December 5, 2012

Tom Holmes

The Invention of Zen

my spear shoots straight
for the deer because I carved
its image in the shaft

when I aim, the spear is here
and there—the deer dead and alive—
and then I release

The Ancient Art of Carrying Anger

When the sun is hot and angry,
I carry a flame
on a stick’s end into the cave.
We crawl to the black lake
in the bottom cavern.

It’s cool here
like the belly of the moon
on a clear night.
We can reflect here.

I work the stick into the shore.
The fire burns at both ends.
The horses gallop across the walls
with bison and reindeer.

The fires meet and extinguish.
There’s nothing but breathing
and the odors of water and sunset.
The edge of the world is like this.


Tom Holmes is the editor of Redactions: Poetry & Poetics and the author of six collections of poetry. His writings about wine, poetry book reviews, and poetry can be found at his blog, The Line Break:

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