleep ot lis
tening in to my pillow’
s cool ness.
Matthew 6,24
If you
work with figures all the
time You may not be able
to figure your self out And
that finger’ s touch dull
ed into dol lars and
cents.
Carissimi’s Jephta
The tears
of his daughter may be fee
ling into the needs for his
own Melting that music in
to what he never had been
or would be
again.
Gaiety
A gaiety
of heart that outran it self to colored song ed-in-dance
Wild winds flourishing as flame.
Their birth for wind
Can
flowers bloom in the
darkness of this unseen
silence
With the moon
closing in as if from
words waken ing their birth
for wind.
City seen
if
windows are like eyes
can be a ware of
their cold stance from
seeing
through.
Cooled
If
this shade can cool
my thought s to their
timely reach of being
rooted in the depths of
silence.
But lightly surfaced blue
This
sky’s but lightly sur
faced blue as a smile
extending to the width
of where your lips
could have answered but
almost at tentively a
loud.
Seeing’s believing?
if
seeing’s
believing
then I’ve seen too much
to believe in any
thing other than that
invisibly
true.
6 Masterpieces in the Frankfurt Art Museum
a)	Van Eyck: Lucca Madonna They
were jewelled into pre
sence so fine ly kept with
those details in light
that one
wonders If there
wasn’t more of that heaven
ly throne here than to the
right of The Father’s
majesty.
b)	Rembrandt: Hendricje Stoffels “attributed to his workshop”
Of course
you left the depth of
your mind’s eye for your
wife’s encir cled glowing
self reflec tion to your
bandied work shop to complete
those shimmering touches
that only Your brush-sense
could have So refined!
c)	Altdorfer: The 3 Kings That crumbling Roman temple or
was it your relinguish
edjewish heri tage - no
place for ani nials here
the poverty that became
His home
All ages, races attributed
for Messianic gifts to
their High Priest with
only a star to tell for
heaven’s designed King
And you, the artist near
ing in to that sanctuary
of earthly
hopes.
d)	Bellini: Sacred Conver sation
That blue
was more of heaven for
you than all the gold
could tell of those 3
touched -through from
His distant blessing
But you yourself so
near on the wood that
would be pierced
through your untimely
sins.
e)	Rubens: King David playing his harp
Not of
the youth the fields of
his child-felt devotion
but aged with sin and
the weariness of his king
ly needs He fingered
his hopes be yond all that
jewelled-in presence
into the dark of where
only light could take on
for its inward
glance.
f)	Vermeer: The Geographer Were
you mapped in to your
touched-for-place Room
ed for a dis tant world
you could only imagine
Windowed out for that
necessary
light.
Defense Mechanisms
Who’s de
fending what theory that
strengthens your own de-
fensed- in fallibility
We all need walls to sur
round us from too much selfshadowing and that quickening light of artifi
dally im plied answer
s.
Melville at Sea (for Manfred Siebald)
It wasn’t
that white of never-for
sense But those waves
that uneased Where you
couldn’t be becoming
in the help
less ness
of spaced ...
Hardy’s heath
entangled-tense growth
ofbreeding
wormed
dead-shine
desires.
Would be?
Was Eve inquisitive Or
was it that snake’s way of
telling her to be so
Or if there’ d been a
nother fruit different
ly timed in place Would she
have taken that to(o)?
Thinking out
Thinking out
is like a ship beyond
where it’s seeing now
That I can’t.
The Red One
Children
may be coloring in
their own thoughts
But that Lion the red one
woke me a ware to my
unsettling
fears.
A Depth in Silence
if
he heard deep enough
The sounds of the sea
listen
ing in what he’d heard.
Tropical Saturday Evening’s
a beauti Tied being
dressed in that occasionally
Taking its mea sure in her
own appear ance The town
moon-lit from distant shades.
A Shadow in Mind
All
that dark seems as only
an appear anceA sha
dow in mind as this lin
gering weight less moon.
Church Capitalism USA
Preaching
a sort of church Capi
talistn “There’ s more about
money in the bible than a
bout faith and prayer”. This
church will take it all fondly
in — Thank God the collection
preceded pro cessionally
all this rhe toric And Christ’s
grace was left penniless beg
ging for alms at the door.
Question Marks
if
the question mark marked
a question I’d rather let
it speak it self out as
a pier seeking for sea and
the wherea bouts of e
longated
searchings.
Hearsay
I’ve
heard so many things
said that weren’t That
I’ve come to take si
lence as more of a
matter of fact.
For Feet
A little dog not
knowing where but
never the less going
that way in a
timed-rhythm for feet.
Brooding moments
A bird
clawed for branch
Sits and waits its broo
ding moment s.
Moving out
through
rooms until doors be
came a house of emptied
spaces’.
That hope-felt Smile
it
was that hope-felt
smile that even took its
length through the flower
ed design s of your sig
nifying dress ed apprecia
tion of why Love isn’t
what one ex pects its
where about s to be.
Really known
Words
may not mean the same
if used less often
Seeing too much may
cause that image to
lose its hold in reflecting sound What I know
is only really known once
there’s a dis tance to be
ing found again.
Rosh Haschana and the days of repentance
Why
is Judgment now at the
end of sum mer’s linger
ing fullness (not in the
dead light of winter’
s stone-kept glance)
But where the height of
season’s time less turning
s has left us ready to
be bared from our
leafless
desires.
Non spoken
ness
In the non
spoken ness of
sense That touch from
what word s might
come
to mean.
Too much color
Flower
s droop mg from
the weight of too
much
color.
Poemed
Don’t
look for a poem
unless it’ s look
ing right
in you.
Streetlights
In
that glass ed-in
viewed-re flection
of what Stars might
be telling
us now.
Schrubs
may settle for their down-
felt in-growth Sanctity of
coherent
semblance.
Reeds
To be
freed as these slender
reeds ta king for wind
in trans
parent self.
