...AND THEN TIME MOVES

The tattooed man struck her as ominous
When she first saw him naked. But his face,
Wet from the pool, seemed open as his hands.
She scanned him for that quality that glows
From inside, and believed it there. His blue
Eyes didn’t hurt. She watched close for what moves.

Beauty seems a firm first basis, and moves
us in lieu of facts. Some call this ominous.
Nonetheless, her mood would shift the lights to blue
If she should pass a day without his face
Turned to hers. Anything that hums and glows
Needs tending. Soon this duty filled his hands.

He’d always had some task to suit his hands,
But he was used to wood, not clay that moves.
He’d shape her in ways that, sometimes, glow
And sometimes throw a shadow, ominous.
He’d read few books, and could not read her face.
He’d babble with no clue till his turned blue.

Her righteousness bewildered him. Soon blue
Became the shade of all his days. His hands
Strayed to more pliant subjects. Soon his face
Spoke fluently to her, and she made moves
That anyone could read as ominous.
Still he was startled, flushed with rage that glows.

Some men can’t see what, to some others, glows,
She found a substitute to light her blue
Flame, who bore a resemblance ominous
That she did not see. She fit in his hands.
Meanwhile, her “old man” wondered if his moves
Had failed him. With age, pain showed in his face.

Things occurred to him – hard for a man to face.
His inked skin was a warning sign that glows.
At his age, he could not count on old moves
That long ago could turn her music blue.
He had a problem in his empty hands.
The situation seemed quite ominous.

Ominous indeed. We see just the face
We first find in our hands. Eyes open, glow
Blue – we believe their light. And then time moves.


-- © 2009 by Jack Veasey

All rights reserved. This work may not be duplicated or reproduced in any way without the author's written permission.


The above poem is a sestina. It's probably the hardest poetry form, and I've made several failed attempts to write one over my thirty-some years as a poet. This is the first one that's worked.

The form uses six words to end its lines, which in this case are "ominous," "face," "hands," "glows," blue," and "moves." The first six stanzas each have six lines, and the end words fall into a prescribed pattern -- for instance, the last end word in each stanza becomes the first end word in the next. All six end words then appear in their original order in the final three-line stanza. Then you down six shots of Jim Beam, scream into a pillow for six minutes, and hibernate for six months. (Just kidding!)

When it works, you have a hypnotic, beautiful poem. But you have to be REALLY careful to pick six words that bear that much repeating.

THE MARK OF KUAN YIN

THE MARK OF KUAN YIN


She sits like moonlight on the lotus leaves
As they float on the pond. She has no weight –
How heavy can a vision be? Her fate
Was not determined when the king sent thieves

To cut her down. Her spirit, some believe,
Stayed here, caught by the cries of throngs whose great
Grief her care now relieves. She brings a state
Of grace, they say; delusions can’t deceive

Her devotees. Her robe is white. Her mind
Is clear, so she has clarity to spare.
Awake to her, and she can guide you where

No hurt is left, and everyone is kind.
Take this last pain – tattoo her image there.
Commit to an eternal love affair.

--© 2009 by Jack Veasey

All rights reserved. This work may not be reproduced or duplicated without the author's written permission.

This sonnet was inspired when I saw a roughly 7½-minute clip from the TV show “Miami Ink,” depicting a young man of Indonesian descent receiving an elaborate and beautiful tattoo of Kuan Yin on his back. Kuan Yin, for those who don’t know, is the Chinese Buddhist goddess of mercy. Legendary for her apparitions and known for healing and protective miracles, she is to the Chinese what the Virgin Mary is to Catholics. Her name is also spelled Kwan Yin and Quanyin.

The young man got the tattoo in honor of important women in his life, including his mother, who he says “gave up my soul to Kuan Yin” when he was born. Interestingly, the well-known tattoo artist seems to know a good bit about Kuan Yin. Perhaps not surprising, because Kuan Yin is the second most frequently depicted figure in Asian art, after the Buddha.

From the poster of the video, who calls himself jjll2006 on Youtube:
"This is a clip from the episode ‘Nobody likes a quitter’. I was lucky enough to have none other than Chris Garver tattoo a Kwan Yin on my back. This is my episode and story.”

I wanted to post the video itself here, but the user has removed it from Youtube and all other places where it was posted on the internet.

For more information on Kuan Yin, see my lecture/blog about her, posted on Eons two years ago:
http://www.eons.com/blogs/entry/75264-Kuan-Yin-My-Buddhist-Patron-Saint

I manage an internet group for Kuan Yin devotees at http://www.eons.com/groups/group/the-chapel-of-kuan-yin