SENUALISTA
flickering
fascinations
impressions
streaming
in tactile
textures
vibrant
estatic
emotions
stimulating
improvisations
in
imaginations
exhiarations
through
time
&
space
CONTEMPORISTA koons tombley
imagination
personified
in
One
to One
left - field
e g o
extravaganzas
retro
random
improvisations
realised
ambivalent
tensed dialectical
diatribes
defying
descriptive
critique
The tastes of spring jostle
my taste buds to awaken.
To stand up,
Get poked out on tongue.
Then to flick and lick, from the very tip of my tongue.
Savoring the tantalizing, titillating, tit-bit tastes,
that spring in season, rendered in bounteous bounty harvests,
from berries, fruits, peas, herbs, beans and juices.
Premeditated, contemplated and jazz-jammed
to razzmatazz improvisations and mantras
by scents wafting up the nose.
The five senses,
five essences,
five heavenly scents,
dance and jive
rejoicing in the tantalizing
quintuplet of
quintessential tastes,
that emerge in spring:
sweet, sour, salty,
bitter,
umami.
Golden Crown
Fingers maneuver as a vanishing sun radiates her solar majesty
Heartfelt improvisations momentarily suspended adverse reality
Raging notes racing toward heaven levitating exceedingly faster
Determined hands hammering insecurities sidestepping disaster
Weaving inspirational wisdom regenerate such spiritual harmony
Profound compositions elevate the integrity of human symphony
Revelations exorcizing ambiguities wearing an incredulous frown
Conquering all deceptions destiny searches for the Golden Crown
10/07/2011
5:21 p.m.
Aboard cruise liner:
Splendour Of The Seas
Venice, Italy
Alabaster moon
prodigal with pearlescent promises,
extravagant assurances,
pretends to symbolize
jazzy moon-in-June romance
for young lovers.
Gibbous guitarist plucks out honeyed
heart-string progressions;
passion-fueling improvisations
entwine as two hearts syncopate
to soul-stirring rhythms.
Feeling the beat, tapping those feet
jitterbugging hips sway in sync
towards the dark side of the moon.
Gyrating in a sensual frenzy
of broken dreams,
exhausted bodies execute
a heart-break dance of missteps.
One last mournful note
and the music ends.
I am tied to royalty
the way oceans
are fastened to
moon fluctuations
the way our skin
absorbs sun's radiation
with mathematical
efficiency
producing Nubian
improvisations
from translucent tans
and honey hued browns
to shades of ink
that rivaled midnight
when we opened our eyes
the earth contained starlight
tied to royalty
we made ivory crowns
fashionable
and kings requisitioned
vines for chains
If the moon's pull
causes oceans to move
towards her
My desire must've danced
with my design
before our skin collected
freedom's anthem
Beauty made in abstentia
baptized by indigo
vision, piercing
One hundred years in
our language
started to fade
A cerebral infraction occurred
on the grandest scale
unimaginable
we suffered
word extinction
man muted, forced fed
profits, I wonder
if we'd ever know truth
that didn't involve
"In God We Trust?"
My tongue wants to
form words, my mind
cannot name
Royalty, money laundered loyalty
Wordsmith
Thinking of Emily and Saxaphone Beauty
Such a little thing living at her father’s house
but her words,, such words mispelled though they be
Did she suffer pain and was her brain
filled with seizure meds and other surgeries
I think she fought depression
she fought it to write something that helped her breathe
though the leaves started to die when Fall fell
Then Winter was to come, snow white
still she fought as a slight woman could
subtle and brilliant in spite of it all
made the doctors smile. As they must
sending waves of hope like jazz notes
for those of us fighting the hidden uneven sounds
improvisations playing sometimes solo
boldens us to listen to natures’ song like her poems
Until fatigue finally in the fading sounds
takes a last breath and notes stop
wrapped in nature’s final beauty
and the last saxaphone sounds.
images of self
portraits of people
the unsayable
said-
tracing the why's
and wherefors
from the most
to the least
the eye in motion
released
There are concerts in the sky
playing cosmically on high—
be they grouping in formation
or harmonious creation,
fashioned synesthetically,
astro-energetically,
with conclusion or collusion,
stellar scenes in grand profusion,
gravitationally steady,
starry outbursts brilliant, heady,
like orchestral symphony
from the brass and tympani,
viols, woodwinds, (theoried strings),
to the charms a keyboard brings—
measureless concerti vast
merging present with the past
seamlessly, or so it seems,
as in firmaments of dreams…
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration was from “Cosmic Concert for GAM 2017” which was livestreamed with composer Giovanni Renzo, described as “a collection of compositions and improvisations conceived as a visual and poetic exploration of the universe…”
Inspiration also came from the article, “Galactic Wreckage in Stephan’s Quintet”: “A clash among members of a famous galaxy quintet reveals an assortment of stars across a wide color range, from young, blue stars to aging, red stars.”