Edge of cold
That
edge of cold
touched in frost-
find clears.
Find
Birds
hurried to per
ceive in sha dow
s find.
If things go too well
like words running into
their prede termined
rhythms That you wonder
how they got that way
There’s that uneasy fee
ling of the ways they did
n’t go Coming back at you
As if time could reverse
itseifbecause Fear speaks a
language of its own
understand
ing.
Unquieted
These
winds unquieted through
the stirrings of my
blood’s quickening sense.
A passage way
’s only e-choing-in-
sense The dark more fee
ling than that way would
tell us a head/touch
ed silence of our fee
ling in for.
Still lifes
imply that there’s a
special kind of life in
that
stillness
of seeing to where It be
gins to grow out a
perspective of there -
it-is for being
more.
Balanced out
Can
the world balance it
self back to being Storms
leave a quiet after And in
that approach ing still
ness There’ s a tension
of coming more Where’
s the center then Like til
ting one’s glance the feel
for seeing
straight.
Questioning Nathaniel Pink
if
it’s those little out-
of-place things that
habitually unnerve that
fineness to your sensi
bilities Why is your
big view al ways center
cd down the middle Like a
racing track’ s winner
closing in for nearing
there.
Absent minded
then Where it’s perhap
s minding some thing else
Like floating balloons to
see it they’ re changing-
in-colors have left the
sky behind Where your
mind should have re
mained
earth-bound.
Logic beyond logic
if
there’s a logic beyond
logic It’s because Thing
s don’t match the way
they’re suppos ed to be.
Artificial flowers
Where’
s that soft ness mel
ting through touch The dee
pening scent in strangely brightened thought
s A real flo
wer’s see
ing finer-through the
finger’s crea-sing-in
sounds.
3 Still Lijes
a) Chairs may
im-i-tatc persons Or they
might present a lasting
sense of having been sat on
But these Chairs back-
ribbed as they are The bare-
bones of what We wouldn’t
want to be.
h) Closing drawers
is fee ling your
fingers in to thoughts
that might be concealed
there.
c) Looking at pictures
to see ifThey
might be loo king back.
Hammering
the sounds of pulsed-
sensed steel sparked
your eyes.
Illuminating light
Gulls
illumina ting light
as far as the sun could
be heard.
Nonsense (for the poet’s sort, Raphael)
He may
not have had the mind of
others But he minded
his nonsense with a meticulous care A symbolism
of words and effects Just
for him Told to make fun
of other’s not knowing why
even ifhe didn’t know him
self It certain ly did!
To see again
if
we could only learn
to see a gain Beyond
where eyes have prac-
tised their touched-in
precision of choice.
Of Outlook
You might
change the color of your
hair Or even that glance-
ed- in appeal ing for look
But what you can’t change
could change you Unccr
tained from an undeci
ding change of outlook.
Known better
Why
they came They must have
known better to that land
ofjewish extinction
Coming back as if It
was safe for them now Or
as a final answer to the
“final solu tion” -
Theirs.
Winter’s will
If winter
has teeth It bites
hard Clenching its
stone-tensed will
Sharpening the sic-
kled blades of its wind’
s intent Baring this
frightened land down
to its finali zed breath.
Soft touch
The
soft touch of your
welcomed words has
warmed me through the
cold realms of winter’
s deciding glance
veined-in now from
fear.
December moon
The moon’
s hardened its held-
in light Distan
cing from touch Trem
bling through these cold-
lighted winds of vacant
thoughts.
Different
Finding
different words to the
same things Makes those
same things
different.
An Intimacy
The cold
ness of these times
draws us nearer in an
inner sense for warmth
There’s an intimacy
of that fee ling out to
the meaning for words
Not just what’s said
But in the saying it
as well We become more
aware of their colors in
sound And in the dress of
being their closer-in
together.
Teacher’s complaint
Penelope
undid
what she was
taught to learn My tea
chers might complain of
this needle-worked un
doing from.
Flying kites
for a wind
less sky He felt the touch
ofknowing less
than this.
Escaped
Where do
fish escape to color the
dark of this deepness be
yond in
meaning.
Railings
to that steel-
shine of les sening no more
than this Saying’s
touch.
To finding dream
Cus
hioned in silence
Where the cool to
finding dreams re
members.
Empathy?
Could I
have lived her life
better than she
Be
cause she
got into those kinds
of trouble si
couldn’t be her be
ing confused.
Waiting
for what we know will
happen But not knowing
what that happening
may mean As a tension that stirs the
blood to a height of expectation’s waves claiming
in that breakage for time
(but yet) evening out
their repeat ed phrase
as the smooth-told song at
even tide.
Intentions
It’s not
what’s said but the way
of saying That’s said —
Houses look white because
the whiteness of that word
conveys the sense. A
house then is the meaning
of itself Coloring
through the words of
looking
on.
Even before
if
I promised you a rose
That thought of the i
mage of its form The fine
ness of its inner fold
s That implicit scent
Would be a taking of
it, even be fore It’s
been given.
In proclaiming
The
snow was setting a deep
ness of thought Farther down
than even Those settling
winds could Find And a moon
risen in the triumph
of its white ness in Pro
claiming!
What does it mean
you might ask As if mea
ning means any thing other
than the where and what
of it’s impli citly
there.
Defining an object
is where your finger
s can turn its meaning
s in.
His way of seeing
11 was
(perhaps) His
way of see ing those selfsame waves searching out
but neverthe less coming
in across those flat line
s of spoken sand As if All
that was in a returning
to be found Listening
for this heart-beat’
s receiving
time.
A softness offeeling
And
there’s a softness
of feeling to(o) When
the moon encircles
the height of its own
intent and Flesh that fold
s into the needs of our
wanting hand s Or when
the waves have settled
down to a sameness
of finding
for.
Too much Goodness
Her good
ness gave us bad feelings
Always for the others but
seldom for her self Even
Christ thought of the Father’
s will - to(o) in that self-
denial Wasn’t she a
ware to that Doing us
wrong.
