IT IS BETTER TO HAVE A BIRD IN THE HAND
THAN A VULTURE IN THE WIND
-Only together do we exist.
-Only together will we form a whole.
-Who am I?
A bee trapped in between curtain and glass?
A fence with thirty crows standing on thirty posts?
A mountain with a Bison scar?
A hummingbird standing still on a magic saddle?
The quietness of an afternoon storm?
The sensation of the sprouting of some horns?
-Life and death; Man and Woman.
Weak and strong; high and low.
Happy and sad.
Black, White; all colors and words
All feelings; all space
As The Great Blafigria says.
It was called "between Yin and Yang"
Embraced in a dream of poultry
In which, when they woke up
Yin told Yang:
-It is better to have my bird in my hand
That let it go to your vulture
a walking fucking
a powerful bird
a “guru” for a while
but one that can kill my bird.
-Well, fuck yourself, nice.
Yin let go of Yang
Remorseful and crestfallen, singing:
"My bird went to your sea.
Clam went to look for it."
Many seeds fell from Yin's and Yang’s hands
Many grew and many died
Dancing and singing
With the Sun and the Wind.
WALT WHITMAN PURSUING BEAUTY
( On his 200th Anniversary )
His Biosphere, his Biorealm, his Bioprovince
His Bioregion, his Biolocale
Beat plunged humming “Leaves of Grass”
Through drunken twisted paths
Stumbling pleasures and thinking about
The quality of being different
Just talking from experience
Tracing the tread of our heads
Into a web and so mysterious and clear.
Despite the Presbyterian pastor’s words
Saying with envy and burr:
- Walt is a Freeroamer of Love
Who has converted the Locust Grove School
In a School of Sodom
Or John Peter Lesley, geologist:
-Walt is a “pretencious gil”
And his Leaves of Grass
is “profane and obscene trash”
Walt and his Leaves of Grass
Still are a promise and a delight.
We’ve been thinking about his offer
And the answer is a strong tentative yes.
I love it:
His new possible consciousness of the Earth
Filled with demons – making scenes
Of Love and Freedom
Wasting what he has given to You and me:
Leaves of Grass
And its natural science: that the Earth
Is the center of attention
Not another’s manipulation of it.
It is a lovely pamphlet of possible Life.
Walt, You’re an acorus calamus
I love You.
(Photo by Isa)
The branches of the trees
on the river road with luminous clouds
more a chair without seed and hands
that yearn for eyes.
Ghost of wo/man’s presence/absence
is what makes this place
© Daniel de Culla
Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet and photographer. He is a member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, and other groups. He is director of the Gallo Tricolor Review and the Robespierre Review. He has participated in many festivals of poetry and of theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Geneva. He has exhibited in many galleries including Madrid, Burgos, London and Amsterdam. He moves between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: email@example.com