I polish ghosts into a golden age,
the past appears the way I need.
Where I reside is carved on the page,
walls erected outline my screed.
So many names dissolve into the dust,
a lifetime’s work reduced to yellowed ink.
One path is quietly being discussed,
another burns alone beneath the drink.
Stitched a self from fragments within,
a life becomes the story that remains.
Bus rides through the snow become a hymn,
breathing softly in the smallest pains.
Is artistic dedication noble
or just self-imposed isolation?
The mystery is solved inside the story,
but the mystery itself is an illusion.
MUSIC AND THE VISUAL
extraordinary
influence
celebrated
paraphrased
experiments
a discussed
prefaced
leitmotif
illustrative
evocation
translating
literal
juxtaposed
polychrome
conceptions
floating
mirrored
settings
interrupting
transformed
apotheosis
parallelled
as
notional
utterances
seemingly
unbounded
imagined
superiority
extolled
narrative
embodiments
edifying
emotive
discourse
of
intrinsic
harmony
The morning light spills gold across the floor,
Yet shadows linger where your laughter stayed.
The clock ticks on, but I can’t close the door,
For time can’t heal the shape your absence made
The moon-controlled tide continues to kiss sand
It can recall the voice that I can no longer hear
Though thousands of stars still glow above the land
Their beauty falls dim at thoughts of you, my dear
Yet, I adjust my life to live without your voice
We discussed days happenings, nature, God's love
Now life has to be lived, continued, there's no choice
I think of you each time I see those wonderful doves
Grief floods my heart, and mind so many times
I never know when something will of you remind
Me, as flowers you planted without reason or chime
All spring more appeared for all of us to find
Did you know death was near and wanted us to see
You in every place on these acres, which used to grow
Crops; just like you to start planting not stop; just be
Well, I want you to know that your spirit still does flow
INTELLECTUAL CONTEXTS
encoded
anticipated
affinity
emphasised
with
tradition
neutral
collaborative
genres
articular
ambivalent
in isolation
then
deepened
with
representational
certainities
of
avaliable
choice
oscillating
intensely
collaborative
reclusive
concepts
circulating
sessions
to
celebrate
.significant
issues
temporarily
transcending
the confrontational
discussed
yet
introverted
amorphous
expatiations
anticipate
aspirations
in performance
At the grand old Springtime Mingle Fest,
Folks arrived all groomed and dressed their best.
One wore stripes with dots,
One brought fifteen pots,
And one came in pajamas for “comfort and rest.”
A banker discussed gourmet cheese
With a pirate who sneezed in the breeze.
A poet nearby
Recited to pie,
While bees chased a man through the trees.
A lady named Myrtle from Maine
Danced wildly like runaway rain.
She twirled with a mop,
Knocked over the punch pot,
Then blamed it entirely on Spain.
A shy little fellow named Clyde
Tried mingling but mostly just sighed.
He smiled at a chair,
Spilled soup in his hair,
Then proudly announced, “Socialized!”
Two cats crashed the gathering hall,
Ignoring good manners and all.
They stole half the fish,
Licked every dish,
Then napped on the mayor’s best shawl.
The music grew louder at nine;
An uncle attempted to shine.
He moonwalked too hard,
Fell straight in the yard,
And rose saying, “Just part of the line!”
By midnight the minglers agreed
That chaos was all they would need.
For though things went wrong,
They laughed loud and long—
And friendship grew faster than weed.
young man with an employee badge sits in chair next to me
we are not two feet away from each other
I try to make eye contact, but he never looks up from his phone
There would have been a time when we would have made eye contact
Said “hi”
maybe smiled
those days are gone
Hospitality has been thrown into a ditch and buried
There would have been a time when we would have said “hi”
Gotten to know a bit about each other.
Discussed possible common neighbors, friends and relatives.
This is small town Iowa.
It used to be what small town Iowans did.
It was expected.
Not anymore.
In forward thought John Duns Scotus
taught, who still feared appears to be.?
(In a tiff..De-lete-ists proffered him a cap)
And rammed in your eye a monacle blurred
As blurred can be.!!!
Oh yes' For He penned of a treatise true' And in
The thirteenth century too..Mind you.' A
Foundational claim,its framework right and fair.'
We must invoke it.! For such; we have
only to dare.! Let it be read, on small screens and large, be discussed in city plazas, and even hotel bars.'
This affermation of Gods good will.'
To humans He created..With it start your minds to
Fill' marveling no longer at tawdry things.'
Yet walk in this power that sunbdjucates
kings.' kings with arthritis and all manner of i'lls not divine or omnipotent.' Just washed out shills.' Stand on Gods promise
And respect each other." What is shared
Equally cannot be taken if, all humanity
stand by it.' And each other' as eternal
sisters and brothers.!
