I’m reading Paul Zweig. This is the sixth poem in the first section of his Selected and Last Poems, followed by my response. See here for details.
Afraid That I Am Not a Poet
by Paul Zweig
Afraid that I am not a poet,
Yet willing to write
Even about that . . .
[Remainder of poem removed 8-25-05]
* * * *
Ukiyo-E
Outside of a poem, I have never seen
such a seemingly everyday thing as
an empty mirror.
I think of the fear I would feel if
I came face to face with
the absence of myself
& shiver with longing & delight.
Ah, that the mere thought of a thing –
an outline, an image – can open
a window in my chest
& make my tongue dance about
for words!
__________
Ukiyo-e, which refers to a genre of pre-modern Japanese woodblock prints depicting scenes from the demimonde, literally means “Picture(s) of the Floating World.”
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- Them bones
- The pure distance
- Owed
- Becoming grass
- Fuel
- The fears and pleasures
- Written by the vanquished
- Waiting for the detonation
- Green plague
- That great invention
- To greet the quietness
- Advancing into sleepless woods
- How else?
- What remains
- My life as a landlubber
- Perfect night
- Above the ears, below the waist
- In lieu of listening
- Black stone, yellow field
- City of changes
- The fresh chance
- Greek
- Too much
- A beach in hell
- When it breaks
- The burden of becoming human
- Want
- In slough time
- Sacrifice
- Restoring the words
- String theories
- Parcels of pure voice
- An undulant map
- Stone-blue winter
- Foreign matter
- Wake
- Exodus
- Always present
- A sown darkness
- Night
- Woods and water
- Fish tales