Month: October 2019

Stools

  Closed:
 quiet respite
 without demands,
 propped seatside down 
 on a marble floor,
 the night’s memory mopped clean,
 and free from the weight
 of butted burdens;
 
 resting
 with the good intentions
 of another day. 

Silent Narrative


 A silent narrative
 underlies her humanness;
 her every action 
 an overflow of flimsy meaning,
 every response 
 choked with blather and woes.
 
 No escape of disenchantment
 from the vaporous mist 
 of her consumption.
 
 Lacking spirit
 and amazement,
 she closes her eyes
 and shaves her head
 to ward of perplexity.

 With weary eyebrows
 and caterpillar lashes
 she paints herself
 for war against
 not enough; 
 to feel alive,
 to truly matter,
 yet is cumbered
 in the cheerless gravity
 of discontent
 that never fades away.

Porcelain Dolls


 Bear leans over 
 and tells the porcelain dolls
 a dirty joke.
 
 Mythic perfection of
 their rigid cheeks,
 painted blush, 
 radiates the fragile aura of love;
 their giggles disguise 
 their ruffled discomfort.
 
 Self-possessed, Baldy sez:
 "put a lid on it Teddy,
 we are to be cherished
 and require protection,
 not titillation."

Discourse of Enchantment

 
 If the discourse of enchantment
 is most heartily encapsulated
 in the prosperity message
 of today’s megachurches,
 
 the program of action is to
 mitigate the social cost
 of adjustment, which
 rapidly depreciates that display -
 a syncretic zodiac of variant sentiment.
 
 Deep mythological resources charged
 and ultimately
 unsatisfying eschatology;
 traverses space,
 foreshadowing the demarcation
 of time.
 

 Fissure - just setting in
 vicissitudes of characterization,
 of horizontal archeologies
 and spatial aggressions.

Unseen Forces


 There are unseen forces that oppose
 motivation and seek to douse
 the flames of inspiration.
 
 Sirens sound,
 waking up the dead;
 thieves are on the run,
 self-deprivation seems
 both a cosmic effect
 and an ethical imperative.
 
 Memories are fragile; they 
 invariably slip away,
 are easily destroyed,
 and as you know,
 motivation can be elusive,
 absorbing the potency
 of the cosmic shift.
 
 When you add information,
 it becomes ambiguous;
 an odious atmosphere of tobacco, earthly morality,
 and pickles,
 connoting nothing pejorative.
 
 The difference between knowingness
 and knowledge is only
 the echo of its source;
 this deliquescence into a
 comprehensive resonance
 is, like the slow
 beating of a giant’s heart,
 a declaration of ignorance.
 
 Inhabiting a world of their own
 the waitress grabs the old coot,
 and with some music
 and bogus spiritualism
 she licks the last of
 the whipped cream
 off her fingers.