OBSERVED FIGURATIONS-:-
created
tranquil
contrasting
timeless
emblems
so ENIGMATICALLY DIFFUSED
coincidentally
signified
quotas
discussed
details
with ABSENT-MINDEDNESS
eliminated
literary
output
concentrated
creativity
was just what I needed today.
I got my mom up
out of her chair,
vertical
and I said....
"we are walking!"
I found a big
shark's tooth
two miles into
our "little walk"
and we discussed
little things and big things
such as how many men
screwed us up in our lives
and how annoying children are
whom we love more than
ourselves.
We considered the shape
of water, the receding tide,
and broken shells,
the little lies we tell ourselves,
and the hardness of sand
beneath our warm,
sunburned feet.
I rediscovered
how much I love
my mom today,
on a whole other level.
Her first name is Barbara
and we share the same
middle name.
I was proud to walk
beside her today,
everyday.
Infinity, that's how many times I would of done it again with you,
Eternity, is how long I'd be happy with you,
Blessed, am I to have run into you,
I don't offer much as my hearts been chewed away,
But your eyes, like I told you, make me feel some sort of way,
The gaze that got me lost for a whole night,
I'm pretty sure the glasses can't hide such a sight,
I don't usually open up to girls, the pretty ones I'm quite wary, like we discussed before, love can be scary,
I felt connected to you, more then physically, I hope we can meet again, dear friend, me and you, heavenly
Currently files are being surveyed..The ones that can be seen..Some will prove
To be ' anti-climatic ' i have no doubt on
That.' Some will have harmless content !
They will be discussed as the wars keep
Going, as the unrest bubbles and is reported on by.??? Well the same outlets
Letting us know there is not much that
Bad that happened.? Its helpfull that the
Sounds of rockets do not interrupt our
Train of thoughts..As we contemplate the
Fact that things may well be overhyped?
Like in twenty twenty btw.' I just cant seem
To remember? Who the culprits were.? Was that a war maybe? And if so upon whom.? Thank heavens we have a great information system..Is all I can think.? Oh
Yes another bill to sort out.' Must get busy
With the real imoortant stuff.'
Every time I heard her cry
I would come barreling down the stairs
ready to square up to him,
both of us fuming on the edge of a fight.
As a child when you have yet to experience
the infinite pettiness of relationships,
right and wrong both have their pitfalls.
Parents had their cat and mouse games.
Father was a good man made weak,
worn out by doing the best he could.
Their battles were a joust,
their fighting had rules of engagement,
indistinct battle lines,
hard for a boy to figure out.
Boys and their mothers also have rules,
they agree to die for each other,
but how and when are never discussed.
It makes me a better person
It's on my CV and I bring it up in conversation
It means I'm in tune with everything
I've discussed it in the kitchen,
Loading the dishwasher.
I cried in the basement thinking about it
I told a colleague at work that
I needed to talk to somebody
She asked if I needed to step outside
I stepped outside
I weeped on the steps of the building
I finished a can of sparkling water, then crushed it in my fist
The viewing platform for the harbour
The barren country road
I message my opera friends
They're out at an event hosted by DJ Anxiety
We are all crushed
Discussed the importance of
using the image for
self-gain.
despite the fact these abject mouths
run to no end, mimic cracked
pipes or leaking faucets.
Pocket holes drift , shaking
the gaseous currency watches.
Money quick-dry quick enough without
the drought to help it out.
Drowsy and Half slept,
put out long enough for me
to know how to hit and shuffle.
I been up and down and
all around this block and
still have a good night.
This day takes wet coals
across namesake.
I’m not impressed with threats
unless they are held up.
Even worse they kept up.
I ceen't it.
How about you prove to me?
Prove to me in the asphalt that
it’s not your ass fault?
Prove it?
Do it. Can’t?
Laughable, I couldn’t imagine
being a man to cultivate
a trifle ingrate .
sheer confidence oozed out of the queen of red
her enemies cowered, some slunk off in dread
her super power abilities were known throughout the land
She could throw lightning bolts out of her right hand.
What is the deal? She asked the wizard of mean.
He scurried away like a rat, fleeing from this queen.
Two other villains discussed how to take her on.
I’ll distract her, said a gargoyle named Simple Don.
Simple Don got tossed sixty-two feet up in a tree.
He screeched and wailed, for she had torn up his knee.
The queen of red had skin that began developing red hearts.
Like symmetrical, tattoos, flashing about two inches apart.
What is she doing now? An evil ogre wondered, scared to death.
Before he could get away, she renamed him Dead Man Seth.
He wailed and screamed, getting away, with both of his ears.
As he left the forest, the good animals clapped with cheers.
Moral of this story is to always keep hope from the start.
For inside of you may reside a Queen of Hearts.
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