Gasps
Monday, June 30, 2003
 
[a revised version]


WORKING IT OUT

Working something out. Occasionally wonder whether that should unfold before your eyes. Is our knowledge of each other sufficient for such intimacy? Do you know enough to recognize: to know me is to see me forever working something out not usually prudent to witness? I trust your hair shall always curl around my fingers. I am trusting your eyes will never slit away

Ultimately, though it was just once, we have kissed

Through open window, from the streets, the marble is a shadow

Through open window, from the streets, shadows darken orange veins luminously inset within Antarctican marble

Through open window, from the streets, shadows conceal orange veins formed by mud penetrating marble's cobalt plane

Through open window, from the streets, marble veins erase themselves in the shadows

Through open window, from the streets, a found painting waits as a marble wall

Through open window, from the streets, a painting I shall show you someday for, once, we have kissed

Through open window, from the streets, a blue and orange painting I shall show you someday for, once, we have kissed

Through open window, from the streets, a painting ("Blue and Orange" by Brice Marden, 2002) I shall show you someday for, once, we have kissed


*****

THOUGHTS: I'm mulling over the progression and thought to add the last two lines -- for increasing both the energy of its progression as well as the slope of the energy path's trajectory -- by moving *toward* more specificity. (The reference to a Brice Marden painting is fictional, but if I recall correctly, he did do paintings utilizing these two colors in a relatively recent series.) But, I don't know: guess I'm really "working out" this poem on more than one level....


 
WORKING IT OUT

Working something out. Occasionally wonder whether that should unfold before your eyes. Is our knowledge of each other sufficient for such intimacy? Do you know enough to recognize: to know me is to see me forever working something out not usually prudent to witness? I trust your hair shall always curl around my fingers. I am trusting your eyes will never slit away

Ultimately, though it was just once, we have kissed

Through open window, from the streets, the marble is a shadow

Through open window, from the streets, shadows darken orange veins luminously inset within Antarctican marble

Through open window, from the streets, shadows conceal orange veins formed by mud penetrating marble's cobalt plane

Through open window, from the streets, marble veins erase themselves in the shadows

Through open window, from the streets, a found painting waits as a marble wall

Through open window, from the streets, a painting I shall show you someday for, once, we have kissed


 
THIRD PARTY

Working something out. Occasionally wonder whether that should unfold before your eyes. Is our knowledge of each other sufficient for such intimacy? Do you know enough to recognize: to know me is to see me forever working something out not usually prudent to witness? I trust your hair shall always curl around my fingers. I am trusting your eyes will never slit away...

Ultimately, though it was just once, we have kissed


 
AND NOW

confusing you
with my dreams
of you

who never
licked
each tip

of my hair--

an act
sourcing
more regret

for you
never lick
each tip

of my hair
now
or did before


*****

THOUGHTS: Minimalism is always such a challenge; most of my attempts fell me....


Wednesday, June 25, 2003
 
NOTE TO MYSELF

So Blogger's been down all day at my CorpsePoetics Blog which was really frustrating as I'm all damned up: I must have four or five posts all ready to go -- dang if it don't make me wonder how voluble I'd be if I weren't dead. Anyway, when I kept trying to get onto my other blog, Blogger would say:

11:00 AM PDT: Your blog is currently being converted to a new-and-improved version of Blogger. Please bear with us. It should be back later today.

Finally, after the eighth time today of reading this, it occurred to me that I should remember this feeling of..."unrequited passion" (you blogger-addicts know what I mean). As it'll be good for Love's Last Gasps. Like the knocking on someone's locked door. Steel door.

That leaves knuckles bruised and bleeding.

Staining the bodice of the white silk dress you'd bought with his eyes in mind after you first noticed it in the boutique window. The dress had glimmered from the noon sun, its sheen seemingly a wink at you as it promised, "He'll love to tear me from your body."

Dazzle of milk spilling to paint the sunlit air.

