Far

we run away
no one knows where
even to look for us
the television runs on mute
the phone blinks, its endless ringing
changing nothing
the seconds ticking
the endless cooing
of the night breeze, of crickets
right outside the window
a half moon night
tea running cold in the pot
paint, captive in frames, slowly ageing
it is very quiet
like no one is home
this candle flickering night
flames dancing on the walls
some corner of the earth
where blue algae, glows up reefs
glinting off your eyes
no maps, no watch, no compass
no one knows where
even to look for us
we run away

(Penned Nov 28, 2009)

Uprising

Plush green field

Grass done short

It has just rained

Green as far I span

I step out feet bare

The family pet barks

beckoning 'Come back'

Clouds parting grey blue

A most pleasant waft skims

Chills doesn’t hurt

Each step euphoric soft

I have time cover land

like my feet would never die

Breeze don’t blow me down

yes do

That I fall back

like down a high rise

Cushioned

Then rising

There is no field

I am still smiling

(Penned Nov 27, 2009)

Witchbrew

Plotting ellipses
Into imaginary clay
Rising into form
Into which cascade
Drapes of words
Lazily, in free form
Marinated
Over sleep or waking
Making selective sense
Non-sense
Do we not prize
Such muse incited
Knick-knacks
Of senselessness
Bottled on the shelf
Labeled
Nothing special
Yet something ticking.

(Penned Nov 25, 2009)

The Walrus and the Carpenter (another take on_)

I came across some of my old writings last night. Among the tomes, I found my version of a satire on the classic The Walrus and the Carpenter, this being the longest verse ever written by me. Penned August 15, 2007, below is the same for a browse.

The Walrus and the Carpenter (another take on_)
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were strolling by the beach;
For lack of things to do they said,
"Let's grab an oyster each!"
"I wouldn't really mind two instead…"
"Oh that would be a peach!"

A little distance on they saw
'Most floating on the shore,
A tiny soggy little book,
Like no book seen before!
Sticking out a pair of hands and feet
Confounding furthermore!

Getting closer both, on tippy toe,
Stunned to preposterous stupefaction
Beheld a pair of saucer eyes,
Grinning to distraction!
"How d'ye you?" the oyster said.
"Let us have some action!"

The Walrus and the Carpenter,
Boy! Could they've asked for more?
Swiped napkins out, with knives and forks,
And buttered bread for score!
Flinging aside the book the oyster said,
"Wait! How 'bout a chat before?"

"No harm humoring the lil' chap!" they said.
"Let 'im have his lit' squeal!
After all, we'd have him to thank
For the tiny scrumptious meal!"
"And so how's the beach today, my tiny lil' Brother?
I'm certain you'd clearly see the fun we're having together!"

"I am no every oyster! I'm an oyster Oxfordian!
I thesize, I theorize, on all that’s non-Crustacean!
Euclid, Byron, Darwin and Rousseau, Victor, Goethe
Rest within this lil' brain, the one you're out to eat."
"Even then," rumbled the Walrus,
"It makes for very little meat!"

"I know 'bout your lil' scheme, you clean up beach by beach
Eating brothers, sisters, uncles, cousins, nephews and niece
After every massive shell-shed, what nutrition you derive?
I'm an oyster, I know! This life, it ain't no prize!"
"Well then, why don’t you give it up?"
Gleamed the Carpenter, with marbles in his eyes.

"I have a cause to champion, I'm out to save the clan!
Among every other oyster, there is born a lil' man!
No truer words thus spaketh, I do what I can!"
"Oh stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Do not soliloquize!"
The Walrus in a nauseous faint,
"I need to calm my nerves! Get him to capsize!"

"Well yes," the Carpenter said,
"It seems at the onset we could be headed for indigestion…
This oral voracity suggests great power of suggestion!
We cannot eat you Crustacean Brother! Let us thus seek another,
Who will not throw such a fit of squeal,
So we can digest a peaceful meal!"

"So you still admit that you shall seek, the vagaries of oyster meat?"
"Well, the taste is stuck to tongue! How can we stop what has begun?
But we couldn't ever eat you still! Cross our hearts against our will!
Matter not which beach we go; you your lil' book, we'd know…
Who it is a mile apart to keep; we cannot risk another meet!
We cannot risk another meet!"

The Walrus and the Carpenter
They had their lil' spell;
They were only a lil' hungry;
But they certainly meant well.
As for the lil' oyster
Should I tell you what befell?
 

