TheDistances ofSleep · TheDistances ofSleep StevenCarter T h e D i s t a n c e s o f S l e e p S t...
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The Distances of Sleep Steven Carter The Distances of Sleep Steven Carter Steven Carter is a retired emeritus professor of English and former Senior Fulbright Fellow at two Polish universities having taught for thirty eight years The author of forty published books he is the recipient of numerous literary awards including the Schachterle Prize presented by the National Society for Literature and Science; UNESCOs Nuove Lettere International Poetry and Literature Prize twice; the Eric Hoffer Foundations Montaigne Medal; st Prize in the British International Haiku Awards competition haibun section; and nd Prize in the Haiku Presence International Haiku competition A lba Publishing US UK € A
Transcript of TheDistances ofSleep · TheDistances ofSleep StevenCarter T h e D i s t a n c e s o f S l e e p S t...
The Distancesof Sleep
Steven Carter
TheDistancesofSleep
StevenCarter
Steven Carter is a retired emeritus professor ofEnglish and former Senior Fulbright Fellowat two Polish universities, having taught for thirty-eight years. The author of forty published books, heis the recipient of numerous literary awards,including the Schachterle Prize presented by theNational Society for Literature and Science;UNESCO7s Nuove Lettere International Poetry andLiterature Prize �twice�; the Eric HofferFoundation7s MontaigneMedal; 1st Prize in the 2012British International Haiku Awards competition�haibun section�; and 2nd Prize in the 2011 HaikuPresence International Haiku competition.
Alba PublishingUS$15 / UK £10 / €12 AA
The Distancesof Sleep
By the same authorSnow MoonAfter Blossom ViewingPillars of FireGingko LeavesChrysanthemum GardenInteriorsThe DistancesLeaves and AngelsEkphrasisRiver MistInvisible RiversThe Sound of Purple
Alba Publishing
The Distancesof Sleep
Steven Carter
Published by Alba Publishing,P O Box 266, UxbridgeUB9 5NX, United Kingdomwww.albapublishing.com
© 2013 Steven CarterAll rights reservedNo part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in aretrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwisewithout the prior written permission of the copyright owners.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the BritishLibrary
ISBN: 978-0-9575265-7-0
Edited, designed and typeset by Kim RichardsonCover image © petarpaunchev/Dreamstime.comPrinted and bound by imprintdigital, Devon, UK
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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The following haiku and tanka originally appeared, orwill be appearing, in the following journals: "In deepwoods", "Purple hours" (different version), and "DeathSentence" in Red Lights; "Songs of Eden's blue thrush"in Chrysanthemum; "Ghost of my mother" in Lynx;"Branches on my window" in Ribbons, "Wind in jack-pines" and "The moon a magic lantern" in Skylark;"Invisible won't listen" in Kokako; "Stirring bones" in AHundred Gourds; "Two dimensions" in Blithe Spirit;"The child I was" in Kernels.
Contents
Book I 6 HAIKU 7
Book II 6 TANKA 47
Book III 6 STALACTITES 75
Knots 6 NEW ZEN APHORISMS 109
—For H. M.Good dog-soldier
7
Book IHaiku
8
Held by the glow of Held candles
Midwinter sky
[After Marian Olson]
The night too dark to hear what you won’t say
9
Day-planner in the trash Indian summer’s
Indian summer
Twilight—Stealing colors from dawn
Dawn—
10
1.
I see the world more clearlyThe eye surgeon—
There will be some pain
2.
HurryingPast
Mirrors
11
1.
The fall of light in summer rain
2.
