Tag Archives: Isamu Noguchi
Sculpture Garden Cinquain
Tonight Noguchi saves all of us from those fears we nourish in our souls before morning.
Filed under Day Poems, Morning Poems, Night Poems
Earth by April in January
Poems get written today using the same object as those she created 30 years ago. Obsession of a fickle mind, so many others have been targeted in between. Some even still live. She’s becoming entangled in her homespun loop. Time … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems, Overnight Poems
Pacific Saudade
This Noguchi sculpture encased in glass on the departures level inside the San Francisco Airport soothes my incurable longing for what those Big Sur rocks would not release. That he could have been my soul mate doesn’t matter—he’s been gone … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Letter in a Mirror
“Tainted Love” won’t hit you the way it did in 1982 when you came late to Studio 54. Always arriving early, you miss being the impact. Pregnant new wave singers, punk ones already overdosed, your phobia keeps you clean. You … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Living Tower
Even if it was an option, it’s not an option to date your guardian angel, even an accidental one. You may believe you’ve exhausted them all, been pushed to the edge of the jetty—rocks everywhere sounding off a raucous laugh. … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Illumination Night
Summer ignites itself Methodist style. Japanese paper lanterns Noguchi might have made for Martha Graham’s last dance alight the campgrounds, set the island aglow in pinks, oranges, yellows, fire-engine red awash. A crowd gathers to mingle, a child may wander … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
