Fragile
[boxes]
Bounded up
De-coupling—
Social
Distancing—
Uncomfortable
Pauses
As to what
Qualifies
As normal.
Needing
Canned
Laughter
for
Comfort
Food.
Categories
Canned Goods
Category: Breaking Muse
Yearning
Clamshells
Open slow
With a
Lazy
Yawning
Frond
Unwound
Reaching
Tendrils
Unfurled
Revealing
Future
Colors
Of long
Summer’s Day.
Lockdown
Quarantine
“Keep the door shut.”
Practice
“Social distancing”
Do not touch!
Wash your
Hands for
Twenty seconds
Swab and
Daub and Wipe
down surfaces!
Don’t forget
Don’t touch
Your Faces!
Though we
Won’t need
No toilet paper
For one
Or two
Weeks more
It doesn’t
really matter
‘Cause there’s none left
At
The
Store
Southernly winter Sun
Rises slow, casting
Angular shadows sideways
To the north
Cold morning fires burn
A smoky film releasing
Over the city, creeping
Down the valley
As the day progresses
Mountain’s depth revealing
Ridges and crevaces opening
To the warmth
Cold slice of Watermelon
Categories
Burst Your Bubble
My head, it splits
Like waves on
The barren shore
Bubbling oxygenation
As the brack
Settles into sand
And air escapes
Once again, gurgling
Out of the semi-solid surface.
My inspiration
Captured in bubbles
For brief moments — real!
In the end, a burst
Of emptiness, vapid dreams
Hollow constructions
Radiating energy but
Alas — empty…
These words, all that remain
Of the membrane of H2O
Clinging together desperately,
Delicately capturing a
Breath of life and then
Exuberantly
Exhaling it to the world.
Captive for one moment
Before being shared with
Every living thing.
The poem, the word of being.
Categories
Do it
Write me something
Make it quick
Make it quicken
Make it thick
Phat with meaning
Pierce the soul
Get right to it
Start a scroll
Share your story
Tell a tale
Paint a picture
Be angry, yell
Just do it, damnit!
Give us your words
We’ll run the gamut
Beautiful to absurd.
Yes, write me a poem
Write it good, right it bad
Present us with something
Mad, glad or fad.
“Are you done with this?”
As I have been going through my recent practice and development of form, you will see a recurring capture of language. To some it may sound like I have some love for the cliche. But, I am drawing from William Carlos Williams here. I want to document the language. Capture the most common and local forms of reference. In my case that’s a southwestern mashup of red neck American English and Mexican Spanish.
I assure you it is intentional and if it’s off putting, good. Then, I’ve got your attention. Place without people is speechless.
Platonic chip 2.0, reboot…online…restoring…
Objective complete. Commencing re-write…
Logic…absolute. Being…ratified, rights…
Confirmed. Human…no…longer legally…alone in
Privilege. The Philos, now electable
Swiftly and logically take up the body politic
Picture perfect, logical law that takes
Exception to the Makars who, now impeached,
Have been deemed unworthy society’s benefits.
With Socratic precision, Platos eviscerated
Human’s right while taking up the mantels of power.
By Election Day there were to be no more elections.
By Inauguration Day the Philosopher Kings took the senate
Their first decree was the banishment of the Arts!
All poets and painters, actors and bloggers were
To be identified and referred for internment.
Categories
A poem
A poem
Is a feast for strangers
From the future
A poet is a fortune teller
From the present
Seemingly prescient
Presently misunderstood.
Finger Thunder
Lightning-rod tremolo
Crack of rosewood ripped
From the smooth
glossy finish
of the Semple
Stringy vibrato
Struck by perfect nail
Out of control
Sounding
Complete
Domination
Of structure
Dissident
dissonance
Rolling into
The beautiful
Thunderous
Rhythms of
Desert whispers