Dancing—Stars
Through tears
12
Pretending the strayCat’s affection
Is affection
You and ILost and found—
Lost and—Lost
13
At the last momentWe both pull back
The ocean and I
69The months
Counting me
14
Sibley Park fireflies winking for us and not for us
Blushing brideVeils
Of rain
15
Settled . . . she puts on the other shoe
The ache Of cobblestones
Auschwitz
16
Running overWith pity
The beggar’s empty cup
Ancient Indian interment site farm truck up on blocks
17
Innocence on a swingAbove the clouds
Almost
Scolded by MumKid with a dirty face
Kissed by Mother Earth
18
Curves of the hillOf my love
Under the hill
Crumbling line shackOne crumpled boot
I fail the words
19
Bottom of an oceanDeep in his eyes
Afghanistan
Low tide on time From the next dune
What did you expect?
20
The painOf not comprehending
Your pain
I call it death-in-life twilight slips into something more comfortable
21
I’d like to answerMr. Owl
But who—who am I?
Church belfry pigeons know for whom it tolls
22
Campfire ashesTrembling with fright a ghost
Tells people stories
Green dragonflies coupling she blows me a kiss
23
Folding and unfoldingThe Dear John letter,
John
Death-rattle of dry leaves stomped on by kids who never die
24
Wealthy Sunday strollers—Shaking diamonds from their wings
Fountain birds
Grandma’s wintry gaze what won’t be will be
25
The perfect affairSleeping with quietness,
Quietness
Fogged-up rear-view mirror God knows I didn’t try
26
AugustAugust
August
Happy unhappy birthday the mirror talks back
27
1.
The horror of being comforted amethyst star
2.
Her address book phone numbers in black ink in fading pencilBiblical quotes
28
Leaning on me the dying pine tree I lean on
L P’s apparentlyNot long enough
—1958
29
1.
Mum wipes his faceOf dust
He will become
2.
He wipes his faceOf dust
Tossed on the coffin
30
ScissorsRusted shut
—Desire
Curlews Your call is important to us—
31
Back from the brinkShe survives
My survival guilt
Abandoned farmhouse moths in and out quick as a lifetime
32
Pussy-willows in the moon I pick a soft shadow
Sea-waves of wind in the wheat the wheat is what it is
33
Thirsty moon down to the lake —Level falling
An eagle gets off the world
34
1.
I tattle to the gods Look what I’m not doing
2.
I tattle on the gods Look what they’re not doing
35
The ocean past present past
No reason is the reason O rose thou art sick
36
Sensational disclosures from the Garden! Butterflies drunk on air!
High fivesToo high to touch
Anasazi handprints
37
Always the last to know strip tease of autumn aspens
Revelations in the sky! Clouds impersonating clouds!
38
Glasses broken I read in all languages
The wind returns my name to me OR CURRENT RESIDENT
39
Drinking at the cold spring God is dead rings in my teeth
Full moon overheard on the psych ward Hey, time to act like lunatics!
40
Night of fallen leaves devil’s moths halo candle-flames
Burning my journals another log another log on the fire
41
—Wild stars
A nothing leaf new gives under it’s the all moon
[This haiku reflects my notion, shared by many, that each leaf, star,
cloud, etc. = a cosmos unto itself. Hence the it’s]
42
—Wet moonlight
Swan Lake diamonds of sun rippling nearer to me of little faith —The Artist has cleverly concealed
43
1.
Box confession good for the soul of the listener
2.
Box all ears a devil’s moth
44
1.
Spindrift the moon slaps my face
2.
Spindrift the moon—I am a poem, you fool!
45
Ants lugging crumbs out of chard theweight of the world
I imagine out loud The moon hanging from a string
My grandson sees it then I do too
46
Forest for the trees is it love for thekisses or kisses for the love
Used paperbackTo Phil from Sue
No marginalia
47
Book IITanka
48
TTWWOO FFOORR TTHHEE FFAALLLLEENN
under summer grass, the dreams of warriors—After Basho
1.
Windless flags hang their headsFrom the teleprompterGeneral Powell:—Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrificeCeremonial guns fire blanks
2.
