Incorporating Poems

ART AS A GESTURE

ART AS A GESTURE

a
zest
of
    satisfaction
in
a
    gusto
of
ultimate
certainty

deepens
with
intimacy

of
  accidental
curiosity

inherent
 perception
within
   transposes
emotion
in
the
    miracle
of
our
     disparate
mind

unhindered
visible
    audible
in
the
 tangible

expressiveness
of
outgoing
 energy
       of
tactile
significance


consummated
&
  uniquely
pervading
&
pervasive
internally
   integrated

self concerned
 in on-going
interplay
  of
    expression
incorporating
  past
coherent
awareness
of
  conceived
interactactions
berthed
in expressive
 action
of
awakened
personal
pictorial
   presentations
of
 prior
 experience
in
the
completely new

the Is have It

Impressionable immature imps imprint, improve, and improvise
Incorporating incredible indefatigable independence.
Infusing informed influential infallible infestation
Intensifying interception intermingling intimacy

Elephants and the Splendorous Moon

Bringing branches with their trunks, they start their festival with glee
Swinging silent bells at the pearl sailing in the night sky
Flinging away darkness and dirt, for light to finally see
Singing pearls in the branches, pray to the divine up high

Praying to the ship of fourteen gates filled with splendorous light
Begging the pearl-gathering angels to help them ascend
Entreating the Maiden of Light to continue the long fight
Worshipping Jesus the Splendour, the lord and gleeful friend


Inspired by Pliny the Elder's account of elephants worshipinng the moon with branches, while incorporating Manichaean beliefs about the moon.

Scrolling

My own insecurities ruin everything I can have
I scroll and scroll until I have no energy left
I feel like I’m falling into a void of self-destruction
Everything I do comes to bite me in the end
Any connections are broken when I move to another state
I am in a constant state of self-loathing 
My inner child can’t be healed at this point 
I grew up in a time of screens
And cellphone cults
Watching our life getting sucked away by disease and electricity

I wish I were a true poet
Incorporating meaning into every line
My symbolism saying
The words I couldn't 
But, I’m just a kid who has bitten off more than she can chew
The church says that I was picked by God himself
My father says that I was blessed with many qualities
My pastor says that I am special and my innocence needs to be protected
But how do you know?
I have to come face-to-face with the selfish parts of my heart
I have to meet my sinful counterpart 
But I keep scrolling until I fall to the song of sleep

COMBINISTA rauschenberg

three
   dimensioned
                   facade
incorporating
the 
commonplace
flotsam
    & detrius
of the
         every day
brush
hand
&chisel
       of
          conscious
           . manipulation

Oh Those Boswell Sisters

Some called the radio station demanding they throw them out of the studio.
Others called to brag about their talents, their arrangements, their sass.
Boswell sisters had been singing together since their Vaudeville days as teens.
Connee played sax and trombone,
Vet played banjo and guitar and Martha held down the piano.

They were popular in their hometown of New Orleans, playing with big bands.
Dorsey Brothers, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman all knew them.
These sisters blended “blackness” and “whiteness”, natural for them.
They loved to rework and rearrange popular songs; they were musicians.

They appeared in a film with Bing Crosby and Cab Calloway.
This led to thirteen appearances on the Bing Crosby Show.
Ella Fitzgerald patterned her style after Connee Boswell.
As did the Andrew Sisters a few years later.
The Boswells had a profound effect; incorporating scat, jazz and swing.

Pastels

Nature flaunts a pallet of soft pastels,
She amply applies with an artist's brush.
And like pink sunsets and coral conk shells,
She transforms vivid inks into a blush.
 
Flowers display a plethora of tints,
like periwinkle, lavender, and rose.
And leaves come in an assortment of prints;
how many subtle shades; nobody knows.

Butterfly wings are mobile works of art,
painted in all colors of the rainbow.
These living masterpieces move my heart
and yet, Nature has so much more to show.

By incorporating pigments that bleach;
purple bleeds mauve, and almond fades to peach.

Tweeting the Truth In Love

Tweeting the Truth in Love

By Mark D. Stucky
We should be “speaking the truth in love,”*
posted Paul in Ephesians 4:15,
to speak and act out truth while filled
with self-sacrificial, unconditional love.

Not too-tough truth without compassion.
Not laissez-faire love without correction.

Certainly not rude comments
left on social media,
hidden from responsibility
by anonymity.

Certainly not tweeting lies with contempt,
insulting others with childish nicknames,
repeating falsehoods already debunked,
or disseminating self-serving distortions.

Paul didn’t excuse behavior so deplorable.
Why do so now?

*Note: Literally “truthing in love” in the original Greek text of the verse, incorporating both speech and actions.


