Tag Archives: kehidupan
72 Panels
behind her shoji screen
where protected, felt assured to be naked
no unbidden glances
would spill from a mans eye
gathered in her own mind
and clothed touched the soft panels
each to represent a year of life,
the ones lived and ones to come
patches of existence on a written timeframe,
smiling she moved to the window
hillside and meadow
no sharp intrusions to the eye
looking back she wondered of the last panel
what ghosts lurked behind
for it was hidden
until the time was right,
a swarm of bees sounded outside
nectar and honey
as she expected love to be
but mother said not,
spoke of not having to worship a man,
his edges not so rounded
where often cruel as father was
to others but not her
not a favorite they just understood,
it did not matter of the last panel
for she knew how long she had
as sliding the door behind
walked out onto a busy street
sublime oranges
he measured the room
by volume of the dark
with light subtracted,
moving as ulysses did in hades
he would find breakfast on the sand,
ocean not so far away
as high tides where relevant,
rituals began
ideas stencilled on embryonic dna
created this path and outlook,
sometimes he felt it was only he
he revolving and the earth had stopped,
it was not a crisis of meaning
only an imbalance on his poetics,
even in the dark
he could place a pen nib and write
about placing kisses on her
naked arcitecture,
a finding in deep silence
what she had really meant
under that cloak of shuddering mysticism
pen scratched paper
it would be ten pages,
before images faltered and pen halted,
ignoring wine that had already spilled on
table top,
peeled an orange
segmented aspects from which to
derive a special calm,
her bewitching had been an interference
but now choking fumes cleared
and he was at last
truly free
@dVersePoets
angels at the pagan threshold
landscape seen by standing eye
on wind stripped rooftops edge,
answers pilgrims of nausea
fall as if from the depths of the sky,
horizon alone with forest
sun faced green silk and gold,
tracks of those who journey in faith
into the still of wooded glade,
within voices imagined
brambles pulled by enraged fingers
mess and tangle hide
that place used as a remote hope,
he should be there
pale faced
emotions a fountains stream
pleasure would not be found
with slackened vines,
this horizon embraced him
pulled into its complex afternoon
where time lie down
petal seconds fall,
chaos is not for choosing
sleep will not be heeded
as these files of thought
are put away,
staunched by class,
those in power jailers to tomorrow,
gas would fill indecent blue
and many more would fall,
for the sake
of secrets of kings
wordle
99% fractured glass
letterman taught liberal arts
bukowski master of the open portal
that caught flies and dirty blondes ,
there where no country estates
or manicured ladies in crinolene,
too much hubbub
and relentless spiral of those
who live in such an octopus town,
that solar flares light the street
and guide those whose frail stories
stumble over awkward words
and metaphor,
master of bliss
with shimmering teeth
and boiling stench caught on
warmer breeze
vigilant for kisses and erotic
composure,
severed happiness from tears
and kept each separate,
behind the doors of our octopus
town the withered languish
robbed of enchanted loins
and their tears now crystallized
as rings for deaths fingers,
clotted souls clogged
as choked diaphragms coughed and
hacked sluices of phlegm,
the doors opened for a moment each day
quick enough for a shadow to be
flung out,
madness was a bomb on every street corner,
diffused as she appeared,
her deceit to entice
and enchant,
womb of silken flotsam
carried nothing hopeful,
yet her heart once orphaned
brought a rising sun
that closed the portal
to bukowski’s dismay
letterman fell aside victim
to iron skies and sanities rent,
heal deep she called
finding it broken
and lambs put together the pieces
with a well chewed glue
sucking in breath
sunburnt man
wretched and weary
beneath light and rain,
thunder smelled of goatskin
and musky aftershave,
steps taken like a drunk
falling on his own
sky crossed with jets
over the park
those travelling to another
countries sun to relax,
as slowly it ceased
shimmering haze
brought glare to eyes
worn with failing status
once he was among the rest
spewing from subway to curb
urgent and despairing
eager to get home,
that place with a yard
spill of ivy
trimmed lawn,
but that page had turned
fortune walked away like
everyone else,
yet his eyes sparkled
renewed vigor in his step,
he saw the torture he once
experienced,
now he belonged to no one
bank, employer, wife
even country,
he was an independent state
illustration 9
ants loud enough
close to his head,
reprieve of summer cool
as he lay under his cart
pushed for close to a mile
finding geography
awkward to place
despite being his city once,
his mind a squoze larvae
thoughts brief as a snakes hiss,
irritable tongue of weeds,
lying still
close to impossible,
underpass old concrete walls
tagged by youth
more used to shooting than talking
overhead cars heat and horses,
smells nasal reverberations
he would feel quieter
if at the bottom of a lake
where on it’s silted bed
with fishes as companions
devouring algae from his closed eyes,
heat would be gone
and his mind would make sense,
the moon did not bring night rain,
eventually he stood
rocking on heels
than began to walk
this time he would find the start
of his journey
Morning Blend
sun slits days first sky,
morning sweet as unbitten candy,
sidewalk warm with evaporating
stains of rain,
moving to the car in the lot
metal warm contours
windows open,
radio interrupted silence
news bisects my mind
shootings, loss, agony, fire
emotive stackup for the day,
early congestion everywhere
car noses prominent
pushed as bows on blacktop,
juddering in lines
with nominal spurts of speed,
instead of frustration
my breath became clear
so i would not fog the windows,
would she be waking
what first thoughts,
it did not matter
cellphone switched off
work would not be expecting
me either,
elements of freedom began to encroach,
if only the traffic moved faster
human tide most offensive,
we live under burden and pressure
uniting physical and metaphysical,
other faces stared ahead
bluetooth headsets flickering
nobody smiled
grey faced stream,
gazing from one car to another
inhaling fumes through a/c
how desperate it seemed,
even music could not alter this
monotonous mass,
i was part of this
humanity as a whole,
to depart from all this
would i become a monster.
In response to http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/08/17/weekly-photo-challenge-merge/#respond working on a theme of MERGE
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