Montaña

I have never seen
a mountain
I did not like
until now.

I had never before seen
a mountain
you could fall in love with
whose body hovered over yours
like an angel, whose shape outlined
the carnal tone
and muster its mass
against the sky with ease.

I found myself
at the base.
Cowering in the shadows,
meeting the mountain
I thought I had been dwelling atop
for the first time
seeing level
as plain as today. 





Photograph credit: Ansel Adams [Public domain], Glacier National Park Montana c. 1941-42 via Wikimedia Commons.

Click

It wasn't a loud sound
per se
but resonated deeply
each time I looked
                   into his eyes
                   briefly
                   penetrated through
                   his haze
                   and saw
the injured beast, writhing
and lashing out,
foaming at the mouth,
                   standing before him
unafraid
to listen
                    to his screams
     I wait...
for him to catch his breath
and re-stoke his anger
to re-assure
me
                      of fear
it becomes clear
he wants me
                      more than
afraid-

I stay still
staying
vulnerable
                      taking in
                      all the black hate
trying to
level up
with love
I try to feel
                       sorry-
for him
for us
for this pain-
sans blame-
when it clicked
                        the lock
and I rose

inhaling deeply,
and walked away.

Painting by William Kay Blacklock [Public domain].

And then...

Been dying to tell you the secret-
just like it is
Everything is in fractals-not by structure
but in grid-in-side-grid-space holders,
a map of anywhere on parchment.
Pores perhaps provide a relief-map.

Fractal as a symptom of a laser aimed at
a prism, facet or side-effect, escaping only where it burrows out from
hazy photons penetrating angles,
becoming-White. There.
Be coming color-full.
Describe what violet looks like to you?
Is it between two shades?
Tell me how to do the steps for the
choreography of light,
or memorize algorithmic sets
without giving away the Bigger picture
as fractals demonstrate, inevitably infinite.

They have kept me quiet long-
enough to forget what was wrong
to begin with.
They asked, finally, what I see-
They didn't-
know the origin of the light.

It is on.
Won't you come in-
(secret)
I have seen the missing pieces

between us-the dates do not align.

Painting By Sigmund Klempner (1867–1941) (Christie's) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Mirroring matter

Mirrors may make us
uncomfortable
because they are not-
omni-perspective-or
All
of view.

Things like this,
that seem to be
merely a reflective signal
may not be observed actively
holding and casting light.

Some of us,
completely visible to some others,
may be seen through and seem
somewhat scared of such spontaneous
reflections
that move like we do when we
go about
Being.

We need to be shown
how to hold ourselves
together in order
to be taken in
without seeming to fall apart
or over refract-and distort

such as you noticing yourself
between all things and still
yet unable to divide photons
by four dimensions
or separate yourself
from what is behind you.


Painting by Pierre Bonard, 'Mirror on the wash stand' c. 1908, in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons.

Round and Sound

To find a new center
we can focus on balance,
sides and equilibrium,

Although atrophy never lasts
-nothing to sphere-

Diametrically, we weigh shape,
as if a perfect circle was the ideal
to show the ray.

Light bends, travels,
precedes, tints, radiates,
shape-shifts, falls and lies.

Some angles are smoother
than others,
shorter like radii
Such is life.
Piece of unfinished pi
and I-colored-out-side
seek only to penetrate

Inside the lines

of poetry.

Painting by Vassily Kandinsky, 'Circles in a circle' (1923) in Public Domain via Wikipedia Commons. 

A sense of place

There was this song I have never heard
but its rhythms told my body that we've danced before.

In the yellow sunrise, the old farmhouse glows
like a candle in the road and looks as though I've lived there before.
The side door, if I remember, is unlocked.

The old woman that peddles vegetables every day in her blue bin on a bicycle,
I've never seen her before, but I bought some more Romas anyway.

Tulips in the garden are breaking their silence, like the mockingbird
the chorus, the words, I've heard anteriorly in this same spot before.

I thought by now I'd be pining for the giant hewn tree,
the shade it once made-but the roses are blooming,
and I'm left feeling stumped.
The grass is greener.

The new postman, who sometimes rings twice
because he forgets where he is at,
delivered a package for me down the street.
A neighbor I had never met brought it over to me,
like long lost friends, it was good to see both of them.

At home, I have house-guests
I rarely see.
Teenagers, some call them.
Outside, I feel out of place.
Inside, I feel too big in my own space.
Today, I picked up a peculiar novel
idea, and went with it.





Image By Yinan Chen (www.goodfreephotos.com (gallery, image)) [Public Domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

wild is relative to tame

The wildcat lazes in my lap,
his sleep disturbed suddenly by my human
sounds-briefly he stirs to make certain it was not him,
my stomach growls at him,
when his attention snaps suddenly, pupils go black
above me, behind and over my head,
enrapt in some blurred glassy vision-
I see-I feel nothing-my vision is going-
and he is cautious, cowering without stalking-it moves
His focus-
Upward again,
I peak-

A cobweb, or ghost spider home
flutters downward over us.
The hall light flickers, like my pulse
and then I can only close my eyes
and pretend I am purring along.

We rest our heavy animal heads
and listen in deeper
but fall into the same trap
as our hairs, split evenly
and stroked lightly
by an errant cool breeze.
It was touching
to be chosen

likewise.