“Where is this?” he murmured.

                He thought he sat under an antenna. It was a tree. He thought he was staring at a TV screen. It was the sky. He thought he was in a seat in a theatre. It was the earth. He thought his ears buzzed with static. It was the air.

                “Who’s there?” he said, thinking someone or something was close.

                He closed his eyes. Images, strange and shadowy, began to appear to him, like projections on the backdrop of his eyelids. Suddenly the shadows were part of him. He felt that he belonged in their dark straying. Then there was nothing.

*

The knight woke up alone in the woods…

“These Shadows Remain: A Fable” B.W. Powe, 2011 (Guernica)

Eve’s Flamenco

You take the apple

You taste the apple

You throw the apple away

Adam’s Duende

She dances with the apple

I eat her apple

I follow my paradise

Click in the image

Sierra Morena-Córdoba (España)

Luis asked Why Lorca? Why Antonio Machado?
You’re Canadian after all
We were walking in the valley of the Sierra Morena

Passion I said I love their passion
A lot of hurt Luis said
Hurt?

He clutched his heart
And said
Yes –that is it –

B.W. Powe from an upcoming publication, “Universal Andalusia”

Dear Leonard Cohen
you’re wrong about Lorca
our poet is still alive

but not in New York City
we saw him in Granada
his body is now
where his soul always glowed

on el Paseo de los Tristes

People say they´ve seen an old old man
striking the stones with his cane
in the ancient place the gypsies call
the area of the morning

B.W. Powe from upcoming publication “Universal Andalusia”

This powerful, beautiful, book blends parables, aphorisms, dreams, fantasies, anecdotes, witticisms, puns, vignettes and prose poems in a meditative and often passionate way. It takes the risk of being free in its style and form, to affirm the possibilities of thought, spirit, heart, humour, and imagination. Here B.W. Powe gives us his boldest, most soul-revealing work to date. 

Bless stillness
quiet finer and larger
than my self

Bless the quiet
stilling distraction
mind emptying
turning to sky

Bless darkness
stealing in slowly
embracing me

Bless the gift
of speaking silence

Bless the moment
stillness steadies
like the guiding palm
my naked yearning

Bless sleep
awakening
into the calling
of night

B.W. Powe, from “The Unsaid Passing” (2005 Guernica Editions)

Review in pages 30/31. Click on the image.

May the ability to see many points of view keep us gentle.

May the ability to see a future keep us bold.

May the ability to recognize and reject hard-headed inequities and needless cruelties keep us compassionate and hopeful.

May the ability to perceive patterns that are yet to be fully realized keep us directed in our hearts and minds.

May your heart be touched, don’t let it shrivel or let its beat be diminished: let your heart go unprotected.

May you know how to reposition yourself, and keep the compass of your heart under the stars.

May the ability to communicate and to face facts, and yet to dream new dreams and to imagine fuller lives, give us the sweet strength we need.

“Towards a Canada of Light” BW Powe, 2006

 ISBN 0-88762-228-3