Friday, October 30, 2015

Objects of Extinction


Here is a place for safe keeping of wares
of which no one cares
about
or for
anymore

You see, objects must possess
utility
not the other way around
I thing...

Superfluous, miscellaneous and etceteras,
come small and tall, starting with the most
noticeable of all
It loiters and litters
on street corners,
posing as a service,
always empty: full of germs
a fishbowl sometimes
where will Superman change?

On such urban safari
look with caution for painted ladies,
who shoot straight from the rosehip
Mark's men, and the Law, a Band
of bureaucratic brothers
and Brothels bumping,
candles burning the midnight
body oil, spraying caution to the wind

the freight car goes by interrupting
notching our mechanical life on rails
the weight we take, mobile homes
and gypsies on tour

The cash we don't carry, the phones we don't answer,
the answering machine will get it
page me if it's important, 911
I'm looking for a music video
on TV, not the radio, with a dial
Zero for the operator, Information?
What now?

Caught on tape,
Scotch?
velcro, pump-ups
knee-highs and high rises
choked ankles with pegged pants
rags brand new, faux fur, and real feathers
the cats meow, the hum of things unseen

in our wireless world
always on
radio waves attacking the video star
we hear nothing
too busy wherever we are
on GPS
tagged
checking in
and signing out.

ECho, Echo, echo, cho, o
Are we in here too?

Image By Conrad Poirier [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.


Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe


To write!
Marking and mucking it up
not ambidextrously
although it may read thusly
manually, this is searching
I write.

I feel the ink flow
I make it come out so
dark and round
bilingually between
print and cursive
encrypted, now I write

more in pen, coded cursives
and dismissives, symbols 
instructions only I know
making living language breathe

O how I want,
from my pens' tip to your sweet lips
How so sweet do I know?
I taste the words first.

I write
sometimes it gets loose and away 
from me, high and inside
-if I can grab it
and show you-
if I can find it
I can write
until nobody reads cursive

Ye olde quill
becomes nill
turning to teletype
telepathy script better have Edit

Well, 
I will write 
still
cradling, holding, pulling, drawing out the words
needing to bleed it out
in tendrils
of untranslatable text
while thinking of what to write next...


Image By "Tichnor Quality Views," Reg. U. S. Pat. Off. Made Only by Tichnor Bros., Inc., Boston, Mass. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.




Bugging me (Tanka)


The paper hits the
floor, under the fold it says
loudly, a purpose,
look inside, between
last words: splat, flat, gnat, take that!













Image by Yva [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Afloat tonight


Light,
           light               feather
                       as a
chit for chat
idle, chew the fat
                                 nonsense
weather
                   whether
I fear
                    I cannot hear
(the talk is too small)

-It's your call-
(don't answer)

rhetorically,
                     what if...


           light-ly
Light
                      as an **IDEA**
wham-bam
                     Thank You
                                         shhhh
(snores
ignored tonight)
          Up      like             the moonlight              
I'll be

Light
             light
                         as ignite
(that's right)
Incite-I might try
                         to light your fire
a spark
gleaming
in the dark
                        Light-years
                                    away...
(Please,
keep your beacon bright for me).



Image By NASA/Scott Kelly over Italy from ISS[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.



Tuesday, October 27, 2015

The story goes...

Loose ends and what-nots
(for now)
                  Left out
An antennae for articulation
Feelers for the unfinished
Business                
               of this
                          Busy-ness
Buried in
Piles of slush
Blue bergs on my shoulder
                          Peeking like turtles,
the Titles only protrude embossed edges.
Forensically, youth is represented by shades of Green.
Golden leaf mulched for hi-res imagining
And this
is precisely why
                          Starting only feels new once
Again like re-occurring recurring
serial coincidence becomes easier to predict.
     Like weather
once
(in a while)
upon
and the ending never comes after-
a Time

Happily.



Image in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, State Library of Queensland.

Monday, October 26, 2015

The Monarchy of October


From my quiet pitch in my pj's
the dawns dark fire rekindled
under the coal clouds
embers embracing day 
remembering and warming
their undersides
pink lily liver bellies 
waiting for white to shine on...

The shadows never slept,
spoke the moon softly
who watched 
the menage a trois
of Mars, Venus and Jupiter
atop the altocumulus stage
late and lascivious at this hour-

A hush and the sky gives way
to orange, Octobers delicacy
indulgent, licking glad and warm, 
Indians wave
at the passing warm breeze 
the kindred Monarch
of summer reborn 
taking the Santa Ana pass
linger now

A black phoebe cracks
shells in the slow stir
of rise and shine
human voices splinter
lips labor for slivers, 
making first words
untruth
whispers and thoughts
are better for the butterflies
already dressed 
for Octobers occasion. 




Image by By Lisafern (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.




One on One, or Eleven


I.
It is only breaking the rules 
if you are playing the same game.
II.
They are called Higher Truths
because they go over the heads of those looking down.
III.
Popular and award-winning are not goals,
they are only endings.
IV.
Despite the reflection in the mirror,
you've only met in passing.
V.
Success is doing what you're good at every day,
even when it is not successful.
VI.
Education is a service, learning is a luxury,
and comprehension is a privilege. 
VII.
A nest egg is for your children's future.
VIII.
Spend your legacy in your lifetime. 
IX.
Real love is pure selflessness. 
X.
Dreams are conversations.
XI.
Art tells secrets.
Creativity is light and light.



Image By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], The world's history, a history of the world.  via Wikimedia Commons.



Half-dozen Mud cakes

Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss  and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...