Long Clarifies Poems
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Pain paints poetry
Love gives us the victory
The heart breaks through misery
While words are cemented in history
Shadows of comfort will sprinkle your face
Blades of power will hold your mouth
Words of silence can’t escape
The thunderous ploy of your heart
Pain paints poetry
Hearts that bleed are hearts that feed off the weight of love
The sudden shift of emotion illuminates the darkness
The singleness of a passion electrifies the soul
But the cold shift of isolation keeps the mission purpose driven!
Pain paints poetry
You will feed off every abnormality and
Reveal the centrality of all hidden thoughts!
Then after a while you will smile again
Knowing your heart bled because
It was a comfort worth exploring
It was an oddity worth refining and above all
It was