(First published in Spirit Fire Review, 3 May 2022. See also my poems "The Art of the Devilish Deal," "Antisocial Media," and “What Would Jesus Tweet?")

(Image by Tina Nord on Pexels.com.)

Arrival of the Crow Oldster

He flew in from the east not ominous by itself, I will abide.
however, our fierce opponents in battle were terrified.
They had heard of the crow oldster, spread by my brothers.
His wing span was twenty-four feet they lied to others.

Screaming was heard from our enemy’s camp when he appeared.
“It is the crow oldster!” Many abandoned their army, so a ’feared.
Grandpa crow thought this was hilarious and threw out a loud caw.
Some of the ones going AWOL did not stop until they got to Omaha.

As leader of the red army, I was delighted to see this old fellow.
With his strut, his wiggle, his giggle, and his eyes full of yellow.
You are doing this right, I assured him, please keep it up.
He winked at me and took a swig from his corn whiskey cup.

“Crow Oldster!” we heard them yell out all night long.
Many of them were incorporating his rep into a new song.
I paid the crow and he flew back to the east through light showers.
We defeated what was left of their army in a couple of hours.

Lil Ole Lady From Pasadena

In but a few notes in the seventies, I recognized The Beach Boys
Little Ole Lady from Pasadena inspired me to push petal to the metal.
I had never wanted to be in California, and now I wanted to live there.
Thanks to Surfer Girl, Good Vibrations, Kokomo, Wouldn’t it be Nice?
I am singing along, with my windows down, my hair flying in the wind.

These boys keep the happy beat coming, incorporating a bit of jazz
California Dreamin, Surfin Safari, Dance, Dance, Dance.
I am surprised to notice I am going a hundred miles an hour now.
Brian, Dennis, Carl, Mike and Al should be paying for my speeding tickets
I still drive ninety miles an hour to Little Ole Lady from Pasadena.

Loves Parade Compelling-

Much I marveled lament a favorite kiss
The beautiful amity a beautiful bliss
And the embrace never-ending cuddling
That moment my soul grew laid
While I pondered wandered wonder romance and shade
What could there be more purely displayed?
Parade
And as lovebirds never coquetting, unbaiting
While we pondered worn and renegaded
You warned me about the shade (once more)
Deep into that finish darkness flaming
All impaired infatuation incorporating
As my whole soul within me shaming
How will I be claiming, proclaiming inflaming?
Love as natural
Compelling gave
Love is a 
Parade


11/2/2022
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©

Configurations

CONFIGURATIONS

 excitment
in gestural
 figurative
emotive
 motifs

highlighted
 moments
becoming
reasons
&
 influences
 of
existential
purposets

incorporating
 themes
 taking stock
events
in
 polar
 opposites
 to ruminate
over
&
acknowledge
imagination
 uncover
see
&remember

so
open
& free
a
collaborative
harmony
as a
 starting point

punctuate
&
entrench
 a
recurring
optical
effect
of
an
unknown

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand

Coronation Day Thorns

One fine day

Starting out on a journey quest

With only good and pure intentions

In your heart and mind

Wanting what is best incorporating
everyone

Be forewarned of the subtle danger
of falling victim of the temper trap

Of awakening having 1 bad day not
long thereafter only to discover 

The very same once fire that stirred
your belly and set you upon your
desire to both journey forth and quest

Has now turned into dragon breath
spewing unfriendly fire

At anyone or everyone who dares
stand in your way or challenge's
your point of view 

Of the world according to you

On your coronation day once safely
sat upon your throne wearing your
crown of thorn's

Infinity

Interesting, isn't it, infinity is in its infancy?
Imagine its incredible, intensive inception...
Intricately incorporating individuals in instancy.
Immortally incalculable is its Inventor's intellection.

7-1-2022
Begin with a letter Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Angela Tune

Ice Age Cometh Moot Point 2nd Glacier

Impossible mission to uncouple accountability,
(no matter minuscule - veritable drop within
figurative bucket when quantity contrasted/
compared alongside industrial waste courtesy
major corporations), yet helplessness prevails
survival (mine) inextricably bound trappings
twenty first century allow, enable, and provide

exploiting even dollop so called nonrenewable
resources, I could sacrifice corporeal entity -
body, mind and spirit within eyeblink exhales
last breath before becoming repurposed - inert
cremated ashes randomly scattered across all
points encompassing terrestrial world wide web.

Obituary -
Despite havoc primate species did wreak
from the afterlife I figuratively speak
and applaud millennials whose peak
performance accorded courtesy
your token "aged hippie," 

mild mannered and meek
and long haired pencil necked geek,
whose disembodied spirit
now volunteers as Halloween sideshow freak
incorporating gallows humor tongue in cheek.

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