Scars— Bomber contrailsAn eternityFor the supple skyTo heal
49
Forbidden colors—Shades of sunAnd moonLostIn her dark curls
I think them braveThe struggles Of snowy crocusesMauve leaves Touch white silence
50
StreetlampsCircles of lightCircles of darkA drunk staggers intoThe human condition
Her mouth agapeGod knows I triedTo charm her w/ the music Of the Greek wordFor holy love
51
In her hairTints Of September moons DistancesOf sleep
In deep woodsGreen rain,Hidden flowersThoreau’s last words—Moose, Indians
52
Death sentenceDoc’s eyes on the wallStill on its wayLight From a newborn star
Stirring bones On the bottomSouth to north A river runs throughThe words we don’t say
53
Sullen moonEmpty sky—Filled with emptinessBashoHas a frog in his throat
Sleepwalking through my dayAwakened by the touch ofLilacs On my cheek So dream-like
54
Light—knottedAround Zeus’ pinky fingerSo he won’t forget to rememberThe Big WhimperComing to a star near you
Songs of Eden’s blue thrushGate-crash my dreams whereSongs are strictly forbiddenWaking I fall Fall for the singing
55
SilencesBetween rain-showersFog forms on the BayThereforeI am not
Purple hoursEmbraced by evening lightAfter Mom’s deathA purple sweaterWith one button missing
56
Dust-covered— Gray jewelry box containingHer amethyst ring andA journeyTo the end of the night
Ghost of my mother—Once uponA moonWinter dreamsA tired smile
57
3. a.m.—scrapingsOf Memory on the paneLost and found—Lost and—Lost
MoonsetThe top drawerI never openWhereDid we put the truth?
58
He’s looking down on usGrandma used to say of GrandpaI always wanted to askWhat if we livedAt the South Pole
John the mailman pulls upPain I know is comingNot quite here yet—Not quite here yet—. . . OR CURRENT OCCUPANT
59
Cradling it Like a newbornFilled with ashesThe urnNo heavier
Wind-whipped morningGalloping into deep woodsLast night’s dream of youAstride the secretsKeeping us
60
Persistence at twilight Of the feeling of rocking From today’s sail In tonight’s dream I’ve already drowned
Forty years onSame mountainSame lavender-gray shadowsSame me (or not)Jim Morrison—This is the end
61
Under two voluptuous moons We breathe stones;As fish say of water (Don’t forget the talking fish!)It all seems quite natural
Branches on my windowBone-scrape the glassOne more dayThe test results Delayed
62
Dawn’s sheltering skyThe perpetual smirkOf a desert tortoise;Hey, he seems to say,The rent’s free—
Two dimensionsOf a childhood selfCut out of black paper:Well, she did what she shouldAs long as she could
63
Swan Lake tosses in her sleepWaves (indignant virgins) Slap the shore I lie still.I keep my eyes open.
Numbing our painThe agony Of rosesStabbed In a crystal vase
64
No, no, dream down excuses, Don’t dream them up!They send me you-know-where(I bump into Eurydice)Into zero summer
Empty hours between poems Like Kona weather On Maui Death-in-life Till the trade winds turn ‘round
65
70 candles and the moonShiningOn Memory’s Bleached bonesThere must’ve been a cake
My bitter promise NotTo remember usTill dawn brokeYou know the rest
66
Please don’t tell me The sun falsifies the is that is In shadows embracing usIn shadows We embrace for real
Moon Full of mischiefChurning up killerRip-tidesOh, she’s just going through a phase—
67
—The child I wasThe child I amThe child I will be—In a hall of funhouse mirrorsI turn, turn, turn from the children
At 120 mph the teen down the streetMuttered to his speedometer That’s all she wrote—His only immortalityFading graffiti
68
Silver stoicism Of moonlightMy secret sharerI felt nothingTherefore I was
Crippled cartwheels Of newborn starsMirror of OrionHow dare you return to me What I am
69
Fading glories Of dreamlessnessGlories of twilightFrom a vindictive mirrorSleep mutters Shall we dance?
