torstai 27. kesäkuuta 2013

Us, the Universe

We are not independent observers,
inside the universe
but separate from it. 
No, we are the universe,
for a moment taking the form
of a sentient being.
When we look around us,
from the grass on the ground
to the stars above
we are looking at ourselves.
When we try to understand
the universe
we are trying
to understand ourselves.

27.06.2013

These are not my own, independent thoughts. Many people have written such things before and although I share this view I express in the poem, I am following a well traveled path.

tiistai 25. kesäkuuta 2013

Keep the night at bay,
even if evening is here
keep the light at the horizon
in your eyes
to the last moment,
don't let the darkness fall,
don't go until
at the last
moment, merging
with the night.

25.06.2013

maanantai 24. kesäkuuta 2013

Even Buddha would have chosen life
if Ãnanda would have understood to ask;
life is more precious
than nirvana. Only when there is
no hope of life
should we set our hopes in peace
beyond it.


24.06.2013
Every breath I take,
every closing
and opening of my eyes
takes me farther away from you.
I don't want to be on this
journey in time,
in this stream of change
flowing away
from that last moment together,
just half an hour before
your world ended
and mine with it.

24.06.2013

sunnuntai 23. kesäkuuta 2013

A sail in the horizon,
white on blue,
a hope escaping
beyond sight.

23.06.2013
On the beach
I followed deep footprints
left in the wet sand
along the shore
and found you
as the high tide came
and wind started
to ruffle the tall grass
growing
on the hillsides.

23.06.2013

lauantai 22. kesäkuuta 2013

Past has become
a land of sorrow,
where memories with thorns
make mind bleed.

Come, say the
memories, touch us
and remember,
touch us and feel the pain.

Images of former happiness
come drifting,
half-sunken hulks
with barnacles of
loss growing on them.

There is no going back,
no rescue, no forgetfulness.

No river Lethe to bring
the bliss of forgetting,
letting the past
sail away on its water.

11.06.-22.06.2013
From the future
we can expect only the harvest
of yesterday's seeds.

22.06.2013
Labyrinth of Life

From the darkness emerges
the bull-head of Minotauros
and you, sword-wielder,
are not the shared son of god
and an Athenian king,
you are not destined to sail
with black sails back to home.
No, whoever was on your side
was not a princess with a ball
of thread, but fear-ruled ran away
leaving you to raise your sword
and shield in a futile gesture
no one shall learn of
when they find your
gnawed bones,
hearing the man-bull
roaring in the darkness.

22.06.2013
One of these days the universe
will assimilate us into itself again;
call it nirvana and be happy
before the unavoidable.

22.06.2013

keskiviikko 19. kesäkuuta 2013

Another day;
how many wandering thoughts
through past, today
and into tomorrow,
drawing blood,
until the calm, soft
summer night
comes to bring
the thoughtless realm of sleep,
it's dark waters,
and peace?

19.06.2013

tiistai 18. kesäkuuta 2013

Seeking redemption
you tend to pass it by
without giving it
a second look.

18.06.2013
Night has fallen,
the birds are still chattering,
chirping, no
end to their territorial tales
in summer's embrace.

18.06.2013

maanantai 17. kesäkuuta 2013

The Evil of Cancer

I read about "the evil of cancer" just now, again,
from a newspaper,
and thought about
my mother, her sister, my paternal grandparents
who all died of cancer.
58, 56, 53, 57.

My paternal grandparents were
in their graves before I was born,
my grandfather a forgotten Don Juan figure
who spread misery and broke marriages,
mostly his own ones;
my grandmother's grave a place of pilgrimage,
dutifully done so that
her ever fewer surviving acquaintances
on their visits to the graveyard
in our old home county
"would see that somebody has been here"
as my father said,
again and again through the decades.

My mother, her sister: Pain and guilt in my mind,
my aunt tied to her eldest son,
my late cousin, 27,
in my thoughts,
rage and grief and more rage in my mind
as I think about them,
and my my mother, my mother
a cause of endless sorrow,
guilt like an open wound
that never can nor should close,
my life one long betrayal of her
during these last 18 years,
all her dreams and hopes unfulfilled,
and I cowardly enough not to be on her side
when it would have mattered.

But the cancers that took them all
were not evil, they just were.
A disease has no mind, no morality,
it doesn't set out to destroy
and end lives like a humans do.
We see it as a kind of human
when we claim that it is evil,
we see it as an adversary
that tries to harm our loved ones
and we are wrong.

We extend humanity out to the world,
give a little piece of Homo Sapies to all things
we see around us,
moral colouring to events
that have none.
A cancer like a tsunami
has no meaning in itself, no goal,
they are just natural results
of events, biological and geological.
It's their results that are tragic,
cutting through lives.

No evil is involved when a submarine
earthquake creates a tsunami,
just geology and chance,
and when cancer attacks a human body
it is the same. It just happens,
beyond the boundaries of the moral universe
we humans have created
and believe in.

The results of cancer are evil to us,
but in itself cancer is just biology,
it just is, separate
from our moral universe,
like the dark matter and dark energy
that guide the physical universe
more than what can be seen.

Like the observable cosmos
which can not influence the dark energy
that is accelerating it's expansion
and taking it towards a premature end -
which to us is also an evil in it's consequences -
a cancer that ravages
our loved ones from the inside
is an evil to us,
but to the universe around us,
to the biological mass living on the surface of Earth
and burrowing under it's surface,
flying high in it's atmosphere,
it just is.
Only us, humans,
can be evil.

