The Paiute tribes, before they fell*,
were known to use, masterfully well,
copious pumice and obsidian,
found on the alpine meridian,
where the Long Valley Caldera blew to hell.
* "fell" might not be the right word. A little Internet research tells me that one of the Paiute tribes, the "Bishop Paiute Tribe" has a reservation near Bishop California, near the Mammoth Lakes area, where I collected pumice and obsidian as a child.
Standing alone at night on the window
As I look at the bright moon
I think that you would be doing the same
Hope it isn't a counterclaim
It feels like you come beside me soon
I can feel that shiver deep
The thought of not having you around
Surely makes me asleep
My girl longing for your touch
My love for you is such
The thoughts are nice
Just that you are feis Wems
Getting lust overprice; mad oo like you are in love
It would only make things worse and land you in a slough
Make money
It may not give all
But will make romances honey
That's what lasting bond befall
This is a modern era
Love needs it for bond not to collapse in depression like a caldera
Abi na lie¿
Trial, revile, red reconcile!
Crocodile, vile smile!
Roundabout the rising rile?
Pules? Plop on the pile...
Young at heart, O wildebeest?
Ready to get fleeced?
O for gears as yet ungreased!
Not to say the least!
Ululating frenzied?
O banshee, sing thy song.
Xiphoid, clench! O pens, bleed!
Poison, be ye strong...
Long live the generations?
O nations, rise and fall.
Onward, my creations!
Relations? How they pall.
Sickly sweet in summer heat?
Heather-flower, vine.
If your beat is mossy peat?
Wicked is thy wine.
Kine of sun god, where you fell:
Awful was that spell!
Right next door to halfway hell!
Heaven, who to tell?
Knell, pell-mell! O fate, gel! Full!
Sing in all, brass bull!
Gathering crone, forest, thy wool!
How prophecies pull!
Yellow kings in cities old?
Shades of ancient gold.
Cone, caldera, getting cold?
Enter well the fold...
Pain, pneumatic. Sick, my soul.
Hatred, sing in me.
Catching static, Oversoul?
Blind but now I see.
Cone, erupt. Caldera, burn.
Sacred? Nothing. Know:
Tamarisk a-taciturn!
Creation? Hell go!
Fleabag? Emptiness, take hold.
Overflow, toilet.
By God, it's been getting cold!
Heaven, don't you fret.
Apocalypse, come. End Times, go.
Curtain ash, descend.
Falling with an even flow!
Heart within, ne'er bend.
Anger, choke another.
In me you'd want to fly.
Brother, seen thy mother?
No other needs to die!
Tympani, crush. Wargod, beat drum.
Hope, take a new form.
Better dead than live like some!
Hellfire, dark flame, warm.
Train, leave. Empty cars, with death.
Doom, take a deep breath.
Storm, roll in. Wield lightning, Seth.
Zeus, the sea of Tethys...
Dread, dream of tomorrow.
O Death, shadow the move.
Sin, thy light! Blanch to borrow!
Sorrow, what to prove?
Weathervane, by lightning struck.
Are you out of luck?
Antlers, justify the buck!
Night, wind, run amok...
Anger, boil within my veins!
Justice, I invoke!
O ye prisoners, break thy chains!
Egg, devour thy yolk!
Torn open, O resting place?
Sounds like a disgrace!
Poison, best to speed thy pace!
Cone, caldera, case...
Autumnal the colored leaves.
Red run roll reprieves.
Corn stalk, indigo, thy sheaves.
He who fights believes.
Gifts of gold and silver?
O riches, where to find?
Ask the huntress! Fill? Fur.
Somewhere the sun shined...
Dark fire, bloom and blossom!
O belladonna, brain!
Pain within us, play possum!
Downward, my disdain...
O parachute, thy rider.
How to keep one aloft?
Spread thy edges to defer!
He who squatted coughed!
Unity, sing in unison.
Each louder than the last?
Vittle, side with venison?
Legs in traction plast!
Thus refuted, O my rock?
Lines around in chalk.
Broken is the bowl, O block.
Corn, thy tattered stalk.
So you've been feeling stifled?
Just flicker as you fall.
Soldiers, how you rifled!
O banshee, how you call!
Ghoulish was the repast grim?
Crater, nurse thy rim.
Light of harpsichord, draw dim.
How about her or him?
Rain on us, O lightning!
O thunder, now to roll!
Fain would it be frightening?
Soak in gin, my soul!
The cone or the caldera?
What kind of choice is this?
Ergo, O my era...
O death gods, blow a kiss...
Unmet expectations strike hard,
hurting where they languish long.
Unkept promises are blows earned,
hitting where they find no resistance.
Unkind words are slashes harsh,
ripping through the calm conscience.
The dormant volcano within the soul
then gets the upsurge of melted psychic mantle
in the crust of brittle tolerance,
that collapses in the caldera cradling the vent,
reaching the magma chamber in the core.
The soul erupts the lava in the wild,
burns the gentle patience as it flows.