First and last, Mom's parasite,
resonantly peaceful tumor
with built in obsolescence.
Then, a moment between exodus
from symbiotic womb
into Earth's promised Eden,
democratic trees for GoodLife
and not autocratic EvilDeath.
Then time to exhale again
one last self-regulating
timeless
fertile eternity,
regenerous nativity.
In between, economically driven politicians
hoping to improve our cooperative tribal improvisations
on Gaia's liturgical soul-dance theme
With occasional speaking parts
after learning deep-listening wholes
on EarthTribe's polycultural
life and death
light and dark
revolving stage
Reproducing embryonic ego-tumors
with built-in obsolescent peace;
a moment between dancing exodus
and cooperatively sung regenesis.
Baggage within
trappings of illusions,
love packed away
in neat little compartments
gathering cobwebs at
makeshift improvisations,
dusting intermittently
if by chance a light
should shine,
never wholly untangling
the snare
mid a labyrinth of
transparent entrapment,
as violin strings continue
to unlatch the same old key
Glasses tinkle and there's a steady murmur of
conversation as the club quickly fills to near capacity.
He sits nursing his vodka tonic, waiting for the show
to begin.
The house lights dim and the stage is spot-lit
as the musicians take their places. Chatter modulates
to rapt attention as the first notes drift into the air.
The band has chosen a ballad, 'My Funny Valentine'
and the familiar strains bring claps of recognition
from the audience. He closes his eyes to concentrate
on the music, pleased they are playing her favorite tune.
The moment is so powerful she is right there with him,
swaying to the rhythm, nestled in his arms,
light as a feather.
It's a long, gentle rendition, almost twelve minutes.
The band takes solos, drawing every nuance from
the old standard, their improvisations bold and fresh.
As they return to the melody the tune gradually
dissolves into silence.
The patrons respond with sustained applause.
When he opens his eyes he finds himself surrounded
by dancers, lovers in each others' arms,
cradled in his own embrace.
...a prose poem
Glasses tinkle and there's a steady murmur of
conversation as the club slowly fills to near capacity.
He sits nursing his vodka tonic, waiting for the show to begin.
The house lights dim and the stage is spot-lit
as the musicians take their places. Chatter modulates
to rapt attention as the first notes drift into the air.
The band has chosen a ballad, 'Stella by Starlight,'
and the familiar strains bring claps of recognition
from the audience. He closes his eyes to concentrate
on the music, pleased they are playing her favorite tune.
The moment is so powerful she is right there with him,
swaying to the rhythm, nestled in his arms, light as a feather.
It's a long, gentle rendition, almost twelve minutes.
The band takes solos, drawing every nuance from
the old standard, their improvisations bold and fresh.
As they return to the melody the tune gradually
dissolves into silence.
The patrons respond with polite and sustained applause.
When he opens his eyes he finds himself surrounded
by dancers, lovers in each others' arms,
cradled in his own embrace.
If you look at life it is an entanglement of garter snakes
Heaps piled together without realising where to start
All of a sudden a head peeps and slithers out smoothly
Problems of life are magnanimously overbearing
The thought of untying the knots can blister the veins
But when you slowly open one knot at a time,
It is unbelievably so smooth that you need to
Flatten that silly, over imaginary bulging head
With a piping hot frying pan! Make use of your brain-box!
Problems and failures are man's best enemies
Failures can wreck our lives and drown us
But when the toughest person gives his rough hand, grab it!
Don't be wary and judgemental whether to hold or not
Rely on your instincts, they're always dependable
When two discuss the same failure together and analyse it
Blaming not on destiny but on minute flaws of the self
Give the broadest smile to work on your new improvisations
Your constructive journey has just begun! A new approach!
The ruthless plans of destiny are not in your hands
But the choices you make are in your hands! Choose well!
FIRST
October 29, 2015
Contest: Life According to Balveen
Sponsor: Silent One
...a prose poem
Glasses tinkle and there's a steady murmur of
conversation as the club slowly fills to near capacity.
He sits nursing his vodka tonic, waiting for the show to begin.
The house lights dim and the stage is spot-lit
as the musicians take their places. Chatter modulates
to rapt attention as the first notes drift into the air.
The band has chosen a ballad, 'Stella by Starlight,'
and the familiar strains bring claps of recognition
from the audience. He closes his eyes to concentrate
on the music, pleased they are playing her favorite tune.
The moment is so powerful she is right there with him,
swaying to the rhythm, nestled in his arms, light as a feather.
It's a long, gentle rendition, almost twelve minutes.
The band takes solos, drawing every nuance from
the old standard, their improvisations bold and fresh.
As they return to the melody the tune gradually
dissolves into silence.
The patrons respond with polite and sustained applause.
When he opens his eyes he finds himself surrounded
by dancers, lovers in each others' arms,
cradled in his own embrace.
Sub Categories
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