Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Long Division: Strains Of One

Dainty figurines, collide-expand
Upon the altar, knotted-stained
For which they stand; warped and dated
Like the mores buried, still, straining to inhale
Knee-deep down, beside, within—
The Laundering of time pronounced, for without
Borrowed—procured ceramic, forgone—
As it is with the stuttering of art, from in,
Unknown qualities emerge, myths and absolutions
Laying bare before the mantles, and within
All illumine beneath each face it makes appear.

        Strength bemoans the martyr, as the power of fear, is concealed within each face before you here—those of strangers and Judases alike—whose stones are visibly clear, not in hand but in the discoloration within each their eyes”

Monday, November 25, 2013


Body on an axis, a plane all it’s own—
Vertebrae stacked, aligned,
Proportionate to the space above
And the depths below we hope never shall we know

One arm—let’s call it right—
Up and out, down and in—
Stretched and placed
Cutting through—
     While palm collides
Over coursing, invisibly aligned, the metacarpal shifts, turns, turns, turning,
     All the while returning in, unnerved yet unnoticeably misinformed…it’s only the observant eye, the kind that can catch the ghosts that live between and through the chasms of the breath…bearing a structure;
An angular procession; with pulling tension, culling
All about, contouring what connections
The body feels, as it does, until the cycle
Spurs parallel, another action pushing further,
Away, and out, delaying all that could have and may still become—a semicircular pattern; a crucible undone, leaving only milliseconds before the symbiosis shatters all the ills that never were, yet thought had been, completed sums…Shall we…begin again

HOW many breaths will you choose to take in between?