Found art

Another day rolls by
                             and I
along with it
                             incubate.

I try
to focus
on a
single
spoke
           in the blur of spin
one catches
                    light,
and squeezes
it
into
sound
            high above
the audible range
            one carries a note,
and belts out
                      lashing with it,
create, wait, create, wait, create, wait
                      bare-backed
swinging both ways,

naturally
and only
                     through the gait
                     known distinctly
as your
body
and work
as an address.
                     
A watch swings alongside
reminding me of the beat.

It is time to hibernate.

I count the cat's eyes
           staggered and lining up
in the middle of the street
until the glare
broke
into poetic little pieces
like litter.





Artwork by Robert Delaunay [Public domain], 'The Tower and the Wheel' c. 1912-1913, located in the Museum of Modern Art.

Forts

Broken down, the All
was noplace, collectively
rather-scattering
That there is no longer
meaning
there is no there there
no such thing as a moral hunter
there will never be
a thing
that is
wholly itself alone
and shatter-proof. 
There was nothing to see
that would help us
recognize entanglement
as a knot to be undone. 




Artwork by Salvador Rosa (1615-1673) in Public Domain. 

Rapid eye movement

It was important to him that he remembered his dream 
so he could tell me-
He remembered his ‘idols’ there, men he looked up to 
from down in the trenches of the real world, 
They were all there,  welcoming, 
they treated him as one of the ‘boys’.

And one of the boys 
gave him a box, a puzzle box which he shook
And some pieces fell out, he felt terrible about it, 
He may have been apologizing to me.

He told me 
how frantically he scoured the floor
So he could solve the puzzle completely 
and please them greatly.

And he did but the pieces came out again and again and I was 
Certain the picture was starting to develop- 
he was dreaming of us.

His father and step-mother while visiting us once, told me about his 
childhood propensity to steal two jigsaw puzzle peices so 
at the end of the day, he could be the One
who finishes.

In the next scene, he was sitting in a room with a low table, 
on a shaggy rug, the puzzle in the box sat atop,
but  he was certain there were still pieces missing 

so he was hesitant to try to put it together
knowing it couldn't be completed.

I asked him if he wasn’t curious to know what the puzzle pictured,
He said it was just a silly dream,

And the missing pieces weren’t the thing about the dream,
it was the idols, he said.

I found it puzzling and pinched myself.  

Image credit By Mennonite Church USA Archives [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

deFragment(ation)

not late enough

to start now

the sky periwinks

lashes brush over

lids lay overwhelmed

in light shades

I am all melted 

matter that moves

and thinks not 

in solid states

no thing

could hold me here

for more

than one may take

away for another

day

un finished...

Painting by Wassily Kandinsky, Mouvement (1935) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

mincing

admitted none
wanted other
place people
there looking
harmless wishes
willing luck
superfluously
too much
said thought
corrupt convince
convoluted
diluted solutions
whims words
wasted wanting
none other.
admittedly.

Painting by Wassily Kandinsky, Red Spot II (1921),  [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

One thing at a time

Looking at parts of the hole
I see
minuscule matters
and things such as these
meta seek and micro zoom
You said and I said
We mean
the small pieces, by letter
one
It's hard to hear
the echo is blurry
what do you see
in the closeness?
One
there are clouds
clods of dirt and minerals
gems, fools gold
made into shiny clay
by the minuteness of
concentration
pulled into Virga
amounting to nothing
but the pressure to become
one
haboob
passing through
what was
once
a lush landscape.


Image by Grant W. Goodge, NASA, in N. Caroline, Virga from atop Flat Top Mountain.