PORTENDING A PORTAL

March 5, 2018

Where the carousel  comes to where…

.

When the maelstrom makes certain turns to…

.

“THIS IS WHERE I CAME IN!”

I’ll quip, & I could wink,  then break up the fourth wall

I’ll step off,  & start off,  I’ve forced   a freefall,

For any form of  free   I will welcome.

If I find my feet  I can become

A pilgrim  on path,

A pilgrim back  filling his path.

 

 

 

 

CAROUSEL

1st artist unknown,

treated by

Fleur Talbot

 

 

 

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Landscape W/ Red Roots

February 21, 2018

LANDSCAPE  WITH  RED  ROOTS

.

Mangroves  exposed

I suppose  I’m still  within

Walking  trees?

I bet it’s the breeze exposed stalks

Meant deep in the loamy dirts

I Kick through my feet still walk.

Let go away from the vision’s skirts.

Toddle off,

To Twist over a vista he sees

To a view he can see, One he will see.

.

.

.

chaim soutine

Chaim  Soutine’s–“Landscapes With Red Roofs”

WE’D GO SO

February 14, 2018

 

 

This  one  liaison

We’ll go so  for foreign films

Our unbridled pillow talk there,

On chiseled crystal chaise lounge chairs,

Will be subtitled.

.

We’d meet.

One moon  might

Lighten  one  clutch,

Tonight  once closed curtains

Might   much/open/legged  open  one

We’d mean

To go  so far as to

Show our gods of love  lots of what they’d bet on,

Completedly   W/some things  &

Unneededly  subtitlings.

 

jeannemElevator

..

 

DOLLAR-STORE GLASSES

January 5, 2018

I wear dollar-store glasses
they help me work on perspective.
I live for nothing I can think of.  fact.
It’s suggested I might strive for focus.
In my day bed i might live
with one window & uncertainly my curtain cracked

I can wear one seventy five
On dollar-store glasses
I passed par for an old guy.
I’m far from passed, muy alive.
Tho’ she could present a good argument
Contesting that mad “muy” adjective.
I’d abstain again & again
And I’d hate to publicly substantiate

11-17-2005-07 Read the rest of this entry »

PORTENDING A PORTAL

August 16, 2016

 

 

When the carousel  comes to where…

When the maelstrom makes certain turns to…

“This is where I came in!”

I’ll quip, and wink, and break up the fourth wall

I’ll step off,  & start off,  forcing a freefall,

& any form of  free  I will welcome.

If I find my feet  I can become

A pilgrim  on path,

A pilgrim back  filling his path.

 

TRANSFIXION

June 20, 2016

I  can’t  transfix  my  P.O.V.

 

I  can’t  transfix  enough.

 

I  can  remix  some  sub dubbed  copy.

 

I’ll  crop  the  stills  until  they’re  still enough

 

I got word from my brother,

A suggestion from one lover;

It’s still  finely time to fill in those spaces,

I will take on cyber lawyers, to fill out a cyber will.

 

My cards splayed out on tables,

A gasp goes down  ’round the drawn crowd,

As they turn to peak at my color

Already leaking from my face.

It may be that they maybe wait.

.

.

Something. I turn up  to yearn her coming  colour,

Sumptuously  flushing her chest and her cheek.

I can very hardly wait.

She’ll  start  to  try  to  speak…

And I’ll find and see

All in all, the riches mined & left shining

After finalities,

Are just filthy lucre

Aside memories

 

 

 

 

…but from here;  a boxed baggage bin,

in whatever vessel burning,

Point on  into blank,  frigid  forths.

Andever  vexed  in  yearning.

 

Blind Pilgrims/ Taxed temporal things/

Kinshipbourne/ Trapped/ As my fathers/

Captive on this  course/ We’re  bound to be/

Forlorn/  for treks  on farther.

 

 

 

 

from many years ago, for  Daddy

 rest in peace, b.3/21/29-d.5/29/57

1 CLIP

March 6, 2016

 

 

I’ve dreamt  and forget..

I only kept

One excerpt, one clip

I took back

Here to look back to

.

You could see down

To two  in the water,

Not drowned.

You could see that down there

That they were freely moving.

.

See

We ride out on

That river of grasses,

That  for a while now

Made for miles

Between us.

.

We’d ride out on

The one door, the one

We always want open

We’d ride one door

Still open

Wide to a wide world.

.

 

BEAUTY IN BLACK

December 5, 2015

If you’re tired to talk

If it’s too late for listening

My little time to tell you

But I think I just must tell you both

My dreams were dark   no  darker

Much darker than your bedroom

I’m afraid and I need to tell you

I want to tell you to hug me

And to let me under your blankets.

One morning I saw you and they were off

I stood  and  stared

You were the very best thing I ever saw

Both of you were so good  I cried.

I don’t want to wake you

Just my little time to tell you  both

My dreams were dark  no  darker.

 

 

 

http---americanart.si.edu-images-1979-1979.98.121_1a.jpg

( Rockwell Kent, “The Lovers” 1928 wood engraving on paper)
for mom & daddy