Over and over, you had replayed the mental scenes promised by that dress -- various permutations of his hands across your flesh. With all images sharing the Preface of white silk ripping apart to puddle onto the floor. All imaginings in slow motion to heighten your relishing. Dazzle of spilt milk on a sunlit oak floor.

Now, you're only smearing flayed flesh, steel grit and blood across your dress as you back away from that implacably shut door, turn around, walk away.

And begin questioning yourself, "Who is this rejected woman? Who am I?"


Tuesday, June 24, 2003
 
NEGATIVE SPACE


You were never frozen in moments incapable of a thought other than the memory of my hair against your lips

Your blood never flowed simply because I was alive

The descent of snow was never the perfect metaphor for how we rushed to each other

You were never so moved that your mouth felt full of oatmeal as you tried to talk to me

Your fingers never retained my scent for weeks after I had to leave on a trip

The tip of your nose never memorized the center pathway atop my "scalp"

You never released birds through your mouth so that they would sing for me

With your hands wrapped tightly around my waist, you never shared a view through a window, a view of "green hills sloping off in the distance"

You never wanted to trap one of my fleeting glances and make it "sustained"

You never tapped against my computer screen, asking -- begging -- "Are you awake?"

You were never haunted by the memory of how the hair "brushes back from the nape" of my neck

You never said you would do whatever it takes to see me physically lose my-Self in the way I lose myself in poems

You never said you wanted me to use my menstrual blood to paint across your skin

You never said you looked at "a sky" and wished instead to be looking into my eyes

You never said, while Iraq was being bombed, that you could rest in a "joy" defined as thinking of my ankles

You certainly never claimed to be "the one who walked through the spaces I hollowed out from air and left behind in anticipation of you"


*****

THOUGHTS: The above is really just a model for what would be a poem I envision as "Negative Space." (I need to really edit the above, and I think I'd want to also really lengthen it.) Basically, I was thinking of writing a poem by contradicting every statement made between lovers. But I want authentic source material rather than the fictional premises for the above poem. There's a certain frisson, I think, in genuine love letters. Well, so, hey, if anyone has any old love letters from former lovers they want me to use as a basis for this type of poem, just let me know!! (I suppose that depending on your situation, you might construe this as a perverse request -- in which case, ya know, you don't have to respond. I just make poems.)



Monday, June 23, 2003
 
"IS THIS THY WILL?"

Ram
Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram


*****

THOUGHTS: "Ram" means "God" and the underlying concept behind these "Ram" poems is explained in the June 22, 2003 post at CorpsePoetics.
After writing the first "Ram Poem" below (titled "Ideal Coping"), it occurred to me that you could use the same body of the text for a lot of poems and just change the title of the poem, as I did with this second poem. Befitting Love's Last Gasps's theme, I chose "Is This Thy Will?" as I imagined someone asking that of Ram/God -- among the many questions that come up in the process of a relationship ending. I could continue with more such poems, but you get the drift. And the result -- a marvelous result, in my view -- are books that need not be written: say, extremely THICK volume of poems where all the text is "Ram, Ram, Ram....." and where each poem is differentiated simply by the titles. But I'll stick with the Conceptual Idea without needing to publish such books. Or publish the books with the explanation of the body of the text and just publish the different titles (helps minimize cutting down the trees that way). This all seems appropriate if one is to believe that (i) God and Poetry encompasses all (or, for the latter, that Poetry can encompass all); and (ii) that Poetry is not just words. Last but not least, to repeat the word "Ram" over and over is perhaps to engender a similar experience as one feels in repeating the word "Om."


Sunday, June 22, 2003
 
IDEAL COPING

Ram
Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram
Ram


*****

THOUGHTS: See the June 22, 2003 post at CorpsePoetics.





Wednesday, June 18, 2003
 
IRONY

"You could be a great ironist if you only knew"
--from an e-mail to Ms. WinePoetics


The one before him had insisted each person is always alone. It only made her love him more when he promised, "You will never be alone." She thought there was so much courage in his promise. She relaxed then into his promise and, in that relaxed space, she began to forget the other one by labeling him a "nihilist." Thus, when it ended, more than a relationship ended. His cancelled promise also collapsed her still fragile Faith that she would never again be alone. The one before him had remained with her for years and had not been the one to leave; she had left him because he always insisted each person remains alone. The one whose promise she had believed lasted mere weeks. This is not a poem. This is not a poem.


