canny, aboriginal mind
the cold press of future past
evaporates in the heat of now.
canny, aboriginal mind
the cold press of future past
evaporates in the heat of now.
Coyote Poker
The hand well-played is not always obvious
from the hand dealt.
It’s a constant troubleshoot
not a constant win.
The stakes are everything—
laid out, played out, piercing.
The deal is random
the cards are often marked
invisibly
making some hands brutal
in subtle hidden ways
even to, or especially to, those
who see and know everything.
Omniscient ones.
Reincarnate only within
the limits of face and suit.
Even then it’s luck or fate
or the turn of the trickster.
dive into the snow–
to remember in later years,
to feel it tangibly
in your bones,
to know the difference,
and to choose
in this very moment.
(working on the title)
Submarine
Beneath the surface flows
an envious stream
conscious not of
impending implosion’s effects
on the circulatory system
or the costs associated with
the transfer of bodily fluids
not to mention
the security risks.
Epitaph: fire sorrowful loving
I feel your loving gaze
and sorrowful, tender heart
as you stand near my vanquished body,
cold and peacefully returning to the earth.
I have left the fire behind.
Let its flames warm you and fill your
open heart. Attend to its path and flight.
Don’t let it blaze out of control. Don’t ignore it or
damp it down until it dies out.
Cherish this life.
There was a fat woman of pride
Who was truthful and had nothing to hide.
Her mountainous thighs
She didn’t disguise,
But dressed them in leathers to ride.
Critique
Words peel away the fascia of creation
like a scalpel removing flesh-eating bacteria
to get to the bone which is clean and pure–
the marrow carrying the load of intent.
Fluttering in the belly
the novice and the master,
their souls under glass pumped
and crushed by the words of others.
But sometimes it is all form and technique
the intensity of a life neglected
by the narcisism of culture
and the smithing of self.
The seeing is a mirror, a feedback loop
of percpetion–I think therefore I am.
The own knowing is what is known
and seen and said, not done.
The critic is a cat, unconcerned
with the effects of the game on the prey.
The words are believed because we cannot trust
that what we see is true, limited
as we are by our own reflections.
In the Garden
a black caterpillar
dining…
eating…
filling…
gorging
huge
ill-junctured killing-fields
leaves mined
numerous, oily, poisonous
quietly rinse slimy toad underbellies
vomit wet x-crement
yesterday’s zeitgeist
a blessed catalyst
Knowing
heat and churning seas
mind without the breathing wants
with grim disorder
heat, order, knowing
The bird that mocks is widowed–
some organic extract weakened her system,
or perhaps all her eggs were laid out
like a pauper counting pennies
without hope even for a side of fries,
or maybe she just couldn’t stomach
last year’s cuckolding mate courting
blindly with other’s songs.
Darwin doubted
a standard of truth
by noting the differences.
In my yard all I hear is
beautiful music.
(first draft)
Thanks for the help,
Ingenious, illegal, impulsive, itchy, insidious, illustrious, irritable, informal, icky, imperfect, incredible, innocent
the cactus is growing
motionless
it’s off the chart
perceiving
tendencies to overwater
neglect
mindfully monitoring
change.
(cactus, chart, motionless)
Thanks to Don Drake of Dreaming Mind.
Looking forward to Saturday!!
What action
does not grate
on someone?
a parental kiss
a lover’s touch
a friend’s assurance
Even these can be
pulled away from.
The poetry request was a cinquain with the prompts risk, wiggy and round.
I used the A, B, C, C, B scheme.
Both this and the previous post will be a book for the challenge.
CHOICE
He walked along the sand
Or, rather, zigged and zagged, plunging
In his wiggy way into the waters and out
As if weighing what the risk was about
Round and back his indecision continuing.
A thank you note was requested for writing with the prompts wave, lean and quirky.
Dear Renee-
I hope you saw me wave from the car as I rolled down the driveway into the red- maple-lit street.
The visit was stimulating and energizing as always. Being together brings out all the quirky, crazy ideas that have needed an outlet. Nothing lean or minimalist for us-full out color, texture and relief to bring things to life.
Many, many thanks for hosting the latest of our Art Fests. They seem to be getting better and better as does the food.
Looking forward to the next one out my way.
Love, Lois
There is a system to the abject sublime in art religion culture colliding sustenance suffering rebirth. the wrapper defines us and whether we can eat or see at all is determined by the punch we have drunk.