A Contradictory Mindfulness

listen to ‘A Contradictory Mindfulness’ on Audioboo

Pieces.

Torn in all directions.

Shreds. Rags.

Born unto faithless winds.

Lemmings

to fall

swiftly…(Or)

Lost in a wager based trigger-field

Lost in a wildly rampant vile view

Lacking

Losing

Self

at 

every

sensation

declared

incorrect

yet.   (Are they not still a part of you?)

The insider is not necessarily the smartest

It knows everything it sees

yet makes no differentiation

in regards to relevancy or correctness of manner

Solvency

painted upon an invisibility

you've come to caress

Superimposed

Images left out in distemper's wind

Atrocious behavior, atrocious behavior!  You hate with so much vehemency

Plagues spewed upon the screen

Disagree, disavow

Questions WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

Then

you

closed

your eyes

and imagined

a less violent floe

where bergs are not as sharp

where waves do not flash-freeze 

where caverns are not composed strictly of leftover icecaps. Capitilize that, Capitlize, capitalize, capitilize

Did someone mention pride?

I'm not sure, I hear things sometimes, especially

when I try to trick myself into agreeing with those

things I'm completely opposed to….(THEN why AREyou?_)

It's a good question

It's fair, in every sense of the symbol of the word, it's fair

and

the answer is probably far too simple

for that I do dearly apologize…(There I've started already)

It's ...exhaustion... exhaustion…

I'm so tired of the wiggle room

I'm at that point

where I'll martyr some values

for a shot at peace

although….(And YOU HAD TO KNOW THIS WOULD COME) there is philosophy at play…when isn't there right?

Without peace, there is Eden.

Eden, however, some consider myth.

But, lets pretend you believe, if but for a second or two.

Then, you would know, Eden was destroyed

by man's own disobeying

Life is built on tension

Tension provides momentum

Tension stimulates the mind

Without it

with their only being peace

we would not exist

therefore

leave us

a little

perhaps

a smidgen even

just, don't take it all away

otherwise

where would we be?

Hmm… I just noticed I had this poem in my drafts.  Guess I never posted it, in which case I guess I never linked it up to Karin's Poetics from 11/10/12.  Actually turns out a blessing, as I really didn't have anything to write tonight.  Some Haiku, but that's about it.  So, I'll post this tonight for OLN, at D'Verse of course.

Stop on by, where the Superbowl of Poetry happens every week, not just once a year.

As The Flash Deceives the Eye to Feel

listen to ‘As The Flash Deceives the Eye to Feel’ on Audioboo

Muzzle, nuzzling moist, emitting light

Unto a flashpoint, a halo torn, ripped

Away from whence were born.  Siren’s

Flare, deafening stare, a shadow cries

From deep nowhere, eclipsing pathos

Upon steins well poured, as the sated

Lay bloat till morn. Grazed, snipped—tongue

tipped, teeth gripped, glazed eyes, rolled back in.

Ordeals only remain when remembered as real, and all

The mares at night, forever shall, ride away as

Dawn ascends upon, this, a pasture of the flesh.

Rainfall scatters as dense brush peaks, turning silent

As blind thoughts reap, tricking, tracking, the mind to

Play, with those fears you’ve saved away, for times

When only self-loathing will do, the trick to reinforce

How much you hate what lives in you.

Repaint the partitions.  Anoint the buried wood.  Remove the

Stains and all else that never should, live another hour that

Instills the reinforcing of any remaining shards of pain.

"It's about Wild things," who Gnu…{OS} "No, it's about monsters"

Over at D'Verse they're talking about Wild Things.  Stop on over for the beer, but stick around for the poetry on tap. Cheers.


When I was a child
I could care less
where the wild
things were…for I already
knew, it wasn't a them
but a him, yep, Charlie
Sheen, in one of
the funniest films on
baseball every made…the
original one people…the original

But as I mentioned
in the opening line
I was a child.  Yes,
a child but not a child
without interests..that's for certain.

I saw those many monsters
atop lunch pails, on books
kids were reading with some
attendant I had far too early
a crush on.  But hey, that's
pre-pubesence, yep…

I actually remember one kid
I knew, he had his math book
covered in wild things print, I had
a plain grocery bag cut to fit…I'm
who I am, and he's…well I really
don't know, never cared to...,
but now that you got me thinking about
it, I know a guy who knows a guy who
knows a girl that could probably tell me…

But I was a kid, a kid that liked what he liked
and knew what he thought he liked and those
drawings never impressed me much…nope
I preferred transformers, GI Joes and comic
art…thought these wild things were embarrassing
to be considered in the same industry that could boast the likes of Frank Miller..yep
wolver-fn-rine.  Now that was a wild thing, for sure, with
bones made of invincible steel that could protrude from his
knuckles as he saw fit and a body that self healed…yeah, that
dude was badass…and his name was Logan for crying out loud, now
that's a name…

But I was a child back then and didn't really appreciate many of
the things I do today…I didn't know the first thing about the ologies,
nope, Psychology, Philosophy, Sociology, these things were not a sprig
on my uneaten dinner plates….