Wind-stilled
No
thing move s this prewintered closeness
Wind-still ed the same
ness of field s levelled -
out their length for be
ing known.
If this church
could be as sure as
its stone-held permanence Ascri bing another
world to its worldly -
felt aims Then I’d let
its enclos-sures finalize my sense of being so/
purposed.
Leihl
told the strength of
their facially-cut
featured
rugged
Landscap ed perspec
tived in
personed
place.
Thereness of
That
little
bird’s after-
found wings Colored the
thereness in its be
ing
for mine.
Naked branched
skeletal urge d danced in
death.
Receiving death
as an
old friend
in the quie tude of a
last-timed
leisure
Those cer-tained pain
s but that assurance
in the same of some
thing more than It could
take away.
This new day
writes it self into me
with indelible ink
Not even these soft
rains can wash its sound
less image away.
Happy ends
don’t come because they
start that way They must
be loved back into
view.
Renewing
If you’ve
seen all there is to see
You could start again
by seeing a gain/seen.
Criss-crossing
of waves but to tell
the same shore back-
reached
in tide.
Smoothed-out
Night
smoothed-out
softened
by sleep The stars gui
ding its slow-felt
sense ol be ing watch
ed over.
Taste of
The taste
of quickened to sense
split-down
glow/je-
welled.
Talk shows
Talking
the thing out until the
thing’s out talked of Like
hanging cloth es on the
line of drying their
colors out.
Instinct to
1 know
their colors Only after
the shadow s passed
an instinct
to light.
So!
He stood
his place of what he’d
been double-footed Hands
told in pockets So!
Virtuoso
It wasn’
t the music that spoke
ranging it self to the
inner meanings of sound
But more like a dis
play of clothes And
that flashing smile’
s instru ment of self
appealing
appearance.
Church image
Winds
keep shif ting their
meanings by A ship in
a vacant storm held
to the bottom less ness
of its sin king hopes.
At Funerals
He
was so con cerncd about
saying the right thing
s Pleasing, accentua
ting the com mon notions
That more of silence would
have better ac companied
that flower
mg casket.
Escapes us
if
the theme es capes us
leaves us
looking for
where it wasn’t
like a Spitz wegean butter
fly neither caught in
the hopes of
his pleading myopic net.
Train-told Dividing the wood
s in sound s of see
ing past exten
sions for
thought.
Slight hopes
a bird hoi
ding tight to twig.
Portrait
Ernest
look Heavy chinned
concerns Dulled glass
es having been seen
too much.
Silver-Scaled
To
think of that silver-
scaled tarpon creasing
the waters to its sound
less edge.
Mangrove Trees
from coral-
lcd rock Rooted to the
dead life of primieval
tides.
Tasted salt
Taste of salt
lipped-
tongued
sprayed of birds running-
high.
Over-extended
Lots of line
little dog pulling for
a maybe’d foot holding
fast to what’ s hardly
holding in.
All’s away Nothing's here
It was
as if The wind had
blown this world away
The heavens moved into
whereever they were be
yond the trees dancing
bending through their rhythmic
strength’s rhymed in to
All’s away and nothing’
s here.
Room above the kindergarten
it
was a little bit of a
little girl' s room with
those silly triffles han
ging around for walls to
be decorated upon Nothing
quite as the world would
have it But in a neatness
carefully
groomed.
Sky-viewed window
opened me out beyond
the width of my viewed-in
self as a pre cipacc of
heighten ed thought
to where if not only
there.
Trying to be involved
Trying
to be in volved
in what didn’t hasten my sense Otherwise
from a cat’ s unravel]
ing the roll of that
clothed-through where
abouts.
ForS. L.
Where
is the gen ealogy of
such intricate understanding A language not
yours but learned A back
ground in the backdrop of
my own poetic awareness
Can one learn what is be
yond the grammar of what word
s should self-define A sensi
bility that brightens the
idea as in those searching
times of moonlike.
Witnessed
The
winds tell ing their
time through these bared
fields And those clouds
massive ly column
ed-in the stillness
of approach ing dawn.
For Rosemarie
There’s a
beauty rare ly refined
as a rose but slightly
paled intricately en
hanced in the
folds of in volving
stillness.
Lost to Sleep
A day
lost to sleep dog -
pawed in that downed heat
of less inspiring suns.
Simple Truths
Let's
get back to the simple
truths She meant As if
they weren’ t getting
back at us.
Waking from Sound
Waking
from sound That inner flow
of sleep As fish through
the water’ s silent
reach of no where to be
told in fin ding out.
Asked/'answered
He asked, religion 1
answered, faith Not the
forms but in the forms
Not the priest but the word-
priest Not that feeling or
thought But His feelings
and thoughts for us.
Tropical Hospital
They called it “The Hilton”
And 1 would have booked for
a suite m those spacious
interiors of being brought
into tropical plants and
waters not even the touch of
disease that a hospital u
sually comes to mean And those
special closed-off rooms for
young chil dren still dy
ing of cancer.
For good Prices
A land that’
s lost its soul Indian
once those back-watered
routes still lis tening
for thunder Black-timed
slave lands And now its robbed
soil to
digging deep those har
bored joys of new high
rises And tou rist hands
talking for good prices.
But still
as a woman more touched
but finding yet that
real love of only now
Tropical instincts in
the darked spray ing-out-
of waves And inland enclo
sures to hear that whisper
of still fin ding-out
streams.
Nathaniel Pink’s indecisions
Not
having de cided which
way the de cisions might
mean turning out coming a
bout or still hanging in a
speechless void of that
not where be cause the why
failed to define whatever
claims it might or might
not need It was like bet
ween waking and morning
And the dark still perfor
ming its last uncertain
ties.
