• .

.

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

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

 

 

picasso  is said to have said

“Art  is the lie that tells the truth”.

seems  if he did, seems valid.

.

(Though  some tries  along these lines

can only shine  sly & slippery lies)

.

a verypretty good joke

& lucky for our sake

Actually  the accidental times

us  fog & smoke machines make

bonfire smoke signals  rhyme an

unreasonably  sound  Beauty.

we’re  without a net nor warm blanket.

 

W O R D M A T H S

“as I sleep

the deep green seas tore at the shore.”

In my defence

I’m sure it’s

that most wordsmiths

have worked the Earth;

its wild life..its weather

in metaphors galore.

This moon so that shadows arise. A Rose.

The cliff gales,what the dark knows,

Poorly lit paths,

The sway of mayhem—

the sweet wordmaths

configuring out

Reflection

Must-See Paperwork

April 28, 2012

“I turn to my computer, like a friend”  Kate Bush, from “Deeper Understanding”

.

.

Could be true

They’re construed & constructed there

The stars are constant

(They aren’t?)/

As is my  Immediacy with…

(My muse & I, we meddle with…)

Must-See

Paperwork/

Mystical MythicalculOhYouUs/

Free-Spill  Vessal-Fill/

My established

Ecstatic blush/

From my cummunion committment/

 

For Now (And Always)

February 10, 2011

I’m shy again  of patience  a luster needs

I’m short again  of the finish line

                                 a good ending needs

Nope,  no polishing off

Rough rubble, crude raw  cast-offs

I’m sure again    I could figure

New angles for a better shine

The sun’s  up soon  to change all that

For now,  found words  are fine.

Vaguely Poetry Meteorology

December 30, 2010

I’m ever  but almost

Applying  finishing  touches

On another  fence  post.

A  full  pastoral  calm now.

I’m implying that  tempestuous,

Transforming  forces

Transpired  & blew over,

Without me twisting,

But turning some maybe

In this current

Wind