{"id":323,"date":"2018-09-04T00:38:33","date_gmt":"2018-09-04T00:38:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/?p=323"},"modified":"2018-07-31T00:43:23","modified_gmt":"2018-07-31T00:43:23","slug":"two-poems-by-robert-okaji","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/2018\/09\/04\/two-poems-by-robert-okaji\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry by Robert Okaji"},"content":{"rendered":"<h6 style=\"padding-left: 30px;\"><em>Robert Okaji lives in Texas. His favorite knife is Japanese, as is his tractor. His guitar is Italian. He&#8217;s sure this signifies something to someone. The author of five chapbooks, his work has appeared or is forthcoming in Riggwelter, Sleet, Eclectica, The Zen Space and elsewhere.<\/em><\/h6>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h3>Worms<\/h3>\n<p>Yesterday&#8217;s cored apple buzzes with light,<br \/>\nanother vessel stored in sadness.<\/p>\n<p>I have swallowed vows.<\/p>\n<p>I have replaced air with earth<br \/>\nand enjoyed tongued flesh.<\/p>\n<p>To think is to live. To live is to delay.<\/p>\n<p>Burrowing through the soil&#8217;s rich<br \/>\ndecay, this body,<\/p>\n<p>accepted. Absorbed.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h3>Self-Portrait as Question<\/h3>\n<p>Walking hand-in-hand with what,<br \/>\nwho presupposes why, and when<br \/>\nhuddles with where before skittering<br \/>\noff to its murky corner. Sometimes<br \/>\nI present myself as a shy minute<br \/>\nor a cloud&#8217;s effigy streaming across<br \/>\na scruffy field. Few suspect the truth.<br \/>\nAnswers ricochet from the limestone<br \/>\nwall, but no one nabs them. I react<br \/>\nquickly and offer the unknown, the<br \/>\nlife I claim, my name, in return.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h3>Love Song for the Dandelion<\/h3>\n<p>When you scatter<br \/>\nI gasp<\/p>\n<p>aware that the windborne<br \/>\ncarry truths<\/p>\n<p>too powerful to breathe<br \/>\ntoo perfect<br \/>\nto bear<\/p>\n<p>What is your name<br \/>\nI ask<\/p>\n<p>knowing the answer<br \/>\nall along<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h3>Pinecone on a Pedestal, Open Poet<\/h3>\n<p>Look deeper. Within that grain, a mineral,<br \/>\ninside that word, a book<br \/>\nfolding into itself,<br \/>\nleaf by leaf,<\/p>\n<p>and farther back,<br \/>\nthe cone\u2019s imbricated scales<br \/>\nspiraling in perfect<br \/>\nsequence, or pressed<br \/>\nthrough another<br \/>\ntime, strand by<br \/>\nstrand, looming<br \/>\nin shared<br \/>\nsimplicity.<\/p>\n<p>Looking through my window I see a hundred trees<br \/>\ngrowing in the shade of one.<\/p>\n<p>The juniper\u2019s<br \/>\nberry is<br \/>\nno berry.<\/p>\n<p>Bamboo is a grass.<\/p>\n<p>My floor<br \/>\nis not cork<br \/>\nbut bears its appearance.<\/p>\n<p>Two halves share this one body.<br \/>\nOpen it. What will you find?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Robert Okaji lives in Texas. His favorite knife is Japanese, as is his tractor. His guitar is Italian. He&#8217;s sure this signifies something to someone. The author of five chapbooks, his work has appeared or is forthcoming in Riggwelter, Sleet, Eclectica, The Zen Space and elsewhere. &nbsp; Worms Yesterday&#8217;s cored apple buzzes with light, another &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/2018\/09\/04\/two-poems-by-robert-okaji\/\" class=\"excerpt-link\">Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-323","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pa867U-5d","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/323","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=323"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/323\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":326,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/323\/revisions\/326"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=323"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=323"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=323"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}