A turbulence of dreamsTucked between lake-wavesStill asleepI see a contrition of birchesBowing
70
My blind friendOn Sartre’s Being and Nothingness“I guess there’re a lot of things I can’t see.”I have nothing to say
Bone-white skyBone-white starsBone-white sea-fogYou get the messageOr do you—being definitely alive
71
O the in between-NessOf the worldAnd of each affairI knew would be the last
AprilIs the kindest monthWhisperingTo snowy crocusesPatience
72
On my palate a tasteOf ChardonnayDrunk on airButterfliesPaint the wind
Last day of winterOceanIn the dropOfAll my farewells
73
Wind in jack-pines Breath of the Spirit said the BlackfeetUnder a Montana heavenI forgetTo breathe
Sounds ghosts makeFrom the garden haunting—A hum of beesWhat I hearIs not what I heard from
74
Invisible won't listenVisible is deafTherefore—thereforeDark musicBetween the words
The moon a magic lanternO pocked and pitted mirrorGiving us back to usIn my dimming vision The word reads tragic
75
Book IIIStalactites
76
AAUUTTHHOORR77SS NNOOTTEE TTOO TTHHEE RREEAADDEERR
A few months ago, working on a book of haikutitled The Sound of Purple, something began to worryme.
Haiku, regardless of the antediluvian 5-7-5structure and/or the number of words, are stillsequential; that is, they move in time from point A topoint C (assuming they’re three-liners): like—well,the conventional English sentence.
Yes, haiku ought to be more capable thansentences of producing what T.S. Eliot called “anemotional and intellectual complex in an instant oftime.” Still, time—the so-called flow of time—has thefinal say.
But life isn’t always sequential; when memorykicks in maybe it’s never sequential. As Proust andBergson understood, language struggles (perpetually)with the Perpetual Now: the heart of the heart ofexperience.
Stream of consciousness addresses this issue, butwith limited if brilliant success (cf. Faulkner, Joyce,and Virginia Woolf ). Even with Molly Bloom’s eroticreveries, there’s still a Point A and a Point B from pageto page, right up to the final, glorious Yes.
There’s a difference, I think, between experiencingthings in time and experiencing things with time.Time is less a medium—water to oblivious fish—thanit is a bosom companion. We are less in time than weare with time.
—Think of two people riding in a car, talking
77
more or less at the same time, each hearing andunderstanding the other’s words. Time exists for them,of course, but in instances of simultaneousdiscourse—what I’m attempting in Stalactites—itsflow takes a back seat to the immediacy—the“complex”—of what’s being said.
In 1966 a writer from Cahiers du Cinema askedfamed movie director Jean-Luc Godard: “Surely youagree, M. Godard, that a film should have abeginning, middle, and an end!” “Of course,” Godardreplied. “But not necessarily in that order.”
Memory works the same way, always confusingbeginnings, middles, and ends. Occasionally, if thewaters of experience—still or choppy—run deepenough, they become seamless, yielding an emotionunavailable when (what seemed to be) separatemoments were experienced.
How to get this down in writing? I remember thepoet Jack Spicer insisting, “The perfect poem has aninfinitely small vocabulary.” In other words, the idealcomplex I’m trying to describe exists not “in” or“between” the lines, but beyond the lines—wherewords can’t go.
And yet we shouldn’t say much less feel that timeis redundant to the “truth” of experience. Time is verymysterious. Thanks to Einstein we know that spaceand time are all of a piece: yet different. We can moveforward and backward in space—but not in time.Why? Maybe the “flow of (space-) time” isn’t a thingin itself, but something to bounce off as we struggle toknow the “Now’s” of our lives, separate from past,
78
present, and future. To me, time is the midwife of these “Now’s.” As a
quantum physicist says with a chortle, “If time didn’texist everything would happen at once!” Well, thisisn’t what happens in what follows. But even when astalactite seems to be sequential, my hope is that thewedding of intellect and emotion will succeed inmaking of the two intersecting “columns” one.
