B L U F F

December 15, 2017

 

 

 

My god my marygold

You’ve had such a holy hold

On this old drifting imagined world

You’ve banged open the till

Abundant with bundles  apparent now

Inside this  2-lane roadside  joint

Trucks rocketing by

You’ve had such a holy hold on my

sprouting spouting spurting words of my own godly modern love/

My own heart murmuring/ my idleWild  chit chat/

My own head concurring nodding plodding plotting

“Don’t take this cup from me”.

I can ante up.

What I can bring to the table.

What I can ad lib/ to fib  my own fable.

.

.

.

.                                                            (from 5 or 6 years back)

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STANDING BY CLOSE

March 8, 2017

young  acidTongued  Erato,

go forward  yr foul followThrough,

spitWhisper her cryptic  figures.

i’d  dampen  the  barb,

reshapened of fogWebs.

i’ll soften all  blows against the  liveWire

i’ll try to translate  all i need

from  freed  ashes

from the spillFree  gashes in the flare’s hottest fireGrate.

.

.

.

.

.

If I could face the palace/Going holed up in a hotel/Is not one way I’d go

THE ABSENSUALIST

March 30, 2015

I could finally confide

that lately I’d  lost

that long drive that’d taken me

off all my maps.

.

She would certainly intercede,

She brought fresh buds through frost,

I’ve a return drive  she’d taken me

Back onto new paths.

.

.

.

I can close my eyes  and see

Her heart  near and warm

But open  I can not see

Her hand upon my arm.

.

.

.

.

(from july 2010)

Impalpable

August 11, 2014

Neruda’s ” impalpable ash”

Chants away/

In the fray of my own tiny ruins.

.

If I touch/ near the fire/

Impalpable ash..”

Chimes away/

And supports the clearing away  all

Insubstantial,

Makes way to take less blinding steps away

From  cave  to  climax

I’ve come to have left out

Crucial  rescue  tools

From my matutinal

Lost-combination locked bag of tricks.

In touch  information

Out

  • .

.

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

.

s t I N K

.

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 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  cemetary!

(they must go deep)

Precious sunned bones poised on as symbols

Archetexture   actually

I take a sacred see of symmetry

.

.

.

.

.

.                                                                                                       (from years ago, still & for always true)

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/

 

My god my marygold

You’ve such a holy hold

On this old drifting imagined world

You’ve banged open the till

Abundant with bundles  less hiding now

Inside this  2-lane roadside  joint

Trucks rocketing by

You’ve got such a holy hold on my

sprouting spouting spurting words of my own godly modern love/

My own heart murmuring/ my idleWild  chit chat/

My own head concurring nodding plodding plotting

“Don’t take this cup from me”

I can ante up

What I can bring to the table

What I can ad lib/ to fib  my own fable

August 27, 2011

Ma  Luna Aurelia  is lying low

Me myself, I rode  to just out of range

Bats & fireflies  on ill-lit highways

………………go  where  to  go

Me myself, I’d  misadventure off

………………the  page  some

………………Ink Up  & stumble off

………………Discover lost  feet