"The Vagaries"
You could go all Zen over Me,
I’d listen studiously, then, spit it out
like cherry seeds for integration
the flesh of it all,
"The Past", savoured;
"The Future",
for lame time-wasting
poetic rebels pretending
to be connoisseurs, parlaying -
"The Now", struts irreverently,
dealing its Bolchevistic
cards
and there sits You,
holding the mirror for Me,
expelling Your koans let loose
the sound of One hand clapping,
without the other, but still
you hear it, the sound
Love,
swimming
through the vagaries
Integrity,
Love is
holding Her tight
vagaries
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"Birth of Venus"
The yo yo
bleeds and bends
a life haunted by ghouls
green nymphs
blowing pixie dust
kissing bottom
a donkey’s soul
tight rope walkin' -
all for love
trust
is the pill
swallowed
suspension;
addiction,
the lies laid
believed in cut perfection
the trapeze drop
plays purple rain
prisoners
seeking sanity
the windows close
out the world
eventually
what lives in sleep
comes to collect you
flame throwing its creed
sparkling angels
drag their smiles
fresh scarlet stilettos
legion
playing
violins
Botticelli reaches
for his pearl
rising from a new ocean
naked virtue
clean living
on a clam shell
birth of Venus
eyes smiling
irreverently
not a word
spoken
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"Ison"/Sevdaliza
https://youtu.be/znV9KDsNtXY
pixie dust/angel dust/purple rain.
Bottom/Midsummer Nights Dream.
Botticelli/Birth of Venus.
https://www.widewalls.ch/magazine/the-birth-of-venus-botticelli-painting
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nick_Bottom
I stand on the brink of tranquility
A short distance from out-of-touch,
Surrounded by chaotic disapproval
All around me swirling in confusion,
Wondering whether truth has died--
[sacrificed on the altar of popularity]
When it was irreverently interred;
What it left for the next generation.
And did I let it die a tortuous death
Unwilling was I to shout it out loud,
Facing down jeering of the crowd?
‘Twas easier to retreat into myself,
And deny the current state of affairs.
written November 26, 2021
the winter cemetery
a full moon, gravestones, shadowed dentistry
the snow crisp underfoot
the shadows black as soot
silence broke, I hurt my butt
falling on a shadow hiding symmetry
the winter cemetery
I cleared the snow whence, not intentionally
hells inferno, open
my back I had broken
my flowers, my token
lay scattered over all, so irreverently
They run my neighborhood.
Constant, breaking only for food.
Movement unending, shifty eyes.
Dirty plans, planning lies.
Languidly, they go walking.
Loud. Irreverently talking.
On the weekends,
they multiply. They gather.
Parties abound.
Their neighbors don't matter.
I try to enjoy my tea in peace,
while odd jobs they fleece.
Rolling up and down the street
on their shiny, two wheeled beast.
No apparent law abounds
as they casually make their rounds.
They are a worry, to watch, warily.
Concerned elderly, the youth merry.
No care or thought given fairly.
Maybe I'm getting old.
But, I was never that bold.
Giving hard looks in sleeveless shirt.
Pants torn, face smudged with dirt.
One carries a stick, waves it often.
Tries to introduce animals to a coffin.
Through this I've learned a lesson.
I'll not give into the obsession.
Society calls for me to have a kid.
The hell I'd be in if I did.
I'll watch, instead, their passages.
And stay far away from the ravages
of miniature, pre-teen savages.
-Angel Fatale-
Jamaica, Jamaica, Jamaica now day comes bright
Her white dress lifted over blue legs of mountains
Marbled to the sky. It drank diamond littered night
Leaving nothing but an empty cup, where fountains
Of rivers use to full the bosom of the sea with milk.
I stand under the otaheite apple tree to hear moans
Of things passionate to born again, gossamer silk
Upon the floor, bodies burning with heat: love atones
Best for those surrendered in faith to work and wait
The second coming of the vision and brotherly hail
In rumbles of joy the cart brimmed and keeping faith
Where no bride shows yet, the altar stark and pale.
The virgin honeysuckle bleeds its succulence into joy
And the hummingbird dances irreverently. I'm in love
The way I was before, cupboards bare breasted ploy
Making erect my patriotism. Melted silver from above
Plow the puddles like ancient rain, sperming the seeds
To yield, and yield against the litany of prayers sent
Jamaica, Jamaica, Jamaica aggression to nothing leads
When the bed is fragranced with grass and a condiment
Of everlasting hope. Hard as lignum vitae wood I rise
To embrace my destinyy from you, the solemn wise
28.
So this is the little shop
That you wish to stake your claim
Fill your precious storehouse
With sundries and fame.
So this is the commercial alter
That you pray to every night
Sell your cheap drink umbrellas
Hit on miracle sprites.
So this is the fun palace
That you built upon the sand
Worry not about foundation
Spit irreverently on its land.
So this is your soul’s investment
That you spend hours at play
Kill your own profit
Push eternal life away.
while spreading a nocturne
on your body,
i was stunned :
a cobra stands up !
between us, the storm and fury of a
burst dam was released; i start playing
with the words irreverently:
spiders in the glass jar
staring with big brown eyes, the pubic
hurts, sex and money toast the world on music mania,
engaged in raw deals, assaulting the virgin
art, in nuclear race, mentors shift the legs,
sinner’s statement, was it, it a road show –
a rogue’s dilemma,
there was not enough blood in the veins
of brown skin to stain the temple’s floor,
death will wait, first the public hanging
should begin, sails whisper to the winds,
last survivor of the holy craft
was dead
SATISH VERMA
Resolve irreverently
Every violation of Godly law
Violence attending resistance
Others have failed
Let us succeed
Tyranical rule must be defeated
It's the irreverent soda stain which irks me today
swelling the wood milky white in a ring
and satisfying that place in my brain's back pocket
which daily refuses to be satisfied.
Lipstick on the coffee cup at Waffle House
- it isn't mine.
Daily "free" newspapers wrapped in orange plastic skin
which contain the little bits of chewed life
of people that I shouldn't like to know.
- I don't ask for it - it just shows up like clockwork,
thrown from a passing van with a leaky exhaust.
The mirror making sure that I see the new wrinkle
on my forehead.
- This isn't my face. At least, I don't think so.
and my brain stuffs it's back pocket 'till overflowed.
Soda stains and lipstick DNA and newspapers
stacked with ads for new tires and bingo game
pot luck dinner jubilees.
And wrinkles.
Plenty of wrinkles to dissatisfy my common sense
and tell me that although I'd like a clean slate,
to not be bogged down by extras,
they are there irreverently facing me in the mirror every day.
Someday soon, I've got to clean out my pockets.