 
The Strategy Always Tried Despite Its Historically-Proven Failure And, Moreover, Attempted This Time By Two Participants Who Have Often Expounded (In Very Public Forums) On The Importance of *Compassion* -- Consequently Birthing Even More Unnecessary Proof To What We Already Know: Not That Love, Or Its Dying, Makes Us Foolish But That Love Should Never Die Or, Perhaps Even More Accurately, The Concept of Love Dying Is Oxymoronic Because The Definition Of Love Inherently Includes Eternity; And Last But Not Least When Love Dies Its Protagonists Cancel Beauty; Except One Should Never Say "Last But Not Least" Because There Are So Many Layers To Any One Story As When, Once, One Of The Protagonists To This Poem's Tale Revealed To A Third Party Who Shall Forever Remain Secret (Such Secrecy Creating Yet Another Layer) That S/he Is Committing Anew To A Relationship Because S/he Is Afraid And Not Because The Matter At Hand Is Love

Bonding
and rebo(u)nding
through cruelty
to others
instead of
with each other --

(e.g.
He says, "Their poetry sucks."
She says, "I *so* agree!!!") --

another last gasp

whose success
shall remain
merely the vividness
of a superrealist image

(painted by so many others
before them -- these two
whose mirrors remain mute)

: meaty fragments
yellowing between
cracked, black teeth

no doubt to end
framed
in wood painted gold
but not gold


*****

THOUGHTS: I was thinking of a certain artist who made paintings with very long titles; the titles were often reflective and often became abstruse. And so I was playing around with editing this poem's title (versus the body of the text), trying to lengthen it as much as possible. I could continue this exercise....but you get the drift....

Tuesday, June 17, 2003
 
The Strategy Always Tried Despite Its Historically-Proven Failure And, Moreover, Attempted This Time By Two Participants Who Have Often Expounded (In Very Public Forums) On The Importance of *Compassion* -- Consequently Birthing Even More Unnecessary Proof To What We Already Know: Not That Love, Or Its Dying, Makes Us Foolish But That Love Should Never Die Or, Perhaps Even More Accurately, The Concept of Love Dying Is Oxymoronic Because The Definition Of Love Inherently Includes Eternity; And Last But Not Least When Love Dies Its Protagonists Cancel Beauty

Bonding
and rebo(u)nding
through cruelty
to others
instead of
with each other --

(e.g.
He says, "Their poetry sucks."
She says, "I *so* agree!!!") --

another last gasp

whose success
shall remain
merely the vividness
of a superrealist image

(painted by so many others
before them -- these two
whose mirrors remain mute)

: meaty fragments
yellowing between
cracked, black teeth

no doubt to end
framed
in wood painted gold
but not gold


 
The Strategy Always Tried Despite Its Historically-Proven Failure

Bonding
and rebo(u)nding
through cruelty
to others
instead of
with each other --

(e.g.
He says, "Their poetry sucks."
She says, "I *so* agree!!!") --

another last gasp

whose success
shall remain
merely the vividness
of a superrealist image

(painted by so many others
before them -- these two
who think they're so *original*!!!
for their over-sized
mirrors remain mute)

: meaty fragments
yellowing between
cracked, black teeth

no doubt to end
framed
in wood painted gold
but not gold


Sunday, June 15, 2003
 
Hay(na)ku

Discrimination:
a Love
replete with irony


Thursday, June 12, 2003
 
1: 25 P.M.

Unexpectedly
a cut-off
limb says "Hello"

*****

THOUGHTS: Geeez: methinks this thread is deteriorating. Duuuuude! Why'd ya have to call me today at 1:25 p.m.?!

(Just kidding; of course no one really called since this is all ... fiction...)



 
1: 25 P.M.

