Posted on 11/24/2003 9:52:48 AM PST by January24th
confession
naked
offered up
to charcoal and conte abstractions
just enough truth
in the line of the moment
to render a sigh
angles
and shadows
unfinished
completely revealing
so much that isn't there
and I am left
to fill in the blanks...
Title as prologue ,
Law and order, CSI
Miami. Vice and
other wise,
Seinfeld sitting in the jail
mini mouse and mickey fail
to undo the cartoon hex,
De minimus non curat lex.
The truly humble understand
their arrogance to be
both arresting officer
and judge that remands
them to the custody
of their own company for
indeterminate sentences
which is justice of the sort
that ends everything in ellipses.
I can’t think of anything to add…..
I only get to use the computer
when I am in the library working
on my case.
*confession* I really liked this one. A lot.
Drawing from life
The camera doesn’t lie
but sometimes its certainty
cannot capture the
shade that hovers
over those places
where we are all
artists
bedeviled by self
deception that
casts our own
better angels as
coercible agents
we blur
The line between
error and
truth in the easily
smudged
shrugged shoulder
of indifference that
turns the naked revelation
into a bearable interpretation
As my lines fade
into the silence that
falls, a shadow, across
a thigh , a face,
the page,
There is the moment
when I must
accept that the only choice
is to leave
the curling question mark
of your body's nude form
to the better definition
that waits for a changing
light.
whistling in the dark
days that follow either
strange losses or
cash out capitulations seem
strung out ,
lacking noise or
a reasonable relationship
to previous passions
or anticipated assignations
resembling in their dry
passage
the stinging atonal
irritation of a tuneless
whistled melody
its mocking cadence
an audible Audubon
of species specific song
which I could imitate
if I wanted to fool
a damned bird,
still, put your lips together
and blow,
and the places in between
here and there become
somewhat more than
waiting but
less than music
an invitation
non-the-less
delivered by
a signal sound
that musters
the individual
particles of silence
into a flocculant mass,
promising to
precipitate
interesting measures
Life is not a neutral
My tom cat
seneschal
has decreed
the household
secure, and then
curls beneath
a tapestry
of cornered lions
dreaming of
his demesne
under the image of
the kaffir spear
that dispatches
in the heroic
weaving , the demise of
a cat caught in the cradle
of strings, that record
feline finality
but he is at peace with the
woven record of the
hunt’s successful
outcome over tooth and claw
knowing that the loins
will prevail
eventually .
off the grid
what manner of heart
binds us in the pain
old and fading
past all
fear
?
joy and pain
what significance
the unstigmaed
two chambered
beating
heart
from each according
acer rubrum
molts beneath
the haze of
full autumn’s moist
glaze of fog and quiet rain
red enough to
commune with the grey
hung inevitability
of authority
but adamant enough
to abdicate to scarlet
the individual
story.
Events coordinator
He has delegated
the oranges to
the appropriate
sections, so that
there can be no
confrontation
with the loyalists
of the reds.
But as usual
there are
not enough
restrooms
for the ladies
of either stripe
who are urgent
apart from the
exigencies of agencies
just the ticket
for those
who can never be
too rich,
too thin,
or too p*ssed.
Moving house
The wind seems
to be the author of
all doorstep invitations
defences or invasions
first responder
to the accomplishment
of change,
an energy of sorts that
follows the vans
the papers and boxes
but still manages to be in place
to greet their arrival.
Three moves equal one fire
a friend once advised me,
and the possibilities that arise
from such tender reminders
of lives, simply
rearrange themselves
while the wind blows ashes
or fans new flames.
Perhaps its notes will
make a new tune.
from the same old stuff,
with better transitions.
as it sings again
comfortably
making its noises at the windows
that wait for new treatments
While teasing the brochures
and catalogues in the post
which still arrive predicably
tho meant for previous tenants;
it smoothes the transitions
between the aspirations
that were abandoned here and
the labels that name
the new occupants and advertises
to their interests
Its something to connect the point
at which the old real mail
stopped, and the new real mail begins
both, perhaps less than comforting
but more reliable than just an old friend.
But the wind of course
is never clear about whether
it is the first thing
unpacked from a box of woes
at a new destination
or what is left when the lid
slams down on hope.
current events
interesting times,
to struggle just alerts sharks
best go with the flow.
floating downstream
who can tell
the living from
the dead?
a dubious strategy,
dying to survive...
?????? perhaps I should have used oaks and willows?
Stand by
frequent fliers know
delays inevitable
roll with it baby.
LOL!!
I assume no responsibilty...
some thoughts
swim cross-current
and random muses
will insist
on their own way
LOL!
free association
is a club with
reasonable dues,
I think
I get what I pay for
how about you?
:^]
Hahahaha!!
giveaways
render no
profit
but
we make it up
in volume
:o)
returned a hundredfold
words cast upon the water
sometimes come back
to haunt me.
Wishing to recall
my generosity,
doesn't work
at all.
One more ping
to my pong
and we'll tenfold
one hundred times
millenium post
approached
without notice
did i get it
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