nyc in 1838

K. Wayne Thornley
I thought I heard my woman cry, but no, it was the dogs of my heart.Â
A hard night and a hard day. The mass was in Latin,Â
And was hollow in the way that the wind is sometimes hollow,Â
And for a moment I was a boy again.Â
The moment passed, leaving me as empty as ever.Â
The jigsaw puzzle of this life has always lacked some key pieces.Â
There was never a shallow end in this pool,Â
And there was never a lifeguard. Swim at your own damn risk.Â
The weather was turning cold, geese flew overhead,Â
And above them were the damned airplanes.Â
The street was completely empty, there was no one there but me.Â
I wanted to weep and rend my garment, but I had no reason.Â
When I walked my footsteps seemed loud and cruel,Â
Like hammers on steel. I thought I heard my woman cry,Â
But no, it wasn't her. It was the dogs of my heart.
james lee jobe

artist unknownÂ
it is 1838
it is early when we go to bed and thenÂ
we are dreaming. we are in new york city,Â
walking through a huge library that is likeÂ
a confusing maze. we are going downÂ
steps that are so small that we areÂ
almost stumbling. we need a particularÂ
book from 1838 that no one wants usÂ
to have. people trick us, and createÂ
false clues for us to follow. time passes.Â
and when, during the search, we are aloneÂ
in secret moments, we kiss in the shadows.Â
passion. love. we find a map of new yorkÂ
from 1838, and now we are steppingÂ
into the map. we are symbols of usÂ
moving down long lines labeledÂ
broadway and chatham and whitehall.Â
we are holding hands and there is noÂ
end to this in sight. we wake up.Â
it is midnight, exactly. we make some
tea and sit down to write a poem.Â
james lee jobeÂ

K. Wayne Thornley
The Buddha is here, there, and everywhere.
B. D. Schiers
Since the time we were born from our mother's womb, the only thing we have seen is the present. We have never seen the past and we have never seen the future. Wherever we are, whatever time it is, it is only the present.
Khenpo Tsultrim Rinpoche

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