Hello
you unexpected
and cut-off limb


 
1:25 P.M.

Your
unexpected "Hello"
a cut-off limb

*****

THOUGHTS: Jes bein' ludic....



 
1: 25 P.M.

"Hello"
from you
a cut-off limb



*****

THOUGHTS: Example of "Hay(na)ku" -- a new poetic form commemorating Philippine Independence Day. Invented by Ms. WinePoetics and renamed by Vince Gotera (see June 12 posts at Winepoetics).



Tuesday, June 10, 2003
 
Morning Breath

Woke to words
deadening my tongue:

"...this weariness in spirit..."



Monday, June 09, 2003
 
The Sheen


Edit memory
for a sheen
where reflections
reveal flares
from unfurlings

where ex-glimpses
leave sideway glances
to reveal the ghost
behind night window
as mere branch

where the long-felt
becomes visible
becomes seen

Plummet to ascend to
where the sun blinds
and it doesn't matter

Heat unfreezes
balled feathers

Now: a future
released
beyond old horizon

breathes

there beyond the limit
of the whitest light


Saturday, June 07, 2003
 
Pebble Poem

How to correct memory

the way sun edited
a boulder into light


 
Retrospective

Chiseling memory

Shard pierces --

Once, a whisper entwined with my hair:
See how the sun corrects that boulder into light


 
FUTILITY


appalling retrospective --

ranger seeking bribe that never arrives

seeking a sheen
for memory chisels out --

once, a sunray corrected a rock
into a pretty light


*****

THOUGHTS: The futility of so many discussions, wishing-otherwises, "regrets," anger...and so on as Love dies. If it wasn't such a bummer of a topic, I'd dedicate this poem to Jukka-Pekka Kervinen. Jukka asked to publish "Boulder: A Concrete Poem" and "R-Factors" (scroll below) in either xStream of xStreamConcrete, journals for experimental poetry. Thanks for asking, Jukka. And because Jukka asked, I revisited these poems, and -- just as I'd chiseled out "R-Factors" from "Boulder," I decided to continue chiseling away at "R-Factors." I came up with "Futility." Hmmm...perhaps I should keep chiseling until I arrive at a .... pebble-poem! (Already, I'm thinking of deleting the first line....)



Friday, June 06, 2003
 
REGRESSION

(i)
At 4 a.m. wings become oil

Pink, but
still difficult to get taxi

What light a lamp musters
across damp boulevard
becomes blurry

               (or is it air that's gritty?).

Why is air gritty? In any city
isn't air supposed to feel
cleaner on empty streets?

Oh: empty streets!
               clean empty streets!

Your words in my satin-lined pocket --
Oh: letter in my pocket! --
fails
           to soothe foot arches

What were you saying, weeping
about a sculpture you dreamt:
a steel crane hefting a glass wrecking ball?

There it goes: another yellow
speeding for the end has come
to another shift that began years ago

Wings curl beneath black leather

Fists form atop each shoulder

I feel 5 a.m. arrive with no eggs


(ii)
I could continue this unexpected poem
I haven't written like this for years
I thought happiness was a CEO position:
You do your best and if you're good
          you might end up leading the corporation
                    if you do your best and you're good


(iii)
Between 4 and 5 a.m. I understand
joy

is a poem: unpredictable,
"much ado over nothing," elusive –

that's it! Elusive. Like a cab at 4 a.m.

I should flare my wings as gloriously
as your tongue promised someday

to ravish me. As your tongue
promised, "Someday." As your
tongue promised a glorious day

                someday

elusive as a cab at 4 a.m.
when all wings are flattened

by oily, musky aftermath of fortitude


*****


THOUGHTS: First published in POPULAR MECHANICS (thanks Jim Behrle). You can hear me read this poem at Jim's Blog (in his post dated June 6).



 
Aftermath Discussion #10

The question is valid.
All questions are valid.
What I dispute are answers.

But

Perhaps

But

Perhaps

There are better questions:
"How did you wet your underwear?"

