Avoiding the girl-scouts
I hasten out of the store
trying hard not to see the people
huddled in their thin coats
as they wait for an infrequent bus.
This ice-chilled evening
with its stark revelations
is like the nag of an irregular heartbeat
sheathed like a thorn in my shoe.
Later, by a warm fire
sitting in an upholstered armchair,
a despondency chews at my breastbone,
it is a reaction hard to pin down,
to objectify,
a lingering presence.
My mind shifts through a symbolic iconography
effigies depicting:
a lost and hungry dog,
an ill-treated child,
a stranger I refuse to call brother,
places long deserted,
places found far too late.
A love unpicked from a now withering vine.
That same presence
sets a table and chair before me
that I may write, try to explain
this tumbleweed of unnamable sorrows,
a phantom, that even in happier times,
I recognize it as a coarse impression
akin to a grating scar
beneath a tender tongue.
Tomorrow may emerge as a frail old lady,
struggling with full shopping bags,
head bent to a cold uncaring wind.
Many might offer her a lift
but in my present brittle mood
I probably would frighten her,
so,
I don’t.
ICONOGRAPHY
contemporary
features
transformed
IN OSTENTATION
resemble
extravagant
flirtatious
SIMULARITIES
overshadowing
symbolic
notions
ABSTRACT
bewitched
astonishment
beyond
belief
unassailable
impenetrable
intense
visionary
elaborate
iconography
explicated
icily
smooth
SETTINGS
spiralling
in situ
eliciting
sensation
dazzling
overarching
narrative
of
aesthetic
ornamentation
suspended
in
reflective
auras
of
tender
gaze
FEELINGS
emotional
intensity
emphasised
attributes
in
passionate
response
of
explicit
immediacy
enduring
sans
explanation
The
sublime
overlaid
in elements
of
tangible
libidinous
fascination
intensifying
the
self-contained
&sufficient
expressions
of
passion
displayng needs
in
an abudance
of
motifs
BAROQUISTA lanfranc rubens pozzo
emotions
in concert
inviting
participation
in
illusions
of colour
to
upsurge
the
spiritual
in
a florid
naturalism
of
uncomplicated
iconography
clarity
balancing
harmony
rendering
movement
of both movement
&passion
superimposed
in
flickering
fervour
ICONOGRAPHY
optical
overlays
tangible
in
metabolic
manifestation
of conscious
significance
refined
in
the bizarre
appendage
of
allusion
to
the infinite
appearance
of simularities
situated
alongside
the aspects
of exaggeration
sequenced
&self contained
in
iconography
Myth of the peculiar pelican
Whose bill bloodies its feathery breast
Feeding blood to the chicks in its nest
Ancient acts ever evangelic
Sole sacrifice for the pelican
Whose beak speaks more than a relic can
36 Words 6 Lines Light Verse
Pelicans appear in Christian iconography
as symbols to verify Christ's self-sacrifice.
Attributions to Dixon Lanier Merritt
(often mistakenly credited to Ogden Nash)
for authorship of the popular Pelican Limerick.
Bite Size Poem No. 16
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Tiredly here I heave
My weary tortoise head
Over the pillow
Ready again,
Not sleepy....
I am
delicate air,
catalyst for
Alchemy
At the turn of clocks
I wonder,
Breath calls
And
I respond to
light of
Lucid iconography
Were I to dream,
To dream
Of making water flow
At the edge of desert days
Content
at
Peace of mind
Remarkable people, leave their mark, on this forlorn world.
The name for them, we hold quite dear, they are known as saints.
We so revere, these folks of love; though they were poor and worn.
These martyrs, we remember, by casting them in stone and paint.
Sacred iconography cannot show respect.
Respect is earned, only by its giving; remember saints with love.
Remember, saints watch from above; to mock them, is to reject.
The saints, they gave a precious gift; they gave their life and love.
These saint have made their mark on earth; passing life’s tough tests.
Respect them well, for they watch over, all souls upon this earth.
They’ll help you, get through tough times; teaching what is best.
For they have learned, hard survival, since the day of their birth.
Every country, creed and race, have their own loved saints.
They’ve lived and loved; cared and suffered; all without complaint.
Milieu iconography with flashing lights
Smokey gambling rooms—gang wars
Flashy suits and fedora hats in the fights
Neon signs flashing—this world is yours
Hey, get a name with the next phone call
Surely, he can’t really be all that rough
While hanging out in a flower shop stall
Like bowling pins fall he wasn’t tough
Whistling “Chi Me Frena?” surreal assassin
As Shamrock night club they all shot up
Coin flipping henchman hell risky brazen
Bang—he won’t sip St. Peter’s golden cup
Crosses on bodies from iconic gun blast
Even barking dog can’t stop the tragedy
Tony’s sister like a baby’s toy dances at last
Just seems like a wild circle of comedy
Wearing a scar as one from the war
Nation’s shame 1932 gangsters shown
Killing people to take over, what for?
Whistling assassin your life is blown
© Joseph, 5/29/08
© All Rights Reserved
Honorable Mention
Super Slueth Contest
Fun Free verse on Movies
Sponsor: John Heck
The event of tragedy blossomed,
That carnivorous wave of terror,
Caromed through the capital,
Down subways and thoroughfares,
Horrified the gaping senses
And surged through the echoing chasms,
The divides of the unholy,
And the gulfs of the unjust.
In a bleak ricocheted wake,
Left no blank resignation,
Or mere shrugging of shoulders
As if cold blooded and detached;
Evolved a unified populace
Grieving resolute and defiant,
As they arched down in reverence
In that two minute silence.
Swelled the dream iconography
Of human souls in mortal battle,
And the blood-stirring prose
Of the old past master speeches;
Fell a faint dust of resonance
Blown from reminisced prophecies,
Foretelling times when the streets
Run with rivers of blood.
Therein the wake of tragedy stung
In the mourning lungs of the living,
Feeling thorny and vibrant,
Tasting earthy and tart;
Instead of cancer and wasteland
The first blackberry roses bloomed,
In the gardens of futures
Landscaped by the past.
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