Coalesces Poems

Vestibulocochlear sympathectomy

Only point to matter is the fulcrums peak.
As pivotal, the equilibrium we seek.
Critical mass tipped to offset sum.
Heavily shifts the weight of outcome.

Impressive pressures impart fractional distresses. 
Coalesces into convoluted messes.
Broken focus binding fixation to disrepair.
Unified in the disconnection that we share.

Snapping in concert to the beat of your clique.
Adversarial dependency, "it's them who's sick".
Blind fidelity illuminates obscured perception.
Signals interference scrambles any reception.

Contrary dispositions act to characterise.
Spectrum of identity compelled to polarise.
Modalities of agency subjectional by nature
Parallel accordingly by acquisition or endenture.

Soul Speak

Sans mind and body— who am I?
Nothing, nada, no one— I am not I, 
      Sans brain, I am mere flesh and bones 
      Sans body, a graven image in stone; 

But mind, Ah mind, is of another kind 
Perceives the secrets of God of a supreme kind, 
There’s no concept of the soul without the mind 
The mind coalesces with the soul to find 
The sense of self, the concept of eternal mind— 
It’s the seat of human consciousness 
It’s a sight to see your way in darkness.

Inconceivable, indescribable, transcendental,
The concept of the soul is not merely accidental.

Yggdrasil Salutes the Sun

She raises her façade to greet the dawning sun;
Yggdrasil a goddess, the empyreal one.
Tree of life, tree of hope, in sunlight’s kiss;
nurturer of the winged, in ethereal bliss.

She births her children with or without light;
nature’s sacred, matriarchal and wizened sprite.
Fronds of green, adorn her brow while
varied lichens are sprouted on boughs.

Nine worlds she guards, this venerable soul;
nine worlds her gasp will forever hold.
Concepts held of cosmogony;
concepts of origins of anthropogeny.

Symbol of the great of visica piscis;
a link of Tetragrammaton devices.
A soul is born of spiritual essences;
into many lives, existence coalesces.

Fractured Lands I

In impressions:
I reflect...
my expressions retract...
In composite cycles
I react...

Burning optics of set cycles 
Spins
Around
Falling
Down,
Swirls, twirls to a stop.

I see lightning striking the ground.
Echos of reality
Excite liquids lights of delight. 

Nanoseconds of thought, interact...

Spun perceptions like spiders at night
Memories are snared here in moments of silence 
Of treason and crimes
Impressions die in optic’s artificial dawn 

After the flesh, countless dry desires, expire...

In melancholy's pyres
Histories are burned to ash
Blow in endless winds of creations
Silent raging storm
Expression of birth and images die.

All bleeds at the edges of space
Crashing into star stuff.
 
Falling, buried in dead flesh
sunsets in a sea of oblivion 
Faces awash in red flaring sand
like a car rusted machinery’...

Optics react
Date coalesces facts
The images blur
Information Redacts!

As I walk along a lonely path
                             …into oblivion...

to the edge of the sea, I emerge…
I stand and scan a Fractured Land.

A Sunflower Sun

A sunflower sun blooms high in the sky;
sowing its rays on the sand and the waves.
And seagulls assault the air with their cry;
as crabs dart in and out of flooded caves.

Their orange carapace, in stark contrast;
crabs seek algae as the mud flats expand.
And chase the tides, relentless and steadfast,
o'er coral shards and alabaster sand.

As a moist mist coalesces offshore,
fog swallows the sun, consuming its light. 
And its face isn't visible anymore;
till brisk breezes disperse this ghostly sight.

As the heat of Sol's rays intensify,
a sunflower sun blooms high in the sky.

Peter a Birthday Gift

Peter (a birthday gift)

having not met in this reality
knowing him only by words
and the images captured 
like still painted souls
in the magic box
I am free to dress him
in whatever thought 
captures, as still life
in my bag of words.

scent of wind  and heather
precedes the form as it coalesces
from the fog of imagery
rough coat of tweed 
in blues and browns
carries the breath of gods 
from distant times 
the song of the carders
the slap of the shuttle
as it wends its singular way
between the fibres upon the loom.

he fills a room with presence
hilarities tumble across the threshold
laughter greets all gathered there
and mystery follows close behind 
tagging at his coat tails
impatient to be etched across
white sheets of memory
yet like craggy cliffs his brow descends 
when deep in thought, 
far away in times unwritten 
searching for his grail.

Shooting Blank Verse

We met in rage, incarnadine fury,
meandered, then, became tenacious friends.
From wary circling hearts, we took the chance,
we joined our hands, we spun in place, we laid
a spiral architecture down, we formed
a spring, mosaic metal, powerful
enough to shoot us through life's remainder.

Our kids launched off, angelic, ravenous,
diaphanous, eloquent quintessence
of you and me, the luminous javelins
so deftly thrown, that hit the lustrous mark,
where they began their own soliloquies.

So placidly we now relax, with love,
For azure shards and lyric gleams we seek,
the moonlight in our glade, mellifluous
in all its soundings, serendipity
of sylvan lore, ephemeral saffron
at birth the lunar light, it shows your face, 
it coalesces inception's recall,
I see you as that first explosive day.