“A Final word, please ”
haven’t we
heard that one before
As if our words could
attain a finality in
sense When we inhabit this
uncertain self Mirror
ed mostly as the changing
mindsofa caged bird’s
involving i mage of And
admiring what hasn’t come
out to be
for long.
A finalized Sense of beauty
Why
do these naked branch
es bared of all their
other accommo dations
strangely invest us with
a finalized sense of
beauty Abstracted to their
innermost lines of
meaning.
Israel’s suffering
Was
Israel’s suffering like
a lamb in defensi
bly outcast world
foreign to the tender
ness of its calling
More in the features
of Christ than it could
behold it self in be
mg.
Hide and Seek
You can’t
hide from what you
can’t find out any
way from that other self
s shadowed Tree-find.
Out-centered
She
centering me out
between ed thought
and sense Not knowing
which was mine which hers.
Felt hurt
saw it m her eyes
some where else Couldn’
t look it a way from not
being there.
Bird’s - inview
in re
volving mir ror’s
round about that doesn'
t quite come back
to.
God-seeker
However
much we’ve reclaimed
this land to our own use
And tilled out the soil
of our finer feelings
There would always be a
dark ness that would
spread its claims again on
us Far out beyond the ti
dal urgings of this sea
to that last starried hope
of being more than what we
are or could possibly
mean.
Smaller shadows
Trying to
catch up to his telling
feet falls the smaller
shadows of growing up.
Togethered
But as Van
Eyck detailed a map of minor
objects Delight ed in their
own right-for-Meaning the
more these little things
together
ed.
Cousin-in-law
No such
thing But he’ s there with
his brimming hat and decided look cd-for-mea
nings in a dia logue to relative matters.
Wall
impenetra
blc Like you’ ve reached
its stoned height Overbearing sight Blanked no-
not-matter Lifeless to
heart.
Virgin land
Man-made
the measure of that virgin
land Took it for his wants
Stripped it to his needs
until that Mystery of light,
dark and depth was fathomed
out Lay bar-ren/bared.
If there’s no inward world
a way of
feeling one’ s thought
s shadowed in reflec
tion The re turning room
closing us for silence
in Not the things them
selves But how they’re
vealed in touch and sight
The depth through our
own contem
plations.
Double vision after the eye operation
may be
seeing what I wanted to see
and the way it may have
really been Like parent’s
wish-image of their chil
dren and those same chil
dren looking back at them
other wise in a mirror
double-
visioned
Two truths un telling the
same.
Glamour
may be
doing your self up
to where You can’t
get back down again.
Chosen
No
where to be safe That sacrificial death that
Christ told in blood
is bound to our Jewish
ness now
at the stake
of fear Nailed
to be chosen in His
redeeming
strength.
For being more
if
there’s no sense of
mystery left If the
wood’s been cut from
the dark ness of its
soul Iflove’ s but the
flesh of acting itself
through If then the
world means less for be
ing world And man’s lost
from his un heard want
s for being
more.
Of knowing where
These
curtains closed in
your need for touch
to waken whatever
light
could be felt
in the cloth of knowing
where.
At sunset
These
waters calmed an
unseen hand stilled
their rising need to
voice.
Folksy words
Southern
preacher’ s imbalance
d phrase draws you
slowly in to a baited bite
of gospelled sense.
“In God we trust”
coined and papered
over belief in a God who
distrusted their sanctioned doublesided values.
Disappointed
not quite
grieved but in that same
feelinged place Only
touched slight ly in for
hurt.
Wearing out
of self As clothes
trying too hard to be
newly
dressed.
Uptold
Rough sea
s disturbing strength
Winds uptell the ocean’s
bottomed-
hold-break-
age of what ever silent
refuge such times as
these.
Southern pine’s
whisper
ing sense needling the
wind’s finer-felt trans
parencies.
Dead speaking
Heard
the dead spea king Stranged-
in fears Sealed-in trains crossing your mind’s tracks.
Existential Fear As if some
thing wasn’t
there that should have
been Having lost what
couldn’t be found a void
a space Some
where echo ing deep
through lost silences.
Crossing a river
over
the height of being
safe from those fear-
lit sounds As streams
of persons restless
ly impulsed.
A final place
A
room en closed in
room A final place of where
nothing’s out but in That
image of used thoughts
As objects seen too often
to be loo king back.
Unseen
Too
many books here to
make me be lieve that
he’s seeing more than
those emp tied pages
can tell.
Buds-for-Leafs
These buds-for-leaf s
remind me Life’s a
small sense of seeing.
Grey
The grey
of seeing oneself A1
ways the
same.
Unsaid Words
must be
buried
some
where.
Slowed down
to the
even ness
of ironing-board
sense.
Aged
There’
11 be a
time When
there’s only time’
s being more of
us.
Re-timed
Churches
sounding
age-old
time Cold-stoned to
reticent
feet.
Seldom Smile
obliquely
felt As an Egrit where
It was least expect
ing Wings.
Despited
She
knew the right people
Lived where one should
Married to an eye-
sight-of-money Played
the social games ac
cording to class Ate and
dressed as those pictured maga zines said But
despite it all Felt some
how when not trying to
be alone despit
ed.
Waiting for Love
His life
was waiting for love
An opened door for her to
come in as he knew
it But she never came
waiting out side her own
feel for life.
Peopled with Children
They
peopled their home with
children to protect a-
gainst That one on one
defense A marriage of
being where the other wasn’
t though admiring what
wasn’t of one self in the
other.
Belle of the Party
She
was the belle of the
party The queen of hopes
loved by
more than She loved her
self At 58 appeared
drunken out of such fame,
fat unstead y of foot
to mind introduced to the
not knowing former
well-wishers Simply gazing.
Prime Choice
He was
rich and of the right faith
a serious item of
choice Like the best
of steak-throughed
taste Or a 9 foot putt
rolling with hill sense.
So Explicit
Her
voice so ex-plicit
like cutting ribbon to
size exacting find.
