Monday, April 20, 2015

Finding the Words (a work long and still in progress)


I am no poet, no singer
inked blank pages,
stacked bound tomes,
convince no one
that I in singing, scribbling

make my mark.

reified, the metaphor's
a joke—the mark a mar,
in margins full of papyrus,
a muddy flow, a stain
that blacks the whole.

a silent dark.

emptiness roars
through an exhausted skull
white bone caverns—
the supple, writhing Nile
Sheba for Solomon—

“Cerulean”

Euterpe's ghost intones
invoking sacred flow and holy Sky:
voiceless, unspeakable
infinite and

Blue.

Rush Hour

Left rear view S-U-V looms past: Ford. Expedition. Headed to work.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Haiku 2 and 3

OR

Some poets write great
verse. Some can't or don't. I eat
sweet plums. I read po'ms.

OR

Some poets write great
verse. Some can't. Some don't. I read
sweet plums. I write po'ms.

Haiku 1

Some folks write great verse--
Others not so much. Go. Eat
sweet plums. Pick fine po'ms.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

7 a.m. I'm thinking
of language--how with consciousness
or as incipient consciousness or as
a consequence of that consciousness
(which came first? . . . ) language
is present in creation--with rocks
& frogs & glow sticks & microwaves
it exists
potentially
from the beginning
In the Beginning was
and wasn't, of course

I think of how we think: subject / verb / object knowing
these are believed to be brain-wired categories, boxes like Kant's ten
from the back of the book--or the front. How language centers in one cortex or another, pre-
determine all of this, including our discernment of the categories themselves.

And the brain itself, developing according to codes: whose codes?
Whose message do biologists presume? From life to life, chain letter,
telephone game.

Potent presence potentially present

Calvino knew about this. Calvino with his Cosmicomics, his deconstructed universe, his sense of how myth and logic vie--of (ov, ovum, oval, oeuf) the validly invalid constructs potential in our converging and colliding systems of meaning.

And here it occurs to me is the black hole beginning and ending:


A woman before breakfast
scribbles in a notebook
that will never see the light

words froth irresistibly
& pour with no potency
out of her

phantom structures
that imitate more public
more completed

edifice

phantoms of thought
shriveled between black wings
& smothered there

What purpose does it serve?
Will anyone want to read?

She doubts it
but the force
the potent potency

drives words forth
her six white horses
& she combs the manes

like sea froth
or the scum on broth
& the departure

excrescence, expulsion
pulsing creation
may flail in fading potency

on the dock
the horses hooves
no longer pounding

only the back and forth
of the endless sources
urging up

across the otherwise deserted sand

ready, she is ready
ready, ready & empty
wondering on this cusp

this verge, this boundaryland:

Does the world explode
from a bottomless dissatisfaction
with non-entity?





Friday, November 13, 2009

Unblock

If you can’t write . . .
read.
Chewed sound
congeals as mark

laced ink dissolves
in silent speech

mind to body
body to print

lifeless black
on white unties

the prisoned word
pours forth

what matter
If the mouth . . .
is yours?

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Legacy

By the time I finish, you'll be on the moon.
It takes so long and I begin again
day, night, again, always the new thought.
Once or twice I found an end before a blur
of non-sequitur. Then I knew closure.
Mostly the strands diverge then clot outside
the known circumference of familiar things.

By the time I finish, Jupiter will be
home to your monuments The songs will rise
of your doings and beings, your makings, your feats.
I will be tracing a convoluted thread
a foot or two outside my door,
the yard tangled, the car on blocks.
Stagnation has its own aesthetic.

Renown is not its consequence.

By the time I finish you will not know my name.
I have known only the untuned note,
cracked torso of elegant thought—
what hints of riches, deep within the dig
what whole parts, what stories unresolved,
what bursts of pods and galaxies, what arrows
shot into vapor—their targets misaligned and understood.

As you begin, I will be mingled in
the soil of possibility, mired with damp
and the urgent expulsion of humus that rounds the worm,
still in pursuit of its mouth.
Salvation waits in that tunnel. It cannot be far.
When I find the end of my arm and sip the cup
you will be there, again, again, again.