-- it being hopefully understood that underwear can dampen from a variety of sources ranging over unbridled laughter to unbridled eros to unbridled anger to unbridled ... bridles --

Our questions are still mired in intellect.

-- get some rock and roll, the blues, some fuckin' fado, or just plain shizzolatin' shit into this pitted arena! We are not graduate students cogitating to please some molting professor, okay? --

Persevere?

Persevere. Like fallen angels
who traded Paradise
for wide-open eyes.

They cradle what they inspect
on bleeding wingtips. Let's see
the blood, stick out our tongues
for other questions, other questions:

"What does blood taste like?"

"How does it feel to have the blood of a rebel angel move now within your veins?"


*****

THOUGHTS: The above was "chiseled" (nice choice, Kasey) out from a brief essay I'd sent the editors of High Chair Journal who wanted me to answer the question: "Is the question -- 'Is it a poem?' -- still valid?" (Note two references that popped out from my consistent jogging through blogland: re "shizzolatin'" and "graduate students"; I have absolutely nothing against grad students, btw.) So I was playing to see how much of my answer to High Chair's editors could become recontextualized into a poem about one of the many discussions lovers inevitably have in the process of dissolving relationships. As it turned out, most of the poem's text comes directly from my meditation on HIgh Chair's topic. I am not surprised. Words are so porous and permeable, much like ...emotions. And, like how:

Identity is always persistently in flux.

P.S. Initially, the poem was titled "#50." I changed it to "#10" as I wondered whether most (not all, but most) lovers going through aftermath discussions would be more disheartened at persevering with dialogue at the tenth versus fiftieth discussion. Of course I don't know for sure; it's not like I counsel people for a living, yah?


P.P.S. Actually, I'm conflicted over the result (suspect this poem is still half-baked). But my second-guessing seems appropriate as it leads me back to the original question with which I began walking this particular path: "Is this a poem?" And now that I ask myself that about one of my poems, I also realize -- this question is very, very, very .... small. Tediously small.


Thursday, June 05, 2003
 
R-FACTORS


"regret is an appalling waste of energy"

a retrospective that creates refugees

in hiding from a bribed ranger
's sunglasses seeking bandanaed reflections

Sunrays coating gray rocks
offer a sheen, pretty

but false as a repentance

also in hiding
for what is rational is not what serves the day:

right = negative X (wrong)


*****

THOUGHTS: For thoughts on this and the preceding poem ("Boulder: A Concrete Poem"), see the first post dated June 5, 2003 at WinePoetics.



Wednesday, June 04, 2003
 
BOULDER: A CONCRETE POEM

But your eyes are open as you read this & knowing this
it's almost as though I am kissing you
so sweet the knowledge that you cannot hide now
& that for at least this moment I am yours & you mine
--from a "found" Love Letter