Herrenberg
Some
churches too thick
for their in tended Howto-heaven
Like Brahms’ late chamber
music Not seen through.
Striped by Birth
if
I were striped by birth
an innate stigma for
some It might make me
Hee to the undone intentions of where
Mountains sing for
light or the depths of
under-watered
seas.
Abstracting language
like
cutting stone to
its jewelled- in
center.
That quiet Pelican
That Si
lent quiet pelican’s
faced for lost sky’s
distant call reclines the
length where those bright
scales of fish once
found slip pery their way
in.
Last Meaning?
Is
the mind the last
meaning Or can it
see through itself
more.
Sadness in Schubert’s
(A Miner Quartet and Haydn's Sonata Hb. 24 slow mot.)
Not the
Schuber tian sad
ness of never fin
ding open-sensed But
to specifically felt
Touched-in
not out.
On Critics
If you
have us before we
have our selves in the
Categories of pre-es
tablished
criteria
It may not be the poem
at all
We’re written in.
Singing stones
Rush
of water’s time-past
singing
stones.
Snow’s sensibilities
Last of
snow’s sensi bilitics
pushed through flowered re frain.
Abandoned
As a lone
ly voiced abandon
ed land
scaped.
Identities
Like a
woman’s new hat
sitting a top
spaced-en-
chanced
impress
ions.
Twain: the last years
To be left
lonely in a world of ad
miration To deny God
because ot your own loss
When He had given all
that could be lost for
you Taking that aim at
yourself can’t defend
you against the same
You were right Despite
all your gifts You remained
more human than human
should be.
seeming
A
little dog sat a little
way of see ming him
self bigger than he
thought
he could want
to be.
Thank yon Notes
Saying
the things One should
say in the way they’
re said Isn’t saying
any thing
at all.
Pains
of where Feeling
s numbed from
thought.
Oner bearing
Too much
of him To let me
be mine.
Of Waiting
Light
rain’s
quiet sense of waiting.
Blowing up
The sea’
s regained its strength
that rough sense of waves
Some where in the blood
That winds may have blown
there to(o).
Hommage a Ibsen
If women were pretty pup-pets
There must be strings for
pulling their eyes that open
in to close Those feet dangling
for time And some where
a heart to(o)
Not far below
the surface.
Beach Mannequin
That sweet smell of perfumed
smile Clothes cut out from
pictured book
And words that don’t say
but simply look.
Imitations?
Do
children im-i tate or
think their own way out Or
are they be ing through us
Some thing more of being
them selves.
Zelenka
Lying dead for Two hundred years
as in a jewelled tomb Great art
may survive that way Unearthed
even with mistaken notes As
if what wasn’t sounded all
that time could be reheard again
right.
Berwald
They asked me about a hall
named for you Never heard
or ofThere’s that not
quite right of your way of
saying things that straighten
me out.
Self Portrait
I wrote:
Jewish minister
Modernist poet with conservative values
Biblical humorist
they never wrote back.
With Little Things
It’s that special way with the
little things That make them
truly big A mouse trying for food
The words that come self — or
dained to mind Those details
often tell more than any self
imposing view of such important
things.
Cranach’s “Fall of Man ’’ (Uffizzi)
Snake
pointedly spoke
Her eye a-wake Daring
him to take the fruit
She meant her dy ing
strength
in.
Caring for silence
as a woman
combing her hair to
where it stops by thin
king.
Joost van Cleve’s
“Magdalene’s mourning the dead Christ”
(Uffizzi)
Unfamous
in wayward corner tor
private use But stilled in
to a message She’d been
told m us Voiced
to hear.
Melting
Lost his steps in
the snow’ s mel
ting
sounds.
Siena + 1348/49
Circling that outer
sensed in narrow
ed streets Enclosin'
ed dying medieval
cries.
Witnessing
Flowers
bend down Witnessing
too much colored
weight.
Impersoned
faceless
facades
not
wanting
to see what they
may have known
once
oneness
impersoncd.
Where Cold’s
its own
permanent
truth
Woman
askingje-
welled and silvered
touch.
Speechless Deep
Saying
nothing’s
the unsaid under
cover fish silently
probing its
speech less
deep.
Learning to learn
Learning
to learn may be
the un learning
of what you should
have known.
One-parent Families
If it takes
two to make a person
It should take two to help
make him more of himself
To nourish his need for love
and inner strength
to help him discern the
where and where nots
But then It took one God to
make us all.
Sunday
That church listens for emptied stone
A voice or two still wanting
the need to praise Sunday
beach filled up for pleasure
seekers with sand and the sound
of waves and the silent wings of
birds for finding where coming in
as if called for there.
Two-sided
These
leaves can tell of shadow
from what They find in
sun.
Decides
The ridge
of these hills decides in
balance between earth and sky.
A Blessing
This tree o
pens its arms to an expanse
of sky Perhaps to bring the
stars in I thought of
a blessing to be blessed by
having seen.
Still Asleep
The swans
still asleep Tucked in the
white ness of their
wings and the rhythms of
waves that have taken them
afar to distant shores.
The Need for More
if
you tell every thing
at once
There’s nothing
to be told for more It’s
like a woman undressing
at the first night. She really needs
those clothes to be some
thing more to herself in.
In MemoriamJ. G.
I never saw quite up to
your height I mean there
was a gracious ness there
A step above my own reaching
for You may have had to
look down but never down
upon.
These niceties of age
Taking time’s rhy
thms into the blood-
length of our own
Feeling in to the
world we’ve come to sec
and touch with our own
meanings An ease of
not wanting for more
than our les sening need
s can define And that
child like ness in re
learning through the
question ing eyes of
a world that could only
be bigger
known.
That shifting sense
if
you say it differ
ently than the world’s
taken it to mean And
there’s an tin ease of not
quite appear ing your self
certainties of thinking
it so and not so Life’s
that shif ting sense as
in those tide s of where
ever bound There’ s a watching
moon above it all that
you would want to seem
down here.
