The Sunday Poem: James C. Burbank... Lamentation for the Body

How can a lamentation be so intriguing! This short piece ends with two of the more memorable lines in the English language. This a perfect Sunday morning poem.

Poet, erstwhile musician, writer, teacher, art guy, and Nob Hill denizen, I've been here since '81. I am a confirmed unbeatnik and Valley Rat. Write a poem a day, sing or play a little flute, or a nose whistle, talk to the river and the trees. Always say Good Morning.

Lamentation for the Body:

the lush hair

the Asian secret

that seems

a fiction where no

one ever dies

where there is an eternal

tree that burns and from

which a voice crackles

in the night

Everything you need is

here, Don’t search elsewhere

for the ever present.

--James C. Burbank

Poetry submissions are welcome. Email The whole Sunday Poem series is available from the front page of the DCF by clicking on The DitchRider in the left-hand sidebar. Poems early in the series are archived under "previous post" at the bottom of The DitchRider blog.

Views: 30

Comment by Margaret Randall on February 21, 2010 at 8:26am
"The Asian secret / that seems / a fiction where no / one ever dies"-great lines in a beautiful poem. Thank you.
Comment by cc on February 21, 2010 at 9:05am
Yes, perfect for Sunday morn. Thanks DitchRider and Jim Burbank!
Comment by cathyray on February 21, 2010 at 10:54am
another wowie Sunday morning! I try to remind myself daily that I already have everything I need.
Comment by Ron Da Bomb on February 21, 2010 at 11:23am
Lovely. I enjoyed that.
Comment by Barelas Babe on February 21, 2010 at 4:19pm
A beautiful reminder of the connection between regrets and desiring. Thank you for these words.
Comment by Rich Boucher on February 23, 2010 at 11:25am
Well done.
Comment by Merimee Moffitt on February 25, 2010 at 6:52am
Sweet! Thanks, Jim, for the wake up nicely poem.
Comment by Justin Engel on February 25, 2010 at 9:02pm
Thanks Jim, I think we need to hear those last 2 lines every morning. It's a real pleasure to know you.
Comment by lisa gill on February 26, 2010 at 10:53am
The last lines echo one of my most favorite cummings poems, which runs something like this, "seeker of truth/follow no path/ all paths lead/ where truth is here..."



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