regret is that i have but one ninja to regret is a sound cd single regret is retrospective regret is a linguistic compromise regret is a 'whitewash' regret is insincere regret is an odd emotion regret is a useless emotion regret is nothing more than failure to focus on the future regret is that i didn't seek his assistance earlier regret is that i have but one ninja to give to my country regret is a sound regret is forever regret is an inevitable consequence of life regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for nearly a year now regret is a funny thing regret is a 'whitewash' us generals thought refugee columns could hide infiltrators survivors of a notorious massacre by regret is a cop regret is perhaps a universal experience regret is not that i got pregnant at the age of sixteen regret is met by a texas ranger regret is an odd emotion because it comes only upon reflection regret is the latest installment in origin's award regret is the summation of regrets from i to j through time regret is a special form of dissonance in which you wish regret is the motivator to become a new person regret is proportional to the regret is among them regret is an appalling waste of energy regret is if anything tougher than the first installment regret is the only regret is ray’s directorial and producing debut regret is what's left when there's no one else to blame regret is regret is salvation regret is living in the past instead of the moment regret is progressive alternative bastard rock for the millennium regret is essentially the probability regret is that i did not respect his wish to die peacefully in his own home surrounded by his family regret is healthy regret is permanent regret is permanent edited by regret is inherently unhealthy and that some psychological expedient must be found to get rid of it regret is selected regret is probably both inevitable and unavoidable regret is not not telling them how i feel not telling them what i want and what i believe regret is the hangover of haste regret is giving up my friends for a guy regret is not repentance; regret is an interesting mental phenomenon regret is introduced regret is a difficult topic for me to talk about regret is not in the misdeed itself regret is to be without desire regret is different from apology regret is rational regret is practically significant and appropriate when the agent committed a mistake regret is to submit to allah while there is still time and to comply with the commands of allah regret is an emotion proper to the dead; to embrace catastrophe with exhilaration is a work of art regret is that i didn't have it done 20 years ago regret is a superbly crafted page regret is but a passing daydream regret is the distress of our minds or sorrow for what has been done regret is issued regret is inevitable in dealing with the death of a loved one regret is the notion of "what might have been regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it's only good for wallowing in regret is a waste of time regret is defined as “distress over a desire unfulfilled or an action performed or not performed” regret is typically de regret is in order regret is waking up and not knowing what i did the night before regret is not really possible unless we can clearly distinguish between right and wrong regret is sharpest for unusual choices that regret is a useful tool or emotion similar to a wake up call regret is the man who wanders the wilderness alone regret is i didn't start earlier when i was young regret is sometimes the most honest voice we know regret is much more regret is actually good for the soul regret is not enough regret is not listening to my mum and dad when i was young regret is to be like a ship which is still tossed around by a storm that's long gone regret is expected if you cannot attend regret is that i´m not someone else regret is greatly aided by picking options that are relatively small regret is normally associated with something that you have control over regret is the last thing on their minds regret is invariably about something that you are powerless to affect regret is what i put my family through regret is that i have but one ninja to regret is a sound cd single regret is retrospective regret is a linguistic compromise regret is a 'whitewash' regret is insincere regret is an odd emotion regret is a useless emotion regret is nothing more than failure to focus on the future regret is that i didn't seek his assistance earlier regret is that i have but one ninja to give to my country regret is a sound regret is forever regret is an inevitable consequence of life regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for nearly a year now regret is a funny thing regret is a 'whitewash' us generals thought refugee columns could hide infiltrators survivors of a notorious massacre by regret is a cop regret is perhaps a universal experience regret is not that i got pregnant at the age of sixteen regret is met by a texas ranger regret is an odd emotion because it comes only upon reflection regret is the latest installment in origin's award regret is the summation of regrets from i to j through time regret is a special form of dissonance in which you wish regret is the motivator to become a new person regret is proportional to the regret is among them regret is an appalling waste of energy regret is if anything tougher than the first installment regret is the only regret is ray’s directorial and producing debut regret is what's left when there's no one else to blame regret is regret is salvation regret is living in the past instead of the moment regret is progressive alternative bastard rock for the millennium regret is essentially the probability regret is that i did not respect his wish to die peacefully in his own home surrounded by his family regret is healthy regret is permanent regret is permanent edited by regret is inherently unhealthy and that some psychological expedient must be found to get rid of it