Mechanical
lobsters and soothsaying stingers
Burnt
sienna paints the horizon’s sky
With
a jagged nonchalance, we are privy, briefly,
To
the reasons why, saturnine and solstice laments
Thy
fallen sword, lying neatly by upturned bowls of porridge
I
often speak in parables. I’ve been known
to skip
A
pebble or three. I’m free, but not
really, it’s just,
That
I’ve long now since, convinced myself of this
I
often make not sense, of anything at all.
I rearrange
Celebrations
to eliminate applause. I connect the dots
that
Were
never meant to touch. I crush, too many
times. I crutch
Not
often enough
Sometimes
I enjoy nothing more, than hearing the poppycock
Squeal
it’s tales of impossibly fascinating exaggerations and somehow
Conniving
myself to believe, that every word of it is very, very real.
Yes,
sometimes I convince myself they must be true, if only to widen
The
scope and view, of what’s potential, of what may exist, past
The
horizon’s known into the land of now.
I was off the grid the past day or so, not completely back quite yet, but kind of, sort of. Unfortunately this took place on a tuesday, hmm..kind of a reverse of that song On a Tuesday by Linoleum, but anyhow, I missed out on OLN this week, which is always a highlight for me, but luckily they have archives. With that I urge anyone who hasn't already, to head on over to D'Verse and check out all the poetry on display
hey..not too late at all...the link will still be open a few more hours... i like this a lot fred...it feels very honest, reflective, the connecting dots that wouldn't touch usually...we poets tend to do this...it opens new ways, builds bridges..can relate to this..
ReplyDelete'Burnt sienna paints the horizon’s sky
ReplyDeleteWith a jagged nonchalance, we are privy, briefly,
To the reasons why, saturnine and solstice laments' You're on fire lately, connecting the dots that are never meant to touch or not your poetry expands what is possible in expression. That's a very rare and precious gift.
Alot can come for nonsense and even a sliver of truth in there with most as well. Sometimes leading to quite the revelation, sometimes leading us down a path of our own design though, as we make up a bunch of crap in our own mind, quite the web we weave.
ReplyDeleteIt's ALL poppycock Fred you got that right!! Pppycock is actually Canada's version of Crunch 'N Munch -- caramel corn... which I freaking LOVE.
ReplyDeleteBut I'm off comment now...
Yes, all that appluase does get a little strange. Best to rearrange those celebrations well in advance if one can to minimize that kind of akward horse-stuff.
jagged nonchalance, I'll see how many conversations I can slip that into in the next day. 10 I'm sure!! :) And they'll all make sense.
Oh, and that crutch -- wait til you're 78, and make it a cane. You'll just be getting started then, really. If you're a non tobacco smoker, and laugh a lot.
xo
Mechanical lobsters and soothsaying stingers
ReplyDeleteBurnt sienna paints the horizon’s sky
hey fred - better late and all all that;
man this opening hooked me in - line and sinker :D
i followed that horizon buddy -
poppycock Squeal it’s tales of impossibly fascinating exaggerations... got love that
The scope and view, of what’s potential, of what may exist, past The horizon’s known into the land of now.
S W E E T - all the best fred :D
i am all for connecting the dots and skipping stones you know....over the horizon what may be true here may not work there...i liked this man...
ReplyDeleteOh, man do I ever love THIS:
ReplyDelete"Burnt sienna paints the horizon’s sky
With a jagged nonchalance"
Fantastic.
The last bit there reminds me of Alice in Wonderland, where the White Queen tell Alice she used to be able to believe in six impossible things before breakfast. I think we must try to do unconventional things, try to break pass what is normal and usual, just so be can go beyond the known horizon. Great piece, Fred.
ReplyDelete