Directions

Creation is the opposite of

Destruction.

I wave my hand

in a certain direction

and create

Havoc or Hope

it makes

sense further away...

As far as I could see,

All that can be

Destroyed

was never meant to remain

the same

Goes

for Us

Undoing

what is Done. 

Painting by Edvard Munch (1863-1944), 'Woman in White Sitting on a Bench' c. 1906-1907, in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Brewing

One would easily conclude
that she was in fact,
a witch.

It was not the time,
nor her spelling,
she did not wield a broom
or don a pointed
hat
and yet
we forget
the difference between legend
and lore
we pretend not to see
so we may forget
why we hide
(this information)
or face
persecution.

The insolent one stays inside the lines,
obeys or Believes
that there is a difference between magic
and living, despite
the few that knew
what they have seen or felt
and hid their skeletons
behind the cross.

The witch files her nails
and emits wisps of smoke,
she ruffles through the leaves
for a recipe to reverse
the ingested poison
and faith
found her
scratching the margins,
filling the white space
with letters
to correspond with method
and madness,

she blends in
like a mother.


Painting by János Rombauer [Public domain].

Making magma

I’d like to draw a map of you

for perspective,

for options,

for borders, both imaginary &

reactionary.

Your vellum,

I now know like the belly of my palm.

And our lines converge, overlap, and seal off

familiar territories, provincial islands of natives,

like Us where

there is a sense of belonging,

lining up and finding places 

specific to our likeness and 
locale is in a sense

relative to distance to each other

within our limited spheres

flattened as Atlas can get
and remain.

Two souls collide Here, two bodies melt,

there two souls trapped, 
surrounded bodies of turbid water 

that become brackish by exchange.

This is all I can do 
with nothing else to make

but more magma

in these uncharted lands
and move on. 

Painting by D. Howard Hitchcock (1914) 'Moon and stars over Diamond Head' in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

A genda

Today, I will write,

Paint, read, make marks in space(s)

Empty of purpose ( ). 

Painting by Nicolas Henri Jeaurat de Bertry (1777) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Post Art-i-fact-o

What happened in here?

They All asked

they made Art

with what they found

with new found Purpose

They said

let us try to Make

something of This

you See more than many

Depth, behind or beyond Being inside

your Time

Frame.

What happened was-All reaction,

I’s further upon reflection,

absorb color theory, insistent as Form,

stole shape of an idea and Acts upon it.

It happens.

not all see it.

that way more for us

to take in and make out. 

Painting by Władysław Malecki (1883) (cyfrowe.mnw.art.pl) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

The rise of casuality

Because we are the effects, not the primes

as in Primates,

we are moved,

as in affected.

Because we breed

maladies and machinations

we create

as in Creatures

more than was there before Us, 

as in BC (Blind Carbon).

We infer our differences 

in grand designs and poor planning

or preferences and likenesses

as reflections of self-expression

and omit the other view

to simplify.

Why do we need to know

Why

as though living without question

helps with this affliction of mortality

or enlightens eternity...

Shall we give up and let it go, as though

we influence more than our mind 

-do not answer that-

Instead, let's suppose 

the conclusion 

need only a new name 

or learned skill for our adaptable

immutable

Fin de siècle

or inability to sit

still...

We move On

and are moved ever more,

for even though in an odd way

the Word made it the first 

to day. 

Image credit By Strobridge Litho. Co., Cincinnati & New York [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Poetry Athiest

Through This
I have met wonderful words
Via verse
I have become Estranged
By thinking
This way
I have situated
and I have
sat while yours waited
Saturated myself in vocabulary
languished and lingered
here,
seeking how to mean
more,
but saying it wrong
and left you hanging
bifurcating and circumventing
all crystal-clear communication.

Through This
I have seen wonderous worlds
Making
I have molded and manipulated
matter, made grey,
so I could see both
Art and Science
poetically-particulately
condensed
essentially
and failed
to Make sense
This-
Density, I have done
I reason
and found None.




Image credit-By 'Not given' [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, c. 1920.

After All Art (Tanka)

Make haste with your art
Make it say what you cannot
utter, honestly
hurry-I worry we won't
make it-we won't, after all.













Image of painting by József Borsos,The Dissatisfied Painter (Crisis in the Life of a Painter), 1852 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Building the Doozer Adobe Dome

Ground has been broken.
It is coming along with callused hands,
bloody knuckles, slimy elbows
and the shoulders
of Atlas.
                                                                Making progress?
Making is a process,
even when done
this way before-
there is a rhythm
in the rhyme.
                                                                To each his own to find.
The ones near the top
are fools gold
bodies that steal the sun.
                                                                You'll need to dig deeper.
When it all caves in
you can hear a faint echo
where labor lost love.
And as you go down,
ear to the earth, grumbles;
but from above, glistening.
Erecting glass towers,
prisms with poise,
                                                                one stone away
                                                                from crystallography.
Yes, we may get buried
                                                                over.
Yet, we must continue
on schedule,
with slotted setbacks
                                                                spaced out.
Rock.              Water.                Bone.
Not to worry,
it all comes out right
when done.
Once all fine points                                 (grains)
                                                                              are settled,
resistance quelled,
the dirt goes back
right
where it flows
best,
                                                                 in order
to rest in peace,
on this sight                                              we will make
it
on
Time.





Image By Yoav Dothan (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.