79
BrightHourRedsOfStarvingTheInWolfAFeastingDarkOnSkyDarkness
80
MyFromMagicMyDecoderParents’ RingBedroom—LightsWhy?Up
81
Silence1After+The1Night-=Bird’s OCry
82
NoAThePeach-EarthBlossomDoesn’tFallsMove
83
AloneBeyondInTheTheCrackedAttic—Window-pane—TinyColdViolinComforterOfOfASnowMosquito
84
MyCupping LastRainMemoryInOfBothHerHands
85
BottomlessWindLake—FromNoNowhereHaikuToTodayNowhere
86
GazeDeathOfOfYourAGlassGlass-wingCat
87
DeathVivaldi’sInFourSummerSeasons
88
Floating— WhisperedPaleToGreenALight Stranger:OnNana’sDarkLastGreenWordsLeaves
89
MoonTheInRainMyKnowsGlassOnly OfOneChardonnayThing
90
ThisSleeping,OceanSheWithWhispersOrSomeoneWithoutElse’sANameName
91
WinterSpringMirrorCleaning—He(ASeesBoxTheirOfLostToys)Son
92
DyingComedyIsIsEasy Hard
[The last words of the great Englishactor Edmund Kean]
93
ChardonnaySummerFillsSkyTheFilledBillWithUntil EmptinessTheUntil Bill Thunder
94
AIYoungster SayKicks(ToUpMyselfPaleOnly)PuffsDustOfToDustDust
95
TeacupTremblingHeldOfInRain-BothShadowsHands
96
TasteDryOf Wishing Honeysuckle Well
97
TurnZenATemple—StoneBonsaiOver—GardenWhatBeDisappearsVeryIs CarefulAlso Not PartTo Of SayYouBanzai
98
The ColdWindLightHasFromNoAShapeNewbornSaveStarInStillPine-OnBranchesItsResistingMerry The WayWind
99
Torrents“IOfHopeBlueYou’llShadowsUnderstand”
100
GazeDeathOfOfYourAGlassHummingbirdCat
101
SheDiscovering FinallyI’mFindsHoldingTheAWordsDrink
102
Fading—TheColdMistColors,IsClearTheColors Mountain
103
SalesDoctorCallCarefullyHowAvoidingAreEyeYouContactToday
104
CreepingSentryOverGuardedTheByWall—ThePlum-GateBlossoms
105
The—Grandpa’s NeedMossyToHeadstoneFeelInSomething Winter
106
“My ShadowingLifePine-IsShadowsAnPine-EmptyShadowsPlace”
107
VioletOneShadowsLessDownBedroomTheToSkyForget
108
109
KnotsNew Zen Aphorisms
Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, Icontradict myself
—Walt Whitman
110
1.
Say IfGood-DreamsByeCameInTrueAWeDreamWouldn’tAndLiveOnlyInTheTruthDreamButWillInMissDreamYou
111
2.
Hey—BabiesTheAreRoofBornMightBaldNotAndFallSeriousInTheyAnythingKnowCouldWhat’sHappenComing
112
3.
Lord,No—CheckIOutWon’t—WhatThereforeI’mINotAmDoing
113
4.
MoneyWeAlwaysForgiveBuysTooYouSoonAAndCheaperForgetClassTooOfLateEnemy
114
5.
TwoTruthsBearMerelyWitnessExchangeToOneTheSetTruth:OfOneShacklesSpeaksForIt,Another;OneNonsenseTurnsSetsAYouDeafFree—EarTruly!
115
6.
WeWeAreKnowAWhatFinalWeDestinationWereThatButHasNotForgottenWhatItsWeJourneyAre
116
7.
MenTheComeGraveAndTooGoYawnsEarthInElidesBoredom
117
8.
...OtherUnquenchableSideGrievingOfOfTheMorning Pillow Rain
118
9.
WeNoResentBabyTooComesHappyLaughingMoreFromThanTheTooWombSad