17.06.2013

perjantai 14. kesäkuuta 2013

Creatrix

I'm thinking of you again today,
imagining you see the same rain,
hear the same hammering on the roof
as I do, look outside and see
the landscape in all the shades of green
like I do, that you breath like I do,
make coffee, read some cheap
romance novel or one of the historical
novels that I bought you, never
finishing the series about Egypt
which I regret everytime I remember
them; you wanted hardcovers and
I bought one paperback after the
hardbacks and never more, and
it was a betrayal, one of those
little betrayals that grew into the
great betrayal, and ever since you
died I have understood well what
I always found odd, Robert E.
Howard's suicide. I read yesterday
about re-prints of Valérian and Laureline comics,
remembered  how you liked them,
how I liked them and now can't think of
them separately from you. You gave me
the love of reading, love of speculative
and all I gave you was disappointments
and not enough of my time. I thought
there would be, but then there was none
and even then I did not understand
to spend every minute I could
beside your bed. It was a debt I owed,
like the fulfillment of your dreams
about what I would become that I owed
and I betrayed you, betrayed you so
many times, you who carried me
nine months in you womb and
thirty-two years, four months, one day
and seven hours afterwards.

14.06.2013

torstai 13. kesäkuuta 2013

A winter morning,
darkness beyond the windows,
thoughts heavy with
the lingering images
from the dream
- black fields
under a black sky,
with glinting snowflakes falling,
big and sharp,
made of steel,
drawing blood
as they hit the skin.

13.06.2013
‘Evening Snow at Edo River'(1932) by Hasui Kawase(1883-1957)

Two women in kimonos,
holding umbrellas,
are crossing a wooden bridge
as snow falls.

The sky is dark blue.
We don't see any clouds.
Under the bridge
the water is also dark blue.

In distant Manchuria,
Japanese armies were
putting Puyi on
the throne Manchukuo,
the Empire was marching
to it's defeat through
yet another victory.

13.06.2013
Adriatic Sea, 25 years ago

The sea is
so blue in my memory,
reaching out from the bay,
opening,
merging with the sky
in the horizon.
So blue that
I have to wonder
was it really so
or is my mind
re-colouring my memories
liberally?

13.06.2013
A Memory

People making their way on a
wooden bridge over a river,
a boat passing below
with a solitary figure
standing on it's stern.
Words written beside them
in a blank ink,
flowing.

Was it Bashõ's poem
on the opposite page?
It must have been -
what else would I
have been reading then?

The picture a wood print of Edo,
a hundred years
after his time, perhaps,
the calligraphy
nothing to do with him,
closed from me
who only saw
Bashõ's poem in it.

13.06.201
Truth is not a labyrinth,
it is lies that lead you around
and around without a way out.

13.06.2013
Biography

A bit of honesty now and then
makes a good story
even better.

13.06.2013
A Picture I Once Saw

Autumn,
orange, yellow 
and red leaves
falling in the mountains,
fog hiding
the valley below
to where
this stream runs,
fast and  clear
over the small rocks
it's water
patiently sculpts.

13.06.2013

keskiviikko 12. kesäkuuta 2013

A King's Tale, circa 1600 BCE

Lord of the Two Lands,
He who is established by Re,
Semenre,
reigning in Thebes.

Of his rule remains
a mention in the Turin Canon
and an axe with his name
written on it.

12.06.2013

maanantai 10. kesäkuuta 2013

In memory of Iain Banks(1954-2013)

No paradise waiting, no resurrection, no rebirth
from old rattling bones life arising
or from new womb old sould finding refuge.
No, just the end, darkness and
Void like none between the stars.
There's no mercy that we don't create ourselves,
there's no life but this in blood and flesh and bone
spending fleeting decades in wonder
looking around and up on this speck of dust
wandering in the Cosmic night,
asking questions, telling stories,
keeping the Void at bay until we can no more.

10.06.2013

sunnuntai 9. kesäkuuta 2013

If you wait life
to open it's gate
before you
letting you on it's path,
the years will go on
as you stand before
an unlocked gate.

09.06.2013
Hours and days
slip away
- if only
the past they become
would slip away
too, like
a sammon
in the river of time,
traveling ever farther
from the angling mind.

09.06.2013


Leader of the Free World

How many times you Yankees shouted that
during the Cold War, giddily
worshipping your presidents
and what they supposedly embodied,
and now, my dear Americans,
with PRISM, with Boundless Informant,
your super-Stasi NSA,
it's clear that those who
had been following your leaders,
who were forced to do so
by our weakling governments,
were led to a cage
with glass walls
and the million employees of your sixteen secret services
are standing behind those walls,
repeating to you, their "fellow Americans"
that they are doing this
only to "foreigners", us.
Perhaps it hides the glass walls of your own cages.

09.06.2013

perjantai 7. kesäkuuta 2013

Langdon Warner(1881-1955) in Dunhuang

Arriving late,
he had no manuscripts to buy for a pittance
from an old Daoist,
so he hacked off what murals he could,
took a couple of statues as an extra
and announced
the imminent destruction of the rest
to sooth his conscience
and shield his reputation.

United States had come late
to the Caves of the Thousand Buddhas,
but had still it's share
of empty holes in frescoes
to remind people of it's visit.

07.06.2013

maanantai 3. kesäkuuta 2013

Past is the canvas
on which we paint
our regrets, our dreams
of a life that
could have been,
that should have been.

Future, we know,
will bring disappointment,
crush what is
left of us, throwing
us away, into
the arms of the past.

03.06.2013

sunnuntai 2. kesäkuuta 2013

I was a question you never could solve,
the one which defied all logic
and you never risked all
on a leap of faith,
always being the careful one,
aware of how badly these kind of stories
tend to end in the real life.
So you went away,
cutting your losses,
and I let you go
without pleading,
always the one who
to the last moment believes
that the other one will turn around,
and will come back
without a need for an emotional scene.

02.06.2013