regret is selected regret is probably both inevitable and unavoidable regret is not not telling them how i feel not telling them what i want and what i believe regret is the hangover of haste regret is giving up my friends for a guy regret is not repentance; regret is an interesting mental phenomenon regret is introduced regret is a difficult topic for me to talk about regret is not in the misdeed itself regret is to be without desire regret is different from apology regret is rational regret is practically significant and appropriate when the agent committed a mistake regret is to submit to allah while there is still time and to comply with the commands of allah regret is an emotion proper to the dead; to embrace catastrophe with exhilaration is a work of art regret is that i didn't have it done 20 years ago regret is a superbly crafted page regret is but a passing daydream regret is the distress of our minds or sorrow for what has been done regret is issued regret is inevitable in dealing with the death of a loved one regret is the notion of "what might have been regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it's only good for wallowing in regret is a waste of time regret is defined as “distress over a desire unfulfilled or an action performed or not performed” regret is typically de regret is in order regret is waking up and not knowing what i did the night before regret is not really possible unless we can clearly distinguish between right and wrong regret is sharpest for unusual choices that regret is a useful tool or emotion similar to a wake up call regret is the man who wanders the wilderness alone regret is i didn't start earlier when i was young regret is sometimes the most honest voice we know regret is much more regret is actually good for the soul regret is not enough regret is not listening to my mum and dad when i was young regret is to be like a ship which is still tossed around by a storm that's long gone regret is expected if you cannot attend regret is that i´m not someone else regret is greatly aided by picking options that are relatively small regret is normally associated with something that you have control over regret is the last thing on their minds regret is invariably about something that you are powerless to affect regret is what i put my family through regret is that i have but one ninja to regret is a sound cd single regret is retrospective regret is a linguistic compromise regret is a 'whitewash' regret is insincere regret is an odd emotion regret is a useless emotion regret is nothing more than failure to focus on the future regret is that i didn't seek his assistance earlier regret is that i have but one ninja to give to my country regret is a sound regret is forever regret is an inevitable consequence of life regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for nearly a year now regret is a funny thing regret is a 'whitewash' us generals thought refugee columns could hide infiltrators survivors of a notorious massacre by regret is a cop regret is perhaps a universal experience regret is not that i got pregnant at the age of sixteen regret is met by a texas ranger regret is an odd emotion because it comes only upon reflection regret is the latest installment in origin's award regret is the summation of regrets from i to j through time regret is a special form of dissonance in which you wish regret is the motivator to become a new person regret is proportional to the regret is among them regret is an appalling waste of energy regret is if anything tougher than the first installment regret is the only regret is ray’s directorial and producing debut regret is what's left when there's no one else to blame regret is regret is salvation regret is living in the past instead of the moment regret is progressive alternative bastard rock for the millennium regret is essentially the probability regret is that i did not respect his wish to die peacefully in his own home surrounded by his family regret is healthy regret is permanent regret is permanent edited by regret is inherently unhealthy and that some psychological expedient must be found to get rid of it regret is selected regret is probably both inevitable and unavoidable regret is not not telling them how i feel not telling them what i want and what i believe regret is the hangover of haste regret is giving up my friends for a guy regret is not repentance; regret is an interesting mental phenomenon regret is introduced regret is a difficult topic for me to talk about regret is not in the misdeed itself regret is to be without desire regret is different from apology regret is rational regret is practically significant and appropriate when the agent committed a mistake regret is to submit to allah while there is still time and to comply with the commands of allah regret is an emotion proper to the dead; to embrace catastrophe with exhilaration is a work of art regret is that i didn't have it done 20 years ago regret is a superbly crafted page regret is but a passing daydream regret is the distress of our minds or sorrow for what has been done regret is issued regret is inevitable in dealing with the death of a loved one regret is the notion of "what might have been regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it's only good for wallowing in regret is a waste of time regret is defined as “distress over a desire unfulfilled or an action performed or not performed” regret is typically de regret is in order regret is waking up and not knowing what i did the night before regret is not really possible unless we can clearly distinguish between right and wrong regret is sharpest for unusual choices that regret is a useful tool or emotion similar to a wake up call regret is the man who wanders the wilderness alone regret is i didn't start earlier when i was young regret is sometimes the most honest voice we know regret is much more regret is actually good for the soul regret is not enough regret is not