Note:
In the Western world, it is well known that walruses savor seals while carpenters stick to tuna sandwiches. In this side of the Eastern world there are no walruses. This leaves our carpenters to settle for periodic shots of very strong tea with lots of sugar. Should the kind reader fancy, 'The Walrus and the Carpenter' - the original work of Lewis Carroll can be browsed at http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/walrus.html
 

Strike Four (Jim Morrison)

One single striking aspect, from each of the following four, makes me chose them in particular, for this little collection over the other. 

Star Fish Gluttony
Star fish gluttony
What are the word-forms
for co(s)mic encounter
wedding flesh & mind
in one body
 
He follows a woman...
He follows a woman into the firmament
The solids, sonnets
elaborate requisitions for the god-soul

ah my bright jewelled town
a Widow's band
roping sailors & hill-folk together
congeal on this flat spire
to partake of mineral jets
"he's sick" he should be sleeping
peaceful by air, a movie of dead nights
in a wound, suffer to give out
your red-blue lighter's flame
w/ calm precision
your certainty lives in a match
or a mind
The huts are free evening cliff-dwellers
The trees, losing their variance, die sadly
w/ grandeur
O soft redness & palest blue
like a babie's window
This is the hour you rule
& invite Ventures, quests,
trips to the electric valley down

Times change, damaged
times change, damaged
cat's blood rectify in haste
cactus furrows, wild
thrift catalog of grace

The chase bore inward
raise'd wet & westward shadows
To the strange trust
on the south bow

Augment pure shouter's drawl
& light the candle
Night is comin' on
& we're outnumbered

By the waves, each soldier
bristling w/ his trowel
To search & claim us
Teach our burial

The mind works wonders
for a spell, the lantern breathes
enlightens, then farewell

Each shipmate oars to under-
stand & eyes unoptic strains
to hear:

We came from over here,
to over there

Then old we wonder
mindless to degree
Most seldom furls
in slumber, burns
begins a century

Scour the mind...
Scour the mind w/ diamond
brushes. Cleanse into Mandalas.
Memory keeps us wicked & warm.
The Time temple. Who'll go 1st?
Cloaked figures huddled by walls.
A head moves clocklike slowly.
I'm coming. Wait for me.

Source: Notebook Poems, Jim Morrison.

You're (Plath)

Something I keep coming back to...

You’re
(Sylvia Plath)

Clownlike, happiest on your hands,
Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled,
Gilled like a fish. A common-sense
Thumbs-down on the dodo’s mode.
Wrapped up in yourself like a spool,
Trawling your dark as owls do.
Mute as a turnip from the Fourth
Of July to All Fools’ Day,
O high-riser, my little loaf.

Vague as fog and looked for like mail.
Farther off than Australia.
Bent-backed Atlas, our traveled prawn.
Snug as a bud and at home
Like a sprat in a pickle jug.
A creel of eels, all ripples.
Jumpy as a Mexican bean.
Right, like a well-done sum.
A clean slate, with your own face on.

Source: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=178971 

Con te Partiro (Andrea Bocelli)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcrfvP11Hbo

All in a day's wok

Sighness, her Highness
Vagueness alert

Baroque of this life

Is chase or divert

Time is all looping

Like strings in a maze

Planes are a-swaying

In a salsa-ic daze

Thus set is rhythm

Of pulses and beats

Floors are abounding

With patters of feet

Thrilling is surfing

Across wildest waves

Armed and a-ready

A few hundred braves

This is art and music

Passion and dance

My Dali, Bocelli

Neruda, Rembrandt

Ten whirling dervishes

Ten leaping frogs

Ten soaring rocket ships

Ten rolling logs

Like synchronized swimmers

Or skydivers mid-air

This heart is a-throbbing

And breath is still there. 


(Penned Nov 20, 2009)

Embrace

Clambering like a spider

With comfort, ease, familiarity

To nestle like a rock

Languoring in a hollow

Called home. 

(Penned Nov 16, 2009)

Quiescence

I can never tell you

Too much or too little

Nothing more real than

The bizarre fiction of reality

Spindles reeling off madly

Our kites soar far beyond mangling.

I remain also, bound

to my silences, as they come.

As swooshing ocean waves

Gently murmur

Our world of dialogues such

is only as rich

as your imagination.  

Penned Nov 3, 2009.