Ocular Migraine

OCULAR MIGRAINE

I heard a headache

Hammering away.

Heavy blows broke off

Block fragments.

Tiny chips scattered,

Peas bouncing away.

Blast set off so loud

I was deafened

By noonday light

Flashing front, center,

Right, left.

Beans rebounded

Inside my skull.

Ball bearings spiraled

Round and round

Inside walls

Of a bowl,

Spinning coin

Settling

Down, rattling.

Now I am

Partially

Blind in

One

Eye.

Originally published in The Penmen Review (May 6, 2016)

I heard a headache hammering away...

I seek the silence....

I seek the silence…

I seek the silence of a secluded lake,

Of a moment in time

When the past is suspended,

Of a mountain valley,

Mists sweeping by,

Where travelers rest and look,

Do nothing more,

Of a sanctuary

Bounded by orotund hills—a body asleep,

Caressed by moist winds,

A world in repose breathing deeply,

A place where solitude refreshes,

The likeness of eons uncountable ago:

The seventh day.

Originally published in Thought Notebook: Anatomy of Illumination (Issue 5), page 71

Asleep on My Shoulder (2007) by Nicola Beattie

Batanes

BATANES

I am a traveler

In my heart

To a place of sky and sea—

A sky so pure,

Deepest blue,

Sea, same color

As the sky—

Not so distant

As the farthest reaches

Of the earth or so

Inaccessible, yet

Sufficiently remote

So that solitude

Is a lone bird

Hovering

And silence

Is the expanse

Between two gray islands

Barely visible

As you stand

Atop a cliff

Dropping steeply

Down to shore.

Breakers whisper

As I breathe in sweet air.

Inhaling to my fill,

I lose all appetite

And dine on the wind.

No longer corporeal,

I am a subsistent soul.
  

Mount Iraya, Batanes, Philippines

Two Solitude Poems

SOLITUDE

If a jar of wine is left in place a long time, the wine in it becomes clear, settled, and fragrant. …So you, too, should stay in the same place and you will find how greatly this benefits you.—Evagrius Ponticus, Philokalia

Solitude has come to roost on the window sill.

Flapping his wings, he alights,

Tilts his head slightly, left, right,

Looking inward, studying the past,

Investigating experience,

Peering at conscience,

Surveying the world.

Peripatetic, he asks the eternal questions.

Thoughts stream in as shafts of light between

Trees standing among truths freckled by shadows.

Answers, always partial

Always come,

Sparkling in a box of stars

Or glowing like the moon.

He attains a brook, freshly, soundlessly flowing

Uphill, roundly wholesome, utterly speckless,

Nestled atop high inaccessible

Mountain reaches. Glassfuls of water

Bring not forgetting but understanding,

Memories revolving slowly,

Uncanny clarity of a magical goblet,

Bestowing peace, oil poured into wounds.

Solitude is a healer…

Solitude is a healer of memories.

Gently, he rubs liniment on bruises inflicted

By verbal assaults, sharp words.

Cooling menthol soothes and spreads.

Three Coffee Poems

COFFEE

Coffee is a brown man

Made from soil,

Pressed into shape,

Fired shiny,

Waxen as a lizard,

Hat white like dried-out shells,

Pulling at reins of a rearing horse,

Hooves sharp as pickaxes

Kicking up bright clouds of lime.

Dark and fragrant visitor,

He makes his diffident presence felt:

Memories of fresh bread,

Woody nuts,

Heady camphor.

They lighten

Slumbering burdens,

Heavy luggage hauled about

By traveling sleepwalkers.

Swinging open the cabinet,

He hands out syrups to sweeten

Unfulfilled dreams,

Hot poultices to soothe

Unforgotten nightmares,

Tonics for the family,

Ointments for friends,

Infusions for the jaded,

Bandages for the heart.

Sweet fragrant coffee…

Sweet fragrant coffee, you fill me with delight,

You sharpen my hearing, focus my sight,

Waken taste and smell with rich, deep notes…

You waft restful draughts, quell restive seas,

Water vineyards and groves, hoe fruit-bearing trees,

Build sturdy safe homes, tidy cities on the plain,

Turn denizens to work for prosperous gain,

Hoist snappy white sails, launch fresh-painted boats…

You uplift my heart, quicken my feeling!

Just do not invade my sleep and dreaming.

I like my coffee hot and black...

I like my coffee hot and black—

hot hornet stings,

black squid ink—

heady broth of

bitter cumin,

red pine smoke,

dusky forests,

blue lightning.

Coffee, nectar of the gods