But, today, things are a bit different…and I look at things with a much broader view, one filled with an appreciation for novel creations, uniqueness and open to suggestion/acceptance…

So, while I still don't particularly think these wild things are the prize of the art world, I appreciate what they are, and how they do what they do…

lines that reek of instability
Disproportions mirroring the inner mind
Monsters…a metaphor….yep

for society and for our own personas…we most certainly can be and it's important to understand this, and it's important for us to embrace this, so we can keep them under wraps…

So…long story a bit longer than intended here….that dude crafted some pretty deep things there in his wildest of imaginations come to life…and that
is
cool.

Very cool.
And who would have ever thought
A child would have to mature
to enjoy what a monster represents.

And it's sad when anyone passes before there time, but at least, this author got to spread so much of his imagination to children everywhere, and to late blooming adults as well...

The Polarity of Obfuscating Voices

listen to ‘The Polarity of Obfuscating Voices’ on Audioboo

Ahh..Tuesday.  You all know what that means. Yep, another Open Link Night over at D'Verse.  The ever-talented Natasha is tending bar and mixing drinks tonight.  So head on over, imbibe upon the amazing poetry on display, and while you're there, share one of your own.  Cheers.

For my offering tonight, you kind of need to listen to the recording to get the full gist of the piece.  As the title suggests, there are numerous voices in the poem.  I think I did a decent enough job with the various dialects I used, but I'd like to know, positive or negative, how they came out, especially for those of you in England, Scotland and Wales.  You should hear five in total.  It was a lot of fun putting together, hope you all enjoy. thanks.

Mobility of Martian warlords

and the unlucky marksman

that couldn’t flee

Junked-up edgy bugger

falling away from home—a

polarity of immolation, obfuscates

all those rectangular sensei’s buried within

Echoic in vibration

echoic in tone

with the words

that first forced

sound—from speckled lips the barker spews

Last Call….

                  spinning still

last Call

                  stumbling down

but

         no one

and I mean, the no one I could see

cared enough about astronomy

to hitch their rocketship to me

And so I trip the sidewalk waltz,

thinking of celebrity and the stars

         in thirty-second spans

I am who I know I am

One part mandrake

two petals squared

         sup the milk

but beware

of the poppy dry—clean picked

         hallucinations free to dream

of a day yet appeared

         where imagination becomes

blurred replications of a knowledge plan

where everything we’ve grown to understand

is clear to see, the darkness drifting from the day

        

Until those hours of conduction fashion such a stance

ennui fills the chalice high

         of the martyrs and the saints

the masses and the clans

                  of all those ever dreaming as drive

 to dream out loud, to exclaim

         for discovery and not for surprise

and to do so

without

the ogling eye

         of an effigy

who once

was determined

a man

So

until

such a day

breathes my air

I will walk, as best I can,

         with granite ankles

                  making concrete steps

                           across a universe made of sand


Also, proud to share with all the brave poets participating at Wednesday Open Mic with JohnnyK at The River.

Amidst Suppressive Noise

Into a kettle-cloud’s

Deafening eye,

Elapsing; scattered through,

A prism’s dying,

Shaded hue

Vision skewers

Ordinary life,

Impaling the mundane

Cacophonic strife;

Eliciting the strange

A powdered fray

Blurs the node

Unto erasure’s

Threshing code;

Severing mesh from curve

The rhythms of neutrality unnerve,

Heroic monstrosities, bred for night,

Obstructing the pristine view—

Some of darkened gloss; some armored in light,

Each, reminders of what’s in you

Explosions and facades thereto,

Detonations of slander,

Indifferent to the life you bore.

Tearstained shells, forever in wander—

Endlessly trawling jagged shores,

Delicately toed yet forever proud.

        

I was just playing around with structure today.  For this particular piece, I was going with a 25 line acrostic poem, five stanzas of five lines each.  However, the last stanza I wound up using 6 lines, as I thought edited worked better than edits. 

I also used a structured rhyme scheme here: Abcbc, Cdede, Efgfg, Ghihi, Ijkjka.

Crickets

Crickets crashing upon corroding biers

Softly swaying to coarse lit tears

Fireflies light the way

On this premature voyage to immortality

Sanity and sanctity

Positioned just so,

Focusing upon Inherent flaws bred through woe

Of man and man, of man and beast

Different tones play upon,

Each and all, the cords of voice

The quality in chosen words

The action becoming of the strangest verbs

Empathy comes at the oddest stops

Visions of visions shared once but lost

Yet crickets chirped

Just the same

Until, of course, the winter came