December 6, 2016
For the 'SHOOTING BLANK VERSE - Poetry Contest' sponsored by John Lawless.

Obnubilated Sky

Myriad of stars
                                                In obnubilated sky
                                              Coalesces the charm
                                              With incipient rapture
                                             Enthralling a great story














3-16-2016

Libertarianism

Quantum mechanics proves that we can be put back to,
Particles, atoms, matter and gas by physical reactions,
But such indeterminism was fought by C S Lewis boldly,
Who used capitals mid-sentence for personifications.

He wanted to personify morality and the virtues,
So said Right and Justice to detach the judge,
From the justice, from the boyfriend or the neighbour,
So that from Hawking we would in some way budge.

But libertarianism contravenes philosophical necessarianism,
By forwarding that we all have alternative possible actions.
Says we’re not predetermined by prior events and engagements,
Through a divine agent that coalesces and notions,

That truth is out there is a fact, out with our command,
But truth is real, essentially original, humanly discovered;
A god cannot call it or claim its curvature or inception,
Because an agent would make our interpretation blurred.

Truth is not solely objective, bestowed supernaturally,
But is a human relativity which we believe, tell or embody;
We all have our own being which can reap desolation,
Or liberation, if we choose to personify it for somebody.

Summer of Love

SUMMER OF LOVE

Torbid lake

Serene shrill

Stillness; opaque

A furnace of a summer

Rumage through the trees and foliage

Rake and sift nature, for a selfish sake.


We all lose blood of our ancisters

We all lose in the end.

We all keep this sacrament in secrecy.

We all do nothing. Void of intent.


Weather of war.

Patriotism in cloth and bigotry

Uneducated enemy. Unhealthy lifestyles.

Unafraid, because we remain unaware.

Remain in denial.


Seasons change, climate coalesces

Geography is slowly rearranged

As is my focus on something new and strange

A focus on a dot to obsess


We all have reasons to run – to regress

We all hide.

From each other

And ourselves.

Operating At Zero G

Operating at Zero G

As cosmos coalesces with the universe
Lights out at space station four
Meteor storm exaggerated its orbit
Plunged it into brilliant dark
Surgeon lost his grip on scalpel and will to cut
As he floated from the operation
Down the hall with nothing on his mind
Patients convalesce and wave good-bye
Touched only by a will to live in space
Astronauts knew not what to do
They too spun away 
And prayed for better weather

A Dreamers Dream

A Dreamers Dream

Yesterday – a force that sends fragmented pieces of dreams
into the waking, fragile, waiting arms of today.
Today – a receptacle that coalesces these flakes of reverie
into images that reach out to solidify one’s future.
A Dreamers Dream.

What are dreams anyway ?
They are but fractured reflections,
pieces of one’s daily / nightly journey
throughout one’s adventures upon this plane.
Except, of course, those few derived from a psychic nature.

Dreams tell a story of history.
Dreams speak to us of our hidden emotions.
Dreams show us the true nature of our desires.
Dreams will carry us through the tumultuous times.
Dreams will become the comforter, masquerading in riddles

B. J. “A ” 2
October 28th 2013

My Cue

A dark. unfathomed emptiness 
swirls and coalesces 
on the stage of my desire,
demanding nothing sired of need
or advocate, and of itself complete.

Yet I may own the unexpected certainty  
and find that it is known
without a thought,
through just shy glances
as one moves inside the self.

It is an unpretentious wisdom, free
to fly upon the cliff winds,
turning toward the sea again,
above the crumbling decades
with their votive candles burning still,
above the shouts of triumph
just beyond the tomb, and yes,
more sacred in its wordless legacy
than that enscrolled
from any prophet pen.

At length, It was the little man 
inside the prompter's box
who shook his head, and said
to watch your little universe go by
for still another dallying spring.
It isn't yet the denouement,
not yet your time to sing.
                   ~

Mazes

The sun closes in on itself imploding.
Storm clouds clots like cream.
The sky tinged a rancid yellow of dream
raises tornadoes like totems scolding.

A wet haze weeps through the pine trees
furthering the sky’s somber malaise.
Life, a missing actor on the stage,
the rare and ripest red of blood, ceases.

Yet, the bole of trees carved, coalesces to form
the winged memory of bird, man and bear,
letting all of those who have forgotten stare
upon the aged markers of clans long gone.

And so life, death and the day end eternally glazed
making way for rain-bowed hues within the maze. 

Poet: D. Guzzi
Date: 8/13/11

Sunset

Day's royal blue canopy fades into the outer recesses of space and time
As hoary sun sheds its fiery cloak for a deeper hue
Gilding light retracts its flaming parasol to horizon's edge
Last burning ember coalesces into a patchwork of glowing cinders       
Shades of bright yellow diluted into coarser pinks, reds
Twilight kisses Helios' parting rays filtering light through a dispersed prism
Diffused light obfuscates glaring shadows and richer contrasts brew
Harmonious band of colors blended into the melting pot stew
The parade of colors christens the solitude of tranquil eve anew
The plush canvas emanates an aesthetic charm refined love to imbue
Linking mortal bonds to eternity's immutable chorus of beauty and bliss
Nocturnal creatures spring from lairs and croon chilling anthem to the blazing panoply

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