listening to my mum and dad when i was young regret is to be like a ship which is still tossed around by a storm that's long gone regret is expected if you cannot attend regret is that i´m not someone else regret is greatly aided by picking options that are relatively small regret is normally associated with something that you have control over regret is the last thing on their minds regret is invariably about something that you are powerless to affect regret is what i put my family through regret is that i have but one ninja to regret is a sound cd single regret is retrospective regret is a linguistic compromise regret is a 'whitewash' regret is insincere regret is an odd emotion regret is a useless emotion regret is nothing more than failure to focus on the future regret is that i didn't seek his assistance earlier regret is that i have but one ninja to give to my country regret is a sound regret is forever regret is an inevitable consequence of life regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for regret is an album that i have wanted to get around to writing about for nearly a year now regret is a funny thing regret is a 'whitewash' us generals thought refugee columns could hide infiltrators survivors of a notorious massacre by regret is a cop regret is perhaps a universal experience regret is not that i got pregnant at the age of sixteen regret is met by a texas ranger regret is an odd emotion because it comes only upon reflection regret is the latest installment in origin's award regret is the summation of regrets from i to j through time regret is a special form of dissonance in which you wish regret is the motivator to become a new person regret is proportional to the regret is among them regret is an appalling waste of energy regret is if anything tougher than the first installment regret is the only regret is ray’s directorial and producing debut regret is what's left when there's no one else to blame regret is regret is salvation regret is living in the past instead of the moment regret is progressive alternative bastard rock for the millennium regret is essentially the probability regret is that i did not respect his wish to die peacefully in his own home surrounded by his family regret is healthy regret is permanent regret is permanent edited by regret is inherently unhealthy and that some psychological expedient must be found to get rid of it regret is selected regret is probably both inevitable and unavoidable regret is not not telling them how i feel not telling them what i want and what i believe regret is the hangover of haste regret is giving up my friends for a guy regret is not repentance; regret is an interesting mental phenomenon regret is introduced regret is a difficult topic for me to talk about regret is not in the misdeed itself regret is to be without desire regret is different from apology regret is rational regret is practically significant and appropriate when the agent committed a mistake regret is to submit to allah while there is still time and to comply with the commands of allah regret is an emotion proper to the dead; to embrace catastrophe with exhilaration is a work of art regret is that i didn't have it done 20 years ago regret is a superbly crafted page regret is but a passing daydream regret is the distress of our minds or sorrow for what has been done regret is issued regret is inevitable in dealing with the death of a loved one regret is the notion of "what might have been regret is an appalling waste of energy; you can't build on it; it's only good for wallowing in regret is a waste of time regret is defined as “distress over a desire unfulfilled or an action performed or not performed” regret is typically de regret is in order regret is waking up and not knowing what i did the night before regret is not really possible unless we can clearly distinguish between right and wrong regret is sharpest for unusual choices that regret is a useful tool or emotion similar to a wake up call regret is the man who wanders the wilderness alone regret is i didn't start earlier when i was young regret is sometimes the most honest voice we know regret is much more regret is actually good for the soul regret is not enough regret is not listening to my mum and dad when i was young regret is to be like a ship which is still tossed around by a storm that's long gone regret is expected if you cannot attend regret is that i´m not someone else regret is greatly aided by picking options that are relatively small regret is normally associated with something that you have control over regret is the last thing on their minds regret is invariably about something that you are powerless to affect regret is what i put my family through


Tuesday, June 03, 2003
 
LUDIC + [...]

ridiculous absence
if only it were not
a life of baroque
sears bathingsuit
mermaid, just
that i am no
eyes under water
because of this
nonexistent guitar
plucking the strings
practice practice
less and pretend
of this absence
cheeks. because
pale remains
orchid and use
tisane drained
absence i have
(not yours)
yes my rib
shard needle
with thread
sew a dress
because of this
ridiculous absence

*****

THOUGHTS: Poem is dedicated to Jean Gier; I carved out my poem from Jean's June 2, 2003 poem at her Nightjar2 Blog. If you check out Jean's poem, you'll see I wrote out my poem from a reverse order of her lines, before repeating the first line so that, metaphorically, I also could draw/write a circle with this poem.


Sunday, June 01, 2003
 
Footnote to The Virgin's Knot (#100)

And prayers?
But they begin only through lightning

's fissure
against constancy of sky




******

THOUGHTS: See May 31, 2003 post at WinePoetics as regards this and preceding "Footnote Poems."


 
Footnote to The Virgin's Knot (#101)

As such, his lovers would come to associate the hollows of his palms with the fragrance of wildness -- like memories one would forget if one could.



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