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
(is ’current’ the correct word?)
My 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.
.
.
.
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 in deep)
Precious sunned bones poised on as symbols
Archetexture actually
I take a sacred see of symmetry

 

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.

.

dutifully  sometimes you should shrug

& do yr lines

dutifully  from the p.o.v. of the third guy 

in a lousy joke,

of the third guy,

on cue, in yr line

waiting there  at the gates of heaven,

the punch-drunk punchline chump.

in one ya heard at a barber shop or church,

though i frequent neither.

i heard they put out quite the ambiance there

with the reading materials, murals, & make-believe talk there

.

.

.“Nearly everything we are taught is false except how to read”
Jim Harrison

.

 

 

Day 11, 28 Days of Unreason

 

 

MUY GOOD JOKE

December 31, 2017

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 as sly & slippery lies)

.

His muy good joke/

& lucky for our sake/

Actually/  the accidental awaits

us/  Fog & smoke machines make

bonfire smoke signals rise up

until unreasonably  sound  Beauty clears/

Us holding the pen? we’re  without a net nor warm blanket.

.

.

.

.

.

Sure, sweating stallions are dynamic

& may have beauty

but some  Clomp! the blossoms

god & me made.

clods  now

Muscles Quip

June 26, 2017

I confess

My prowess is

To wait & to watch &

To wit  if fate slips me a quip

Take a sip & reassess then readdress

The matter  no later than  now

 

 

Evidently a Lie / Obviously obtusely Truth;

It’s meant to be  a pair of documents,

Y’see, But I signed both.

.

Caught, I could  share   the clench

He put on that  pair of documents.

.

Bright lights washed this whiteish room.

The solemness thing   a candle brings,

Though I searched,  all the shadows had no shade in this room.

.

We digressed some away from

the heart of the matter

When he stressed  my stories were

fog & mirror

.

I’m sure I concurred  that if

Scenes and factors shift

From tellings to retellings,

It seems the fact is   seeming  shifty.

.

My “But plainly, a  planned  lie,

A tall Alibi, that had ironclad  unchanging,

‘Mimicry!’  is one word-for-word bed story,

Read to children.

.

Isn’t that  one good bet

That wins & sets the liar free?”

.

I think he let it sink in, and then set.

.

“And you expect me to reject

Classic casebook investigation technique

& instead of  doubting inconsistency,

Instead ..One consistent story

Is a tell tale “good bet”

for Guilty?  And yet,

changing ones tune again & again  is uniquely

Honest?   it’s best to revise to clarify..

As one more clearly

recalls  new  old  details?

Just as pieces of night dreams

Resurface  into..Really??!”

“Really??!!!”

.

“Um, yes.”

.

.

.

.

.                                       (from long ago, or maybe not)

DOUBLE O

February 13, 2017

 

 

Here’s   far from hardly   a chink in his ardor

His duplicitness

Is  super  obvious

To himself  most of all

A double agent  deepbreathing quiet

So dominoes don’t fall.

.

Here’s   far from hardly   a mark on his honor

His cowardice

He can cover  less & less

From  himself  least of all

Bravery he saves  to muster love enough

To face away  nothing ,  to  praise   all..

 

 

 

 

 

(6 yrs back)

 

 

of all the lies

in the air

that this liar

is truely unaware of

(is  ’truely’  the right word?)

of all the lies

casual and caressing there

the air currents  n

night-blooming jasmine

(is  ’current’  the correct word?)

the stolen ones, emboldened lies

(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)

are all born, arabesque,

of an open pen pumping onto paper,

.

from nothing.

LEAVES SHADOWS WILD

May 25, 2016

 

“There’s a moment for everyone when you fall into your own shadow and the fact is that it’s your shadow and you’re forced to live in it. And this is nothing to celebrate or not celebrate. It simply is.” – Robert Rauschenberg

 

There is indignity  this city

Shouldn’t see  from me.

We wouldn’t want it continuing.

I’m advised to restrict public showing.

When sunrise is up

And  1st  to say

It’s not good,

It  should not

See the light of day.

Tonight though   I say

When storm winds

Blow  shadows,

Leaf  shadows wild,

What might be imagined

Stands on stage,

And enacts out

Entertainments

There lain out

 

 

 

.

.

.

 

 

It’s a fact  I guess

That here backstage

I fear  before the final act  undresses

The unspoken, the between the lines, the off the page,

Is revealed  I’ll mull over my moves

How shall I shade my lines, my lies?

I’ll retain  written refrains,

But refrain giving more? or remove? or improve?

Always  soliloquies

All the way back   to old balconies

“My  Word  To  The  Unwise..

But  first!

It’s getting so I gotta get  a call on

If I’m drowning

Or if I’m dying  of thirst.”

.

SUCH SHAPES

November 18, 2015

 

 

“I cannot too much muse
Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, expressing,
Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.”
from “The Tempest”, Shakespeare
.
.
of all the lies/ in the air,

that this liar/ is truly unaware

(can “truly”, lord, be the capable word?)

of all the lies/ casual and caressing there

the golden ones have come from…

(I’ve told em./ All alchemy.)

emboldened lies, all born, I imagine…
elicited

of a silence

gifted

of a silence

too true.

.
.
.
.

/for more

https://namelessneed.wordpress.com/2013/12/07/poetry-to-poets-about-poetry-david-whyte/