Haiku #10 Empty Form

Form is emptiness, emptiness is form . . Black ink form suddenly emergent Creates space out of that white which is not the form Turning nothing into a something which is still not anything yet vivid . . La forma de tinta negra emerge repentinamente Crea espacio a partir de ese blanco que no esContinue reading “Haiku #10 Empty Form”

A spontaneously composed poem is…

Spontaneous poem is like Brushstroke journey One moment following into the next black ink on white paper shape out of the formless punctuation for the sheer hell of it … Even a pause is continuation of the flowering … Even silence speaks…. … And then off we go again Sometimes soaring into rarified alpine airsContinue reading “A spontaneously composed poem is…”