A P OT H E C A R Y

January 21, 2014

Eli’s call came early

Cold & way too early for a new day

I was awake but I still dreamed

His call was a cry

As if it was for him

Insteada the other way

It was up to him

To set that we’d meet at the dimmest

Darkest strobing streetlight

Down under, nest to the trestle

When I got there, so was a girl named Angel

She held on to Eli, but could hardly protect him

We all talked abit how doctors acted watched lately

Fact is they were shy to grant old faithful effective cures

But daily, took chances guessing & giving crap

What well-dressed pharmaceutical promotion reps

Offered up in the morning hours

.

“You were once prescribed ho hum valientum”,

Eli teased, “And now Say Please

& I’ll fill your order ’till soon you’ll kill your ill-at-ease”

Angel smiled free of charge, her kind habit,

& I paid all the rest

And ran off like a rabbit.

  • .

.

i)

s t  I N K

.

of all the lies

in the air

that this liar

is truly unaware of

(is  ’truly’  the right word?)

of all the lies

casual and caressing there

the air currents  n

night-blooming jasmine

the golden ones have come from…

(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)

emboldened lies, all born, I imagine,

from an open pen draining onto pages,

.

from nothing.

ii).

.

.

I’VE   IVORY

.

Shiny gold pen when an old

Shade-off light bulb

(it can be a candle)

Best  Klieg-lights this  crèche ,

Best showcases this birthplace.

.

On my knees

To lure verities,  (surely,  scour our trees)

To cure maladies,

Wrest fallacies from unsound foundations,

Whisper one less lonely

Wise,  recognizable incantation.

Take this shiny gold pen…!

.

It’s nearby,  go forth,  go further.

I clear my path,

&  Go over…

&  I’ve  Ivory!

Simba’s  mammoth  cemetery!

(they must go deep)

Precious sunned bones poised on  as symbols

Archetexture   actually

I take a sacred see of symmetry

.

iii)

When poetry’s  god the old notions

When poetry goes poetry in motion

All of a sudden certain

Privileged glimpses are blurting out

.

All of a sudden

Uncertain unseen forces

Focus on instances, my wording output

(shushshush  on my sources)

It’s a code I can tap

Out

.

Court fans helped cool it all down.

They  called  it

On account of a hung jury.

Collective  unconscious,

Jung’s blurred things,

His thinking slurred all the town.

The thing is, I’m thinking,

Not “It’s a hot July”,

As the massive Law’s doors

Miss and swing by and behind me,

But “It’s way tres’ cool for a hot July.”

“LAVENDER DARK”

January 3, 2013

 

lavender dark

 

My dusk meets dawn

I lack an abstract  with me in it

I mark it “Lavender Dark”

The last red poem/ the 1st read paean, it’ll

Open some day with somber informality,

Then steepen  in its diffusion

(diamond fogs are just  like that),

So that the only way out is to blow out a sigh,

Accept clever nonsense,

&  as ever, just sigh.

.

.

The visual piece “Lavender Dark” comes courtesy of the fine artist  IRAM.

You can visit her unique work at DeviantArt

http://iram.deviantart.com/

ENDING AN END CHAPTER

November 20, 2012

 

 

 

Ending An End Chapter

November 20, 2012

If there would be woods where

Where  in a light clearing  inside

One could hear a pen drop  symphony

I’d see to it  I’d go back to it

I’d go back to a lower

Low key.

.

Sure, I can, and her, end an end chapter here

Here where sugarcane flourishes

Where swamp orchid garnishes

What you see

(Or maybe  maples run sweeter for her and me)

.

He’d hoped they’d elope to  low profile

In fact, go back to a lower

Low profile.

 

When my time’s up,

I bet, When it’s time to settle up,

&  I’m front & back  up against the barricade,

I bet, I dare  to gawk and glare

Past the barricade.

.

I’ll scarcely be scared

Or  ever

The least bit biblically

Humbled by heaven.

.

I would

I could not  certainly see

The  foals  and fawns there,

Pups,  piglets,

&  All our infants.

Eaglets  soar  there

.

uncharacteristically,

I would not mind waiting.

still

I must discuss

A dark circus is in town

A boy in a spin, and trees swing around

He drops, and the swing stops

New dewfrost falls, he’s lost

In all the bare trees

.

A heavy disguise

Could be of use here

So cover your eyes, please

Your lover’s indecent

And trying on lies

His heart’s denying hard here

It’s a fact;  Abstract lies

.

Squeezebox  hymns  seem

To squish by inbetween

Aligned  treebark

Lighted & Loudened by a fullmooncloud

Lions let free/  Dark

Circus tonight and if I might

Mix in that crowd

A heavy disguise could

Be of some use

Leaf Shadows Wild

October 29, 2012

There is indignity  this city

Shouldn’t see  from me.

We wouldn’t want it continuing.

I’m advised to restrict public showing.

And sunrise is up

And 1st  to say

It’s not good,

It  should not

See the light of day.

Tonight tho’   I say

When storm winds

Blow  shadows,

Leaf  shadows wild,

What might be imagined

Stands on stage,

And acts out

Just now  written out

1 HYMN

September 28, 2012

 

.

.

.I hate that

It came out  not right

Translating  with all my might

I misspoke.. you mistook…

I’d cracked a crooked smile, not smirk

I’d factored in the farcical

Nature  of  nature.

.

.

.

.

It’s that  it’s sad that

Few hymns  from pews  will praise

Coincidented   chaos.

Sad, we’re not force-fed all the fanciful

Nature  of  nature.

 

PETITIONS

September 14, 2012

PETITIONS

“The blind man loves you with his eyes, the deaf man with his music.  The hospital, the battlefield, the torture room, serve you with numberless petitions. On this most ordinary night, so bearable, so plentiful in grave distractions, touch this worthless ink, this work of shame. Inform me from the great height of your beauty.”

-Leonard Cohen, “Petitions” from Death Of A Ladies Man