For being more
if
life’s sim ply a chance
factor And the sprout
in that Greenness
for grass isn’t any
thing more than its be
ing touched-through in
self appear ance And the
flight of birds arou
sing the au tumn winds to
a new height to instinct
that wanting warmth was
only What it was not ask
ing for more or the why
and where
of.
Puppet play Puppets
She played herself in
to Mother ing child -
like
thoughts.
May have been
Spring
may have been that
little girl with posey
hair and Eyes in wa
kening
sounds.
Outpoemed
this room
from extra mea
nings Like a sapless
spring.
Slow Steps/slow thoughts
Slow steps
slow thoughts I ask
these trees up to be
ing their height The
air still Waiting for
this
light sub
duedin a dis tance
I can’t bring by
slowing my step to
slowed in
thoughts.
Opened windows
that
breadth of
air in the wind to
spaced.
Like any other day
A day like any other
as if
Any other
day could be like this
Selecting
thoughts
like flower s for a
readied vase Each in-
between colored What
She meant for touch And
that vase steadied as
it was be yond glance.
Mary, the Mother
Mary
the mother of wanting
for more Unfathom
ed that still ness of self-
toned-quiet ude Angcll
ed in Brightness.
Enveloping
This
room en veloping
the me of mine-closeness of where thin
king’s for.
Trilogy of
a)	Return to brae! 1945/48 Dead
don’t speak to living
only now Where the
charred
flesh and
bared rawed fields
of wan ton land I-
maged new life upon
smoul
dcring heaps of dead past.
b)	Jesus in Auschwitz
Would
Jesus have recognised
himself there/ trained to
the death camps of li
ving hopes Blood re
deemed from tears The
cry The cross ed wayward
signs Out spreading
hands.
c)	To Kingdom oj Peace This
moon blot ted out
for the blood of when
Time’s a gonized from
its last
fears.
Room without windows
if
there’s no way of loo
king out How can I
find this reach with
in Imprison ed from
these walls closed in
impenetra ble silence.
Room without windows II
How
can these freshly cut
flowers, how ever fine
ly felt to their cool
ed through water Bloom
without the
sky to see
to open their sense
to a mind
of space
in light.
Carpet’s red
This
carpet’s calling in
red the deep ness of
where wine unfolds
through wave s of resplen
dent warmth.
Preacher’s Room
This
musky smell of time-
told preacher s pointing
their meaning for me And
nothing but bibles here
to help forget that the
Lord created sun and the
width of a wider world
written so indelibly dear-
pages of His
living word.
In Fineness
Why
does
this white
of birch slender
ly ex posing in
fineness-
leaf.
Releasing
These
finely lit bud-star
s relea
sing
Evening’ s breath
ed-in
light.
Advertising Model
Teeth
ed-in per fectly con
sumed smile of the round
ed redness assuming
lips And eyebrowed to
its made-up intention
less Curved.
Cross-felt
Checker
ed shirt' s selfintended smilelines of cross-felt
proba-
bilities.
Weekend Father’s
more than
a childless looking to
have halved their self
certain
tics from.
all those pillows
could but dream out
that tired ness of
longing
in sleep.
Rain buds
touching in branch
to the place of leaf
ed remem brance
s.
Lutheran pre-Situation
Before
he knew Where he was
He couldn’t get out with
out knowing
and out wasn’ t the same
Closing door s locked be
hind a finality of last
chances weren’ t offered Only
a one way last station
ed being Imprisoned there
If that was a there
deeper within himself than
He could have possibly
imagined.
mpiricism?
if
there’s a science of
man It’s be cause He think
s he knows what he sees
But perhaps then doesn’t
see what he doesn’t know
It’s the in visibly there
of love of self of God
and of some-such meanings
that transcend what man
doesn’t see because he
doesn’t know That makes man
man.
Statistics
may turn me into a
number hid den from
permanent
sight As if
my shirt wasn’t grey
or white But
others thought it
might have to be
82 %.
Prophetic sense
That
lone voice in a world
lonely from self Voice
less to
those deeper
meanings that make man
man to be May be heard
if that lis tening’s
hard enough.
The dilemma
Man
decides mostly a
gainst him self Be
cause what he wants
isn’t want ed of him
But if what’ s wanted of
him is what Others mean as
their wants Then who’s to
decide at all.
Without God
that defense against our
selves His law that
speaks for us against our
vacant claim s of self
His love the final fruit
s of our denying Him
without God there’s only
a without.
Where
does beginning begin here
Life seems in the middle
of a process As a bird
keyed to its branch for
a moment or less of
what He wanted to
ask.
Towards tonality
Why
does the sun want to
seem to(o) far Touched from
light gather ing in a
moment of hesitant
sound.
Interaction
These
trees stea died for fruit
And 1 ripened in
looking.
Passed
These
landscaped trees have
taken their own design
of becoming in Where
this train farther off
than appear
s.
Lessened
Take
account of your life
I was told But it all
added up to subtrac
tion accoun ted for an
aging
process.
Jesus/Buddha
Buddha
wanted to get us
out of this world
of ourselves Jesus gave
himself for a world
that didn't want His
knowing too much of Why
we wanted to kill
Him.
Some Kinds of Diagnosing
couldn’t quite get
him into one of their
categories So they cut
off some of the fringe
aspects to fit him in
to their proper framc-
for-reference.
Didn ’t know
I didn’t
know You didn’t want
me to know Why not
is too late now.
Outlasting
Wanting for wind through
this rough sea’s impene
trable
thoughts.
Fading out
Morning
moon
Night’s
hiding out its
after
glow.
Paced
He paced his
steps to his inward
length of
thoughts.
If
it isn’t what we’
ve lost
We’ve found
Time re deems it
self either way.
Cyclops?
He didn’t see it my way
1 didn’t see it his
And if we did Could we see it
both ways at once.
