Zen and the Art of Smelly Sock Placement

It isn’t just that among the tulips, the matching
Napkins and scented candles, the wedding
China and newly shined floors, I left
Yesterday’s socks in my fancy artwork bowl.
Or even that in all the conversation amongst
Crystal and wine, silk frocks and fine
Cuisines, the subject of clothing and feet
Never once arose. Invite your guests
With care, my friend, but even this moral,
Howsoever neat, is not the regenerative end
Of this Easter tale. I’m hardly a novice at
The epic fail, but I’ll tell you this: if you arrange
Your evening like a still-life, every spoon
And plate, cushion and salad fork and knife
In intimate accord almost musical, the memento
Mori that keeps it real is, of all things beautiful
And true, the most brutally essential.


Courage #9 – Still Life: A lockdown poem

The trick lies in the highlights
You set them in strong. Pure
Dazzling bright whites. To shoulder
The weight of the darks. Take care
To register what you see only. Not
What you know is there. The shape
Of all seen through each, shapes
The sense of all.
Stillness lies in the eye of the beholder.
Things move apart to come together again.
The beauty is all in the transitions
The glow the shimmer the shine the glitter
The overlay of time on space. And when
Memory is all there is to work from
There is still life still colour still observance
Still courage in grace.