drmstream[writing]

Peb­bles   Every­thing, every­where, a memo­r­ial seen from the cor­ner of my eye; a puz­zle piece, a part of a recon­struc­tion, a mem­ory. A mes­sage – I am still here with you, for you. Like a spy, I read code left in a news­pa­per or flash­ing past on a com­puter mon­i­tor, rec­og­niz­able only to me.   I carry a peb­ble in […]

Silence A day of Silence Can be a pil­grim­age in itself. A day of Silence Can help you lis­ten To the Soul play Its mar­vel­lous lute and drum. Is not most talk­ing A crazed defence of a crum­bling fort? I thought we came here To sur­ren­der in Silence, To yield to Light and Hap­pi­ness, To Dance within […]

16 Cold Moun­tain is a house With­out beams or walls. The six doors left and right are open The hall is blue sky. The rooms all vacant and vague The east wall beats on the west wall At the cen­ter noth­ing. Bor­row­ers don’t bother me In the cold I build a lit­tle fire When I’m […]

After Mak­ing Love, We Hear Foot­steps For I can snore like a bull­horn or play loud music or sit up talk­ing with any rea­son­ably sober Irish­man and Fer­gus will only sink deeper into his dream­less sleep, which goes by all in one flash, but let there be that heavy breath­ing or a sti­fled come-cry anywhere […]

Hav­ing a Coke with You BY Frank O’Hara is even more fun than going to San Sebas­t­ian, Irún, Hen­daye, Biar­ritz, Bay­onne or being sick to my stom­ach on the Trav­es­era de Gra­cia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a bet­ter hap­pier St. Sebas­t­ian partly because of my love for you, partly […]

On The Meet­ing Of Gar­cía Lorca And Hart Crane Brook­lyn, 1929. Of course Crane’s been drink­ing and has no idea who this curi­ous Andalu­sian is, unable even to speak the lan­guage of poetry. The young man who brought them together knows both Span­ish and Eng­lish, but he has a headache from jump­ing back and forth from […]

My Dragon One day as I was walk­ing I passed a secret cave carved in a moun­tain face, so I decided to go in. Inside the cave I heard a roar. I got a lit­tle scared but I kept going. Now I could see some­thing red. I wanted to run back but I was too […]

The first time I held you We were in the hos­pi­tal room before your mother Came out of recov­ery. I was ragged From the chaotic night, the fast change Into oper­at­ing scrubs, the paced urgency Of the nurs­ing staff as they rolled the gur­ney Through the dou­ble doors, two lives Hang­ing in the bal­ance. You were […]

The impor­tance of things my father said I might be asked To speak at his funeral. I’ll struc­ture the sen­tences to soften The bru­tal impact remem­bered From a ques­tion he asked once About my grand­fa­ther that screamed “Why is he so stu­pid?“ Grandpa liked fish­ing Out by the bridge pylons. My father ran out things […]

Being good at being a human is like get­ting cer­ti­fied to fly with instru­ments:  it takes hours of train­ing and we rarely get it right the first time. In a blog post last fall, anthro­pol­o­gist Melvin Kon­ner wrote his excite­ment about the new sci­ence devel­op­ing that would influ­ence the study of the human con­di­tion. He framed […]