Castle at Sirmione
These
stones still haunt their
silent pose Fortified a-
gainst ages ot waiting in
Resolved their self-
enclosed dis
tance.
Bells
These
bells know A founded
consonance of timed-
listening
aloud.
Finer Sense
A
touch
ofbird’s
Reeds singing in
their ft ner sense.
Righting one self
it'
the other’ s always
wrong and I’m always
right How can I right
myselfby being wrong
for a change.
Down to size
if
you cut him down to
size He may have to
patch you back up a
gain.
Out finding
A
little girl following
her feet to where
She found them out
again.
Captiva Bay
That
bay was as calm as the
gathering in of one’s
thoughts A stillness
as if the sun had settled
there Lit in a permanency
or its in-perceiving
glow.
The Dream (Great Gatsby) If
Daisy never knew more
than her monied voice
can tell
that inconstant need
to being lov ed Why then
this dream See ing through
as even a part of your own
unguarded self or of a false
ly placed A merican myth
doesn’t make it any more
true to be lieve in sim
ply because it’s believed.
Endangered species
The
list’s
getting longer
The times shorter
Man’s the main enemy Draining
their swamps cutting down the
dark of their forest into
habitats He wants to reclaim
for his self-seeking self
And if the birds have flown
out of sight And those strange
creatures extinct from their
God-given instincts Who's
next on all those increa
sing shortlists.
For its own Sake
Honesty
for its own sake
is Like lo ving more
than You
can realize.
Deep down
For some
being at the bottom
of things Is the only
way to ri sing up
again.
Routine
He got so used to
his routine that Flis clo
thes start ed looking
all the same.
Psychoage
Being
so obsessed with your
self that There’s
little left
of.
Systems
are like houses It’
s often dif ficult to
see through
them.
Progress
is where you didn’t
want to be
later.
Freedom
If freedom is most al
ways from How are you
going to find your
way back to?
If
you give into your
self It’ s a ques
tion of Who’s gi
ving and What’s ta
king.
Ambiguity
if
they’re two ways of
seeing it right May
be the right way’
s doing it wrong.
Kassandra (1964)
Aber
der Wind spricht, nur zu mir
Die Wellen klagen einen scharferen
Sinn Ich mochte rnich in der
Nacht verstecken ein Baum, meine
Blatter zur Erde geschiittet Ich
mochte nackt sein vor dem Sturm,
mein Stamm hart gcblasen Aber
der Wind spricht noch.
Of haunted dreams
This house
estranged from my
sense-moon’ s Grasping
the dark of not knowing
where I sleep of haunted dreams.
Cut Grass
This grass
cut to new meaning
from over grown thoughts
and the wee ding desires
breeding
instincts
sprouting out their
own fears.
Wind-fright Quivering flo wers wind-
fright That aimed of
color to.
On the Suffering of a retarded child
She did
n’t know the words
for suffering But she knew
what It was perhaps even
more so
Some thing dark for her
incompre
hensible ly becoming.
less.
What comes next
What
comes if there isn’t
a coming next All
lined up for the star
ting aims at the finish
Nothing more reached at
tained as if there was a
final sense in this.
“Prussian blue,
it ’ll fade” (jI. S. on CPF: Bach) Too distinct to make its mark
known A clarity of lesser
intent Or would you
rather unravel it to the
cloth of in terwoven fin
alities.
For the Freudians
you know all the an
severs before the question
s can take-in Impulsed
to their tin certain mea
nings It’s like a river dried of direc
dons.
Tamed
A
white fence circling a
round where it happen
ed to be As the glad
ly face of some tamed
animal’s be ing soothed
in quiet
ness.
Hellenic
The
beauty of man may be
more classi cally pro
portioned through the
hands of his benevolent
creator Than within the
realms of reach of lhs own
self-justi
fications.
Overstepping
the lines of where
you were written out
to be As uneven
ed cobble-stoned step
s taken at what ever
speed But angled out
to receive your tenta
tive arriv ing approach.
22 Oak Lane
A
house windowed in
the depth of my past Red-
bricked to the feature
s of looking out through
the world that has made
me from But columned in
white to the height of
what has held my meaning
for.
King David (tin-fail) All
those gifts The Lord
had given almost a sent
blance of what those
wise men had cared for
Following the star to
your namesake with over
reaching desires You
took what wasn’t offer
ed as yours Exposed to the
death claims of those sen
sual me-for-mine Ion
gings-
Looking back
means more for most
than the now as it was
Man’s need s to find
a meaning where he
wasn’t.
That rhythmic urge
Hammering nails in-to a
coffin a-cross that
rhythmic urge to tell
the end in that handswinging from fate.
Enlarged
All light
s on House enlarged
from awai ting what
wouldn’t
happen.
A Color of its own
The
rain has a color of
its own Unseen but
speaking found as the
quiet in untouch
ed roses.
A ll used up
as a coin worn down
from its vin tage value
Debased ofits minted meaning’s indeci pherable
to touch and sense.
Out-lined
tree
Skeletal
branch
thinned
in.
Guest room leaving
I’ve
slept this room out
of its aban doned mean
ings An apple left
circled to the size
of its plate And flowers
selective ly touch
ed by.
Finding in
Where
from is to The leaving
in coming As if 1
could find myselfbe
hind.
Deciding
“God
will decide Just pray
long enough” But He de
cidcd long a go that we
should de cide for our
selves in the freedom He
gave us to accept His fi
nal answer.
Little girl lost
She
never found herself A
little girl lost pic
king flower s while
forgetting the garden
she’s in.
A sense of moon
There
was a sense of moon
in coming As that feel
for snow hasn’t real
ized itself.
Cemetery
Stones
engraved to living
words ol mu ted presence
Standing stilled to
where from and what
to.
Name dropping
Dropping
names to be picked back
up again Unpersoned
from the flesh and blood
of where they weren’t
As if the name itself
s abandon ed to what It
might be attributable
to.