Uncontrolled, it blazes the heart,
undowsed, it singes the sane senses.
The smoke billows up thick and intense,
clouds the deranged essence.
Words rise like Sphinx from the toxic ashes,
perish the patient face of mental restraint.
The flame surges in the stream of neurons,
no longer the carrier of conformist signals.
From the volcanic inferno of the soul
the erupted fiery lava called anger flows
in the torrents of blistering words,
scalding whatever comes in the way,
blazing a furrow for the reticent life.
Santorini, a stand out beauty, a splendor in the sea, a semicircular
Cycladic island in the Southern Aegean Sea with dramatic caldera
landscape so unique, crescent shaped, offering breathtaking views.
The famous whitewashed homes, structures with some featuring
glowing blue domes, cliffs falling into the blue crystal clear waters
of Aegean Sea, spectacular sunsets of dazzling kaleidoscope of colors.
Sadly, located at a fault zone with tectonic activity causing tremors.
Serenity lost in a tempestuous cloud
Wailing to the rumbling thunder
as darkened skies were painted in cinnabar.
losing its crown to the fleeting rain
Dew flooding from the gazing moon
Singing sophomore to its pitch
beat by beat, a daily homage
To the dancing audience
spilling beans, running cats
screaming of the hidden fury
Buried within the heart's rubble
furrowed its brow in deep thought.
Hot lava spiraling in the heart's core
Spritzing from its mouth
burning all along its path.
Till flow lost its source
calm the noise.
Listen to the silence.
Wrecking the pot wide
like a caldera from a collapsing crater
scars forever visible.
stealthily hiding behind gray white mists
wispy smoke rising heavenward in twists
within caldera red hot lava boils
menacing flora, fauna and topsoils
beware if ground beneath feet starts to quake
creating distance the best choice to make
don't count on Planet Earth being your friend
always has potential to bring our end
please try not to take it personally
planets must do what comes naturally
do not expect any introduction
even for events of mass destruction
universe does what universes do
adapting to the results falls on you
Clothed in fraud,
his disguise supreme
Frightening listeners,
confusion schemed
His world inside,
a caldera waits
Armageddon trembling
—the hour late
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)
Deep and blue, fearful and enticing.
The eyes of beauty, falling in the looking,
lost in the depth, that reaches the soul.
Love is destiny, at a time and a place,
to meet, to offer the heart, to submit.
Looking deeply in the eyes of each other,
even over the sweeping and long years.
A litany of wins and losses, to be shared,
but in the end, a look into the face of age.
Yet with love, those same enticing eyes,
capture my heart, even a lifetime later.
A caldera of the bluest joy, smiling at me!
BEAUTY ATOP AN INFERNO
The dormant volcano asleep for a long time now,
collapsed caldera cradles crater lake on crust deep.
Dark andesite rocky lofty rim draped in shining snow,
on piercing trident peaks the hues of cerulean sky drip.
Hot channel reaches the lava chamber even hotter,
a dome of island perches on tip of fiery volcanic vent.
Its reflection is a cool deception on mirror of still water
that feels the tender touch of sprouted fir in rows verdant.
The coverlet of crystalline snow on the side slope
shimmers like crushed pearls in winter crisp sunshine.
The upright jade pines stand erect in line holding the hope
snow won’t creep, shove them to blue lake down the incline.
Transparent azure water shapes sapphire crystal face,
allows to deep scan the quiet mind of the latent volcano
and wishes in a state of deep slumber it permanently stays
because waking up it’ll destroy scenic beauty it doesn’t know.
January 13, 2019.
Fire and Ice
The caldera collects and cradles a
Beautiful, deep, impenetrable blue lake,
A beautiful mirror of fire and ice
Harmonizing, a wannabe visage.
Snow uses caldera’s crater for its frame,
Covering it and breathing icy air
To ruffle the tops of old pine trees,
Shaking their patience with a whizz.
Snow slithers, frosts, and shrouds
The dormant island in white blankets
To show the caldera and sleeping fire
The thrill that crowns its Ego
Resounding about the unfazed lake.
The dormant island enjoys its nap
Exhaling gases to shoo the snow away
To play with the lake.
Life of a Flame
By Brett Somers
Arched over its wick,
calmly swaying,
now moves with a flick.
In this moment,
it lives,
a hot yellow flame,
so soft, so beautiful,
yet intense,
powerful.
And rides above
a waxy caldera,
feeding from
its waxy lake.
A bouncing flame,
jumping with life,
pulsing its glorious name.
Pure energy,
pure light.
Why do I feel
this
flame has something to reveal?
If I could see my soul,
would it glow
with such brilliance,
such pure essence?
I stare,
transfixed
And when I choose
to let go of this muse,
with breath,
I let it go.
And in the darkness, I sit.
Flame,
remains for a bit.
A star grows dimmer,
into a faint glimmer.
Soft wax cradles
and firms a base,
for the wick’s embrace.
It quietly waits for another day,
to come to life again,
to burn its brilliance on,
until the wax is gone,
until the wax is gone.
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