blue grey dust of a heron
released out of the trees.
So the dialogue slides
nothing more than friendship
an old song we break into
not needing all the words.
We are past naming the country.
The reflections are never there
without us, without the exhaustion
of water and trees after storm.
BREEZE
for
BP
Nichol
Nowadays I listen only to duets.
Johnny Hodges and The Bean, a thin slip
of piano behind them
on this page on this stage
craft a breeze in a horn.
One friend sits back and listens
to the other. Nowadays
I want only the wild and tender
phrasing of “NightHawk,”
its air groaned out
like the breath of a lover.
Rashomon by Saxophone.
So brother and sister woke, miles apart,
in those 19th century novels you loved,
with the same wound or desire.
We sit down to clean and sharpen
the other’s most personal lines
—a proposal of more, a waving dismissal
of whole stanzas—in Lethbridge in Edmonton
you stood with the breeze
in an uncomfortable Chinese restaurant
in Camrose, getting a second cup
at The Second Cup near Spadina.
I almost called you this morning
for a phone number.
Records I haven’t yet returned.
Tapes you were supposed to make for me.
And across the country
tears about your death.
I always thought
, someone says,
he was very good for you
.
Though I still like, Barrie,
the friends who are not good for me.
Along the highway
only the duets and wind fill up my car.
I saw the scar of the jet that Sunday
trying to get you out of the sky.
Ben Webster, Coleman Hawkins.
An A and an H, a bean and a breeze.
All these twin truths
There is bright sumac, once more,
this September, along the Bayview Extension
From now on
no more solos
I tie you to me
A note on the poems
The Cinnamon Peeler
contains poems that cover a twenty-five year period. They are poems that were written alongside and between other longer works such as
The Collected Works of Billy the Kid, Coming Through Slaughter, Running in the Family
, and
In the Skin of a Lion
. They cover the period from 1963, when I first started to write, to 1990.
Elimination Dance
, which turns up here as an intermission, is a sort of rogue-troubadour poem that seems continually to change—a few lines get dropped and a few get added every year. It is based on those horrendous dances where a caller decides, seemingly randomly, who should not be allowed to continue dancing. So the piece (I still hesitate to call it a poem) is in the voice of a mad, and totally beyond-the-pale, announcer.
Two poems in
Secular Love
, ‘The River Neighbour’ and ‘Pacific Letter’, are based on the Rihaku-Tu Fu-Ezra Pound poems. They are not so much translations as re-locations into my landscape, with a few lines by the earlier poets making their appearance in my poem.
Most of these poems were written in Canada. A few were written in Sri Lanka. Tin Roof was written in Hawaii.
Trick with a Knife
was dedicated to Kim and Quintin and Griffin. And
Secular Love
was dedicated to Linda.
MICHAEL ONDAATJE
Michael Ondaatje
The Cinnamon Peeler
Michael Ondaatje is a novelist and poet who lives in Toronto, Canada. He is the author of
The English Patient, In the Skin of a Lion, Coming Through Slaughter
, and
The Collected Works of Billy the Kid;
two other collections of poems,
Secular Love
and
There’s a Trick with a Knife I’m Learning to Do;
and a memoir,
Running in the Family
. He received the Booker Prize for
The English Patient
.
BOOKS BY Michael Ondaatje
PROSE
The English Patient
1992
In the Skin of a Lion
1987
Running in the Family
(memoir)
1982
Coming Through Slaughter
1976
The Collected Works of Billy the Kid
1970
POETRY
The Cinnamon Peeler: Selected Poems
1991
Secular Love
1984
There’s a Trick with a Knife
I’m Learning to Do: Poems 1963–1978
1979
ALSO BY M ICHAEL O NDAATJE
HANDWRITING
Poems
Handwriting
is Michael Ondaatje’s first new book of poetry since
The Cinnamon Peeler
. It is a collection of
released out of the trees.
So the dialogue slides
nothing more than friendship
an old song we break into
not needing all the words.
We are past naming the country.
The reflections are never there
without us, without the exhaustion
of water and trees after storm.
BREEZE
for
BP
Nichol
Nowadays I listen only to duets.
Johnny Hodges and The Bean, a thin slip
of piano behind them
on this page on this stage
craft a breeze in a horn.
One friend sits back and listens
to the other. Nowadays
I want only the wild and tender
phrasing of “NightHawk,”
its air groaned out
like the breath of a lover.
Rashomon by Saxophone.
So brother and sister woke, miles apart,
in those 19th century novels you loved,
with the same wound or desire.
We sit down to clean and sharpen
the other’s most personal lines
—a proposal of more, a waving dismissal
of whole stanzas—in Lethbridge in Edmonton
you stood with the breeze
in an uncomfortable Chinese restaurant
in Camrose, getting a second cup
at The Second Cup near Spadina.
I almost called you this morning
for a phone number.
Records I haven’t yet returned.
Tapes you were supposed to make for me.
And across the country
tears about your death.
I always thought
, someone says,
he was very good for you
.
Though I still like, Barrie,
the friends who are not good for me.
Along the highway
only the duets and wind fill up my car.
I saw the scar of the jet that Sunday
trying to get you out of the sky.
Ben Webster, Coleman Hawkins.
An A and an H, a bean and a breeze.
All these twin truths
There is bright sumac, once more,
this September, along the Bayview Extension
From now on
no more solos
I tie you to me
A note on the poems
The Cinnamon Peeler
contains poems that cover a twenty-five year period. They are poems that were written alongside and between other longer works such as
The Collected Works of Billy the Kid, Coming Through Slaughter, Running in the Family
, and
In the Skin of a Lion
. They cover the period from 1963, when I first started to write, to 1990.
Elimination Dance
, which turns up here as an intermission, is a sort of rogue-troubadour poem that seems continually to change—a few lines get dropped and a few get added every year. It is based on those horrendous dances where a caller decides, seemingly randomly, who should not be allowed to continue dancing. So the piece (I still hesitate to call it a poem) is in the voice of a mad, and totally beyond-the-pale, announcer.
Two poems in
Secular Love
, ‘The River Neighbour’ and ‘Pacific Letter’, are based on the Rihaku-Tu Fu-Ezra Pound poems. They are not so much translations as re-locations into my landscape, with a few lines by the earlier poets making their appearance in my poem.
Most of these poems were written in Canada. A few were written in Sri Lanka. Tin Roof was written in Hawaii.
Trick with a Knife
was dedicated to Kim and Quintin and Griffin. And
Secular Love
was dedicated to Linda.
MICHAEL ONDAATJE
Michael Ondaatje
The Cinnamon Peeler
Michael Ondaatje is a novelist and poet who lives in Toronto, Canada. He is the author of
The English Patient, In the Skin of a Lion, Coming Through Slaughter
, and
The Collected Works of Billy the Kid;
two other collections of poems,
Secular Love
and
There’s a Trick with a Knife I’m Learning to Do;
and a memoir,
Running in the Family
. He received the Booker Prize for
The English Patient
.
BOOKS BY Michael Ondaatje
PROSE
The English Patient
1992
In the Skin of a Lion
1987
Running in the Family
(memoir)
1982
Coming Through Slaughter
1976
The Collected Works of Billy the Kid
1970
POETRY
The Cinnamon Peeler: Selected Poems
1991
Secular Love
1984
There’s a Trick with a Knife
I’m Learning to Do: Poems 1963–1978
1979
ALSO BY M ICHAEL O NDAATJE
HANDWRITING
Poems
Handwriting
is Michael Ondaatje’s first new book of poetry since
The Cinnamon Peeler
. It is a collection of
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