Getting ahead
We
may all be getting a
head But the finish line’
s the no more coming
on of The headless horse
man’s tilting from his
stainless
steel-armor
cd in self-
certainty.
The Making of
Were
we taught to feel-
in the way that was
only us The making
of a mind’ s seldom
touched-
from
person.
Jonathan
Too good
to be king Less passion
war-time needs He resigned him self in the
depth of de votion to
David’s un certain but
Triumphal
ascent.
Coming straight to the point
might un even that
truth to the question
ings of where’s co
ming from And if that
“point” may have indeed
succeed cd itself to
successive
uncertain
ties.
David/'Absalom
split
down the middle as
Jacob and Israel Two
persons one truth
The kingly father’s upstart son and He Defending him
self against his own
choice That will to selfdefeat But triumphal
in the loss for repent
ant tears.
Underlying Meanings
if
the “truth” may have
underly ing meaning
s As these birds winged beyond their impulse
d through shadow.
Dualities
The clarity of
word redefining that uncertain
ty in self As a por
trait exacted for
then and there But un
mistak ably other
wise.
Rembrandt’s Saskia (1634-42Kassel)
That pink
she’s worthy of your wife
Dressed in the richness of
cloth and fur Jewelled/me-
tallic gleam And the smooth
ed face Clo sed hands
That clasp of lip-determined glanced through
your admiring skills.
Anatolian Restaurant (Gottingen)
Seeing
through glass or glass see
ing through That room ordered in the clarity of
space-tables set to their
silvered touch Candle’s flame
but quietly felt from the
dark of fal len leaves.
Outlearned
She
only knew that she’d
outlearned the meaning
s She needed to know
When her teacher overstepped that wisdom for
the image of a lesser
self.
Tropical fish
The co
loring of that fish
brighten ed me in
to an aware ness of
why waters recede from
the spectrum of such an
impending
glow.
Puzzled in
He puzzled in the parts to
fit the nrea ning of his
own self sa tisfaction
s.
Spaced out
There
was always that vacancy
from self in the o
pen fields spaced out
to the where of where
wasn’t.
Christ presented to the Jews (Diner)
To
see the i mage of one’
s own suf fering Who
denied Him By
increas ing the ex
tent of that unseen
cause.
If there is peace
even with in the ebb
and flow of this world’
s lasting fears It must
come from a far Perhaps
with only a star to
find its sol emn way to
a place some where be
yond the still ness of where
our heart’s longings
can be timed
to rest.
Through the realms of Christmas Eve
brought in from the depth
of these wai ting moment
s Night now laycd silently
to rest in the softness
of freshly fallen snow
And stars watching o
ver the dis tance of
where sleep pervadese
ven through this wind’
s finding
in voice.
Poetry books by David Jaffin
1)	Conformed to Stone, Abelard-Schuman,
New York, 1968, London 1970.
2)	Emptied Spaces, with an illustration byjacques Lipschitz, Abelard-Schuman, London 1972.
3)	In the Glass of Winter, Abelard-Schuman,
London 1975, with an illustration by Mordechai Ardon.
4)	As One, The Elizabeth Press, New Rochelle, N. Y. 1975.
5)	The Half of a Circle, The Elizabeth Press,
New Rochelle, N. Y. 1977.
6)	Space of, The Elizabeth Press, New Rochelle, N. Y. 1978.
7)	Preceptions, The Elizabeth Press, New Rochelle,
N. Y. 1979.
8)	For the Finger’s Want of Sound, Shearsman Plymouth, England, 1982.
9)	The Density for Color, Shearsman Plymouth,
England, 1982.
10)	Selected Poems, English/Hebrew,
Massada Publishers, Givatyim, Israel, 1982.
11)	The Telling of Time, Shearsman, Kentisbeare,
England, 2000 + Johannis, Lahr, Germany.
12)	That Sense for Meaning, Shearsman, Kentisbeare, England, 2001 + Johannis, Lahr, Germany.
13)	Into the timeless Deep, Shearsman, Kentisbeare, England, 2002 +Johannis, Lahr, Germany.
14)	A Birth in Seeing, Shearsman, Exeter,
England, 2003 + Johannis, Lahr, Germany.
■H
|g®g®8fB
David Jaffin
BUI
David Jaffin's Preceptions is a fine book... Jaffin's poems, slight on the page, entice, engage, amuse. Yet their brief touchings move toward and often reach wholeness, and they are poems of philosophical consequence out of keeping with much of modern poetics. The poems catch perceptions in the act of happening, to be, the short-line verse appropriate to what.becomes.
Paul Ramsay, The Sewanee Review.
David Jaffin is a master of the restrained but purposeful statement. If his poems do not have quite the briefness of the haiku, they have a good deal of its light-dark inflection and rounded perfection of form... Jaffin's poems almost always give an impression of "light reflecting light". The fact is, that if one wants restraint and elegance, he will find it in abundance here. Jaffin's subtleties are, in short, dazzling.
The Library Journal on Conformed to Stone
Mr. Jaffin uses words with a real fineness of diction which emphasizes a characteristic understatement of emotion. One recognizes a cultivated sensibility. He adopts a theme and mode which one cannot help but admire. He writes very well indeed.
Norman Holmes Pearson
Poems in a tradition that is not European, not American, not jin many ways) Oriental, but Jaffinesque. There is no especial code to the unravelling of the poems, but that of commonplace, but intricate, human consideration. Jaffin's voice is unique and fascinating.
Tribune (London) on As One
David Jaffin has created in his four books of poetry published so far a world so unique, in verse so tight and controlled, that I can think of only two poets who are at all comparable: Emily Dickinson and Lorine Niedecker. He shares with both a vision of reality which is sharp and threatening. His poems are jagged pieces of ice which stab at the heart, but melt before causing damage... Jaffin explores the anima in ways which surpass even Robert Duncan's explorations of that part of the male psyche...
St. Andrews Review