"taub" poems
I.
*“You can only fight the way you practice”
― Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings: The Classic Guide to Strategy*
His lessons started late
As always, and as always
What is thrown is a question
You grip tightly
around your fingers
as one would,
as one always should.
With a branch he beckons:
“Come” he asks,
*“if a stick is struck from this angle,
what would your answer be?”*
Always, the old man taught
With each strike, each parry,
Each disarm and lock,
Each time my knuckles
Would hurt. This way
he makes it sure
that my body
remembers.
This is always
the first step.
My mind might forget.
But the body
Remembers.
II.
*“It is difficult to realize the true Way just through sword-fencing. Know the smallest things and the biggest things, the shallowest things and the deepest things.”
― Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings: Miyamoto Musashi*
With him, everything starts
The vague quality of nonwords
Taught from pain, simplified
Through science:
the fulcrum and the lever.
Each joint, each turn,
a pattern to comprehend,
all things work in context:
*A framework of the undeniable
Fact:*
*the world is separate
In only these two words:*
Taub at Tihaya
The colloquial words for
Face down and face up;
This is a pattern
of the body.
III.
*“If you wish to control others you must first control yourself”
― Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings: The Classic Guide to Strategy*
Tihaya
The lesson starts
When he presses
His thumb forward
to a hand asking for alms
like turning a doorknob
too far to the right.
Taub
when I pull back
four fingers
on a giving hand
too far to what is left.
these are the means
for control.
When I know
How much is necessary
To push or to pull,
To teach or to break.
- 18 October 2017
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 5:57 AM UTC
Ich versuche in Worte zu fassen,
wieso ich ausgerechnet dich
liebe, ich könnte mit deinen Augen
anfangen oder deinem Charakter
oder deinem Lächeln oder deinen
Lippen oder ..., aber es liegt am
Rande des Schwerfallens.
Denn genauso könnte ich versuchen,
zu erklären, wie Wasser schmeckt.
*Doch ich war so lange unter Wasser;
bis ich dich getroffen habe.*
Ja, ich war lange unter Wasser, so
lange, dass ich taub von der Luft
war, vergessen habe, dass Lungen
von jeglicher Bedeutung sind.
Denn du bist mein Rettungsanker.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:18 AM UTC
Haifische schwammen
Schwammen,
schwärmten
In einem Kreis, und gingen
Durcheinander
Wieder und wieder
Und wider meine Angst
Und meinen Willen.
Plötzlich änderte sich alles
Und ich wusste gar nicht mehr
Wo ich stand.
In Wirklichkeit saß ich,
glitt, trieb ich in der Luft oder
zwischen den Etagen.
In dem Boden bewegte
Mein Körper sich.
Du warst nicht da,
aber sie.
Sie manifestierte sich
Im Zimmer vor mir.
Ihr Geist tanzte
Und füllte mich,
Körperlich
Ein.
So schnelle wie
Sie kam, war sie
Wieder auf Einmal
Weg.
Sie fiel weg.
Ich existierte
Und zitierte
Im Dunkeln.
Er machte die Lichter,
die Sonne,
aus
und die Geister,
ihrer,
kamen und
uns fehlten
Die Worte.
Ich kann es nicht
Beschreiben, aber
Ich verlief mich und
Befand mich in einer
Neuen Welt
Füllend und überlaufend
mit ihrer
Stimme.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
so they say
"actions speak louder
than words"
i've been watching your lips move
for some time now,
yet I've been here in silence so long,
I'm beginning to fear I've gone
deaf
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 1:22 AM UTC
imagine you are sick
cold
alone
sitting in a coolish train
lonesome
thinking of your soulmate
somewhere
train departs
scenery flahing by
thoughts flashing by
too numb to cry
ice-cold nausea
smile on the lips
eyes closed
searching for rest
music on
your song playing
promising solace
pulls and drags on my inside
intense
consuming
i'm holding on tight
too numb to cry
searching for rest
smile on the lips
don't want a song
but a warm embrace
too far away
too far
away
and distant
scenery passing by
thoughts passing by
inside passing by
too fast
too agitated
not tangible
elusive
too numb to cry
ice-cold nausea
smile on the lips
far
away
(original: )
stell dir vor du bist krank
kalt
alleine
sitzt in einem unterkühlten zug
einsam
denkst an dein seelengeschwisterkind
irgendwo
zug fährt los
vorbeisausende landschaften
vorbeisausende gedanken
zu taub zum weinen
eiskalte übelkeit
lächeln auf den lippen
augen geschlossen
ruhe suchend
musik an
lied von dir
trost verheißend
zieht und zerrt in mir
heftig
verzehrend
klammere mich fest
zu taub zum weinen
ruhe suchend
lächeln auf den lippen
will kein lied
sondern eine warme umarmung
zu weit weg
zu weit
weg
und fern
vorbeisausende landschaften
vorbeisausende gedanken
vorbeisausendes inneres
zu schnell
zu bewegt
nicht greifbar
flüchtig
zu taub zum weinen
eiskalte übelkeit
lächeln auf den lippen
weit
weg
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
(Song title from B.B. King’s catalogue, by King and Taub)
We argued,
I left and ran for cover,
Hours
Days passed,
Weeks,
Months passed,
Years,
I had vanished I thought,
You found my hideout,
You sent a note,
This is what you wrote,
“I love you, my angel, I love you,
Please hurry home”.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 11:38 AM UTC
PSYCHIC WORLD
Why do people a psychic doubt
Not knowing what he’s about
Is it because they fear?
He’ll tell them that which they want not to hear
Not all psychics are what they claim to be
But they do entertain you for a fee
Then there are those who ARE gifted too
Who will an honest reading do for you.
Your life to you they will unfold
So listen close to what your told,
Some things they say will not seem true
Having been forgotten about by you.
What’s in your future and in your past
Hoping you will get the answers at last
Sometimes you will and sometimes not
Not all is revealed of the things you sought.
The reader will pass on what the spirits reveal
Some things will dismay you while others appeal
The spirits are with you and reveal what you seek
As to you through the psychic they speak.
AS A PSYCHIC I KNOW OF WHAT I SPEAK
R. Taub Oct 23 2011
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
after having slurped such oysters
and mawled such mole-anal
mounds - perfected the steak tartar -
it's almost inconsistent with
the fact that i can:
welcome some sort of civility
in this fragile medium of writing...
i dare say: notably prostitutes -
Puerto Rican, Bulgarian or Ukrainan...
i might as well have
soaked my mouth in a sponge
dipped in olive oil -
and to even think it possible,
having slobbered in these
regions to then pry open an
Augustine repentance -
and claim a god,
having stretched
beyond imagination
the do of invited crude...
to keep a pristine mouth in
both affairs seems contradictory -
i dare say:
no lesser creature is accounted
for, other than in pure jest:
better cloaked...
i can only fathom performing
oral *** on a woman when
first, able, in appreciation
of the fruit of Poseidon -
nice, tacky, it's not a case of
poetic wording,
what, if not the grit of
a hog's snout rummaging in filth?
there is a deep seeded melancholy
in these words...
i am rotating on an axis
of unredeemable consequence...
man the tool use,
woman the floral imbue -
god at best no socio-political ideal -
rather the same stuff of
"encrypted" rudiment;
if i concern myself with god
i concern myself as performing oral
*** on a woman, and her onomatopoeia
resounds deaf in the ears of god,
for my tongue in her... ahem...
is the sort of tongue in the skull
akin to the undifferentiated
claim of animal:
due to ****** man is no more
than a wolf's creed -
talk of man is akin to a cat
purring - while a cat's meow is
man's ****** -
all is well, gott ist taub.
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC