Best Convex Poems
For Linda, Freddie, Chan, & others that meant something true to us…
Another departure…
Another wistful teardrop
Embracing yesterday’s candid goodbye
No longer can we touch their physical soul.
But, we
Can keep amnesia’s accented clef at bay
Holding their voice beyond new tomorrows
…
It is the triangle of life’s conundrum
When we slow dance with the arms of Why
The breaths of How
The misunderstood elegance of inevitabilities
We are taught the 2 guarantees of life: Death & Taxes
Yet, only one really means more to us
Within sunrise’s incipience
We hold convex reflections with incandescent sadness.
Yet, time allows opportunity to fly higher than God’s perspective
EVEN through our limited wisdoms
While we cherish
Remember
The Candles in our wind
…
I whisper silent prayers for our friends, family, & colleagues that now SOAR WITHIN!
For they may no longer be in front of you & I...
They are
And always shall be
By
Our
Side
©Drake J. Eszes
I was honored to have Chan on our Stand As 1 show back in March 2014. It was a deeply memorable show. You can listen to how it all went down here: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/standas1/2014/03/16/stand-as-1-returns-wspecial-guest-that-archaic-poet
Categories:
convex, death of a friend,
Form:
Free verse
The “forthcoming” backtracks on dilly-dallied whispers.
They place verbal down payments on layaway,
Incomplete soul mates
Running on muted slow dances
Blanketing their pain
“Oh, how I always wished for your lips against my selfless animosity”, said Nobody.
Another decrepit smile
Pandering arrogant Bible verses,
They stroke heartbeats
Made of blood diamond fallacies
Reflecting upon misery with convex eyes,
Companionship denied,
“I’m so glad you stayed”, said Somebody.
Placating vehement touch,
They ache for petulant innocence
To rock them to sleep
Lullabies venture unto unknown certainties,
Lackadaisical clef sharpens ill-fated tomorrows
They make “love” to invisible yesterdays,
Feeding off strenuous caress
Torn, silky dress
Perpetuating restraining orders in duress
Bloodied retinas blink,
Vexed
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
convex, conflict, confusion, life, lost
Form:
Free verse
I watch your riveting sonatas
Layer decadent truffles
Upon his pupils
Leaking wanton tears
Grasping for serenity
To have epilogue’s slow dance
You latch onto love’s empty façade.
No return flights to your destination.
Where are YOUR wings, angel?
An embedded hunger for him
To treat you like a priceless prayer
But, his knees are too decrepit to kneel in your temple.
Yet, you stay…
…stay
Your freedom becomes latched
Onto tortured leeches
Sucking
You
Dry
It’s the closest you ever
Come
To his flesh
You stare out towards melancholic branches
Cracking in unison outside your bedroom window
Under Gemini moon
A gripping slide of your fingertips
Against convex glass
Craving for encore
Of that night emptiness filled your lungs with lustful whisper
But, now,
Pandora’s Box is your only translator
Held by the skeletons in his closet
With your name written against necklace’s recycled parchment
As the one they blame
For being a silver medal
When will it be your time to shine?
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
convex, life, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Did our Age of Aquarius evaporate,
fail to regenerate,
to resonate,
fall too far short of what our parents
knew we should anticipate?
Free love could not sustain
weak non-violent resolutions against
whatever busyness was for.
Yet, if love invites synergy,
mutual gravity,
and creation evokes compassion's transregeneration,
how could love cost more than free?
How could co-redemption not invest everything
in learning how to cooperatively Be,
free of enslaving supremacist becoming,
free to come together
as ecological We?
Those who stop to count these costs of love,
look for ways to divest of co-investment,
ignoring Earth's mentoring economy
of light's photosynthetic comprehension,
of neutral's dark unconsciousness,
a fog bank evaporating
doubly unbinding timeless spaciousnest
patterned mystery
absent of color
flowing free love intention.
If Time's eternal unfolding presence is 0-dimensional,
and AnthroNature's bicameral perception i
s 2-dimensional line
and 4-dimensioned time
recreating bicameral form with function,
ego emerging from eco,
yang incarnating binomial yintegrity
reiterating communicating neuro-processors
borrow RNA's decomposing 3-space with 1-time prime bilateral dimensions,
equivalent seasons;
Shy winterish Uracil of Universal freely decomposing love
greets Cytosine's full summer-formed regeneration,
as objectives greet their past and future subjects;
while Adenine painlessly springs
for Guanine's lavishly com-posted integrative harvest,
as verbs form fractal-recycling nouns,
verbal con-science revolutions,
relearning Earth's organic language,
by echoing universal polypathic syntax.
Universal Anthro-cultural
verbal power of co-governance
becomes a Left-brained dominant and reductive tyrant,
an Emperor reified of clothes
to cool His naked Ego-thirst.
However,
when power remains integral within co-passionate
climatic health,
co-gravitational integrity of wealth,
synergetic uniting cooperatism,
then naked 1-power conjoins dark yin-time 0-rations,
shy bigendering romantic convex/concave camouflage,
re-birthing this post-millennial
gift-it-forward
Age of co-binary Aquarius.
Categories:
convex, culture, integrity, love, peace,
Form:
Parallelismus Membrorum
The line of people out the door.
The queue that snaked around the floor.
The building's sleek art deco style.
The carpets' faded plush red pile.
The "Coming Soon" in convex frames.
The "Showing Now" and big star names.
The James Bond pose in poster shots.
The tickets from the kiosk slots.
The heavy doors that often creaked.
The seats on springs that always squeaked.
The fan shaped lights along the side.
The screen that stretched up high and wide.
The smoke that swirled inside the beam.
The shapes and sounds of Pearl And Dean.
The adverts that had overrun.
The trailers for the films to come.
The feature that would come on first.
The sudden pangs of extreme thirst.
The usherette's cool ice cream stint.
The fancy names like Midnight Mint.
The expectations in the place.
The action of the opening chase.
The talking scenes that went nowhere.
The plastic cup beneath my chair.
The glance at watches in poor light.
The stunts and guns and final fight.
The seats that sprung as credits rolled.
The exit doors and night time cold.
Categories:
convex, childhood, film, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
he parlayed a condom full of nouns
in bold thrusts of the quill
for the para structuralist cadres
many of them freeway orphans
who won't even read a stoplight
on the other hand
there's a lot of other hand
upon hearing the chimes of midnight
I opened the door
another surprise party
that I knew about all along
arranged by my body building therapist
who was a notorious sadist
requiring humiliation ab astra
went in after my scenario gland
in an act of divine pity
sewed me back up real fast
couldn't handle the pixel rate
the audience shrieked and laughed
it was the great awakening
after the Treaty of Lucky Seven
in which all nations pledged
to honor their accidents and idiocies
as though they were instruments of divination
uh oh here comes my chiropractor
a known mob boss
never found the need to knock
cracked his knuckles at the door
and politely asked may I enter
he spoke 7 languages
and several materialist dialects
and could talk without
moving his lips
many were blamed for
things they never said
a hundred times a day
nothing is uncontained
archaeologists in the city dumps
using a subway map with all the stops
snorted and toiled through Winter
at their historico-revisionist comedy
piecing convex to concave
any idea past its prime is stupid
this is the unfortunate fate of all humanity
nobody really likes change
unless it’s more money
oh I know I’ll never work in this town again
but with a bankroll
the size of a chewed pencil
you get the picture
now buckle up kids
mommy's going to drive a little faster
there's a cop on my ass
and I think I can lose him
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories:
convex, crazy, howl, humanity, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Inspired by Opeth – The Drapery Falls and this entire year…
I sip on Super Mario Brothers hot cocoa cup
Filled with convictions’ drop
From streams of consciousness
Ready to skinny dip into a new plateau
No
Holds
Barred
Ferocity’s grip
Looking upon God’s yesterdays
As He hands me a pen
Asking me what I have learned
…
As days have passed
I slow dance with convex mirrors within glasshouse.
Remedies to my confusion
Thrusting me back to the day
A befriending of cotton candy souls
As we ride against Ferris Wheels with a song
That should never end
Holding hands through rickety roller coasters
Pulling me downwards
Upwards
Parallel to perpendicular resolutions
The square root to pale ghosts
Staring with onyx want
All of their tainted wishes
Were for brighter days
…
As these days pass
I recollect collective smile upon my spiraled breaths.
There should have been more.
There could have been more.
It’s not too late for early newcomers into my atrium.
But, you better have your ticket in hand.
For I have already tasted the scalding broth of disappointing screams
Overpowered in salted dramatics
Please
Just come as you are
Unfiltered
No plastic surgeries are welcome within these heartbeats.
…
As days go by
I continue to dream of tomorrow’s smile
Placing loudspeakers against silenced seclusions
With ONE MIC
I hail to cathedral sanity
Swimming within my stream of consciousness that few can dive into
Without turning their backs
…
As tomorrow approaches
Who will be the spark in our cherry bombs?
To light jeweled, nocturnal ionospheres within breaths of security
And sincerity coated fingertips
Who I ask?
Speak loud!!!
Speak in unbridled frequencies!!!
Don’t wait for another day to go by…
...without me waking up to your sound again.
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
convex, friendship, life,
Form:
Free verse
has a two story part,
a one story part,
a new part,
an old part
and an antique part.
Gables and pediments facing all directions of the compass
Tie all the parts together.
There are some concave outside walls;
There are some convex Inside walls.
The house breathes.
It sees with its many large window lights;
Knowing where the kids are,
Watching the horses kick up their heels,
Catching glimpses of new spring kittens
scurrying out from under the porch,
Seeing with watchful eyes
as the kids ski behind flying horses,
Keeping an eye on the dog
herding the grand-baby away from the corrals.
Seeing the skunks, racoons, foxes and coyotes
slip by as we sleep,
They brace against the winds
as they turn from south to north.
The glass in the antique part ripples
keeping the view in constant motion –
never resting.
The grand antique porch has hosted birthdays; graduations; weddings;
rendezvous and funerals.
Giving sanctuary to many a friend
needing a place to come and sit in quiet for a while
The house takes comfort from the music of a whistle
coming from the workshop.
Then watching the kids go, one at a time.
Then the whistler was gone –
Yet it still holds out its arms and wings and peaks
securely protecting its remaining occupant.
The house suits me,
it is my eye candy,
it holds my heart.
I will live my last in this house
surrounded by my life.
Categories:
convex, happiness, history, introspectionhouse, house,
Form:
Sonnet
Carl Andre - A Sampler*
Convex Pyramide
Carl Andre if Carl Andre then Trabum (1972)
Sculptor - Minimalist then Sculptor - Minimalist if Carl Andre
Carl Andre then The Way, North, East, South, West (1972)
Still Blue Range (1989) then Still Blue Range (1989)
Carl Andre if Carl Andre then Carl Andre then Sculptor - Minimalist
Magnesium Squares
Carl Andre then Copper Galaxy
Sculptor - Minimalist then Trabum (1972)
Carl Andre then Carl Andre then Still Blue Range (1989)
Sum Roma (1997)
Carl Andre then Sculptor - Minimalist if Carl Andre
Equivalent VIII (1966-1969)
Carl Andre if Carl Andre if Carl Andre
Sculptor - Minimalist then Still Blue Range (1989)
Carl Andre then Trabum (1972)
The Way, North, East, South, West (1972)
Carl Andre if Carl Andre then Sculptor - Minimalist
Copper Galaxy
Carl Andre then Still Blue Range (1989)
Sculptor - Minimalist if Carl Andre
Carl Andre if Sculptor - Minimalist
Trabum (1972)
Carl Andre then Sculptor - Minimalist
Still Blue Range (1989)
Carl Andre if Carl Andre
Sculptor - Minimalist
Carl Andre
•
*Googling each prime numbered line leads on and on into Carl Andre's life work.
Mathematics&Poetry—based on the fundamental theorem of arithmetic.
Categories:
convex, art, beauty, math, me,
Form:
Imagism
into the forest if she could. into the forest with dear wood--
if frozen fire stained glass trellice iced into a spiral destiny
collapsed convex on my skin with my love within shattered
into a million pieces fired up inside me melting us together
into a vase of love exquisitely and eternally.
Categories:
convex, caregivinglove,
Form:
The permacultural professional's definition of enculturing math:
Counting and discounting,
multiplying and dividing,
nutritional seed (capital) diverse re-investment guilds
to solve problems of cooperative wealth values
and dissonant pathological disvalues.
The bicameral geo-mathematician's bilateral dilemma:
To get from 0 to 1, (nomial stasis)
one must also get from 0 to 2, (binomial diastasis)
and perhaps best back again,
to simultaneously resolve,
yet never consecutively linear-sequence
in real natural-spiritual equivalent spacetime 4-prime dimensions
of Special Case InFormational Dynamics,
to 1 median, septic and dipolar,
with 0 before and 2 implied after,
whether positive,
or double-negative,
or, co-arising nondually,
both LeftYang (+1) and Right exformatively recessive Yin (-,-)0.
Resonant BiCameral Resolutions:
Exchange Vertical-Universal deductive/inductive interdependence,
co-relation,
co-gravity,
co-arising
with co-equivalent
Horizontal-BiLateral Left-Right
both +1 blank slate, and notnot (0)-sum interdependence,
cooperative Yang/Yin ego/ecopolitical co-redeeming resonance.
Reiteratively enthymeming
cooperatively healthy creolizing
(0)-sum WinWin Communication Intent
to extend 4Prime Basic EcoTherapeutic HealthWealth Fractals,
like our oh-so-regenerative DNA,
strings of bilateral polypathic hypostatic theory
dipolar co-arising
Gaian Integral Hypothetical
co-gravitating dualdark ZeroSum
regenerating prime 4-Base
nurturing/strong reiterating root systems
of regenerating Positive/NotNotNegative
double-binding
self/other perpetuating
ego/ecosystems
echoing convex stems
of bilateral concave dipolar strings....
Categories:
convex, culture, humor, math, philosophy,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The snowbird trees are putting on their colorful autumn coats
Preparing to follow the sun southward
The provincial evergreens are hunkering down for winter
All are well groomed in this spiritual oasis
A gently convex (concave if you are a koi) wooden bridge crosses a pond
The bridge is framed by the textures of nature
I leave my point of view
And walk onto it
Looking down I see koi lounging and strolling
Or perhaps they are wavy reflections of the koi-colored leaves above
I hear the murmurs of respectful visitors to this cathedral of nature
Reflecting their souls
Looking back to where I was standing is not inspiring
Murky
Colorless
Rigid
Perpendicular
Utilitarian
Nature pounded into efficient shapes
Soulless
My office
In which is hanging a window onto my deepest and highest thoughts
A large photograph of an autumn scene in a Japanese Garden
Categories:
convex, anger, autumn, blessing, color,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The mountains of brown covered with green carpet of trees,
When they nod their heads I feel cool winds and breeze,
Every time I ask them to come down, they say no,
All at the same time but how I don’t know,
The mountain peaks serve as seats,
And the passing dark clouds have their meet,
They share their worries for being black,
And shed their tears for a whitening pack,
The cries are loud with copious showers,
They look like beads on the peonies flowers,
Every drop tastes so good,
And the starving arid lands take them as food ,
The land is now fertile and the sapling grows,
As a beautiful pimple young girl face shows ,
From the tender crop to lush green women,
The beauty of which is admired by all breezy men,
Every time the male winds touch,
The greeny women puts her head down to blush,
She dresses herself with scarlet flowers,
And perfumes herself with fragrance talc,
She carries the nectar in her smiles,
For which the drone bees come from miles,
The buzzing honey bees play their bands,
And the pollens dance on the flower bed stand,
The glittering brook sings the song,
And the party goes till the sun is gone,
Now comes the Night lady,
With great beauty and white bindi,
She adorns herself with Lilly and jasmine,
And looks the most beautiful yasmine,
She bends down to see her reflection,
The convex meanders reflects with perfection,
She sings the song of silence,
And waits for her convergence,
This is a beautiful lullaby of summer,
And the nature goes for a peaceful slumber.
Categories:
convex, beauty, celebration, green, joy,
Form:
Personification
Written February 22, 2017
Motivation keeps us dream chasing
Those thoughts that you hold dear to your heart
Until the world falls apart from me missing you
These thoughts of you keep me holding onto
This abstract feeling called love
Now paint a pointillist on a rawhide canvas
On a Native American buffalo drum
But I digress to keep the beat going along
Keep it flowing to waterfalls where angels sing
A song to the siren, listen to her lull you to your last breath
So you thought this was an abstraction of love, not death
But you thought wrong 'cause they're one in the same
It's the name of game when the carousel goes round
Watch it go round, round, and round
A radial diametric where the angles bisect
To prototypes and concepts
From the concave to convex
Do you do it for the money and sex
Or for the only dreamers that we've got left
Yeah you know you've gotta give to receive
This abstract feeling called love
Categories:
convex, hip hop, how i
Form:
Lyric
The community cemetery adjoined
the rear fence-line of his property.
Broad, rolling green acres landscaped
with varieties of shrubbery and trees.
Monuments in lines, rows, and diagonal patterns.
Most of them simple, monolithic.
Carvings, etchings, and brief epitaphs
carved in granite or marble
The stones, like spring's green leafed
trees and fresh-cut grass, know the seasons.
They awake to the sun each dawn; grow
shadowed, docile, meditative at twilight.
Nature recycles around them by annum.
Precious stele' standing their post eternal,
while the invisible substance of air smoothes
each carving and etching ever so covertly.
Mornings he would sit, steaming coffee mug in hand,
reflecting on the tranquility of the sentinel stones.
He envisioned the markers being books
to be leafed through, revealing life
from the mundane to the ecstatic.
A few concave or convex letters and numbers
carved in stone could never convey a person's
full saga in time. The humanity of a life.
Those things their blood had seen, felt, or known.
The ranks of headstones still stand guard.
He sips hot black coffee and imagines reading
the story inside each book of stone;
opening each, as one gently peruses
the pages and content of a rare, precious book.
Books Etched in Stone
5-28-15
Free Verse
Categories:
convex, appreciation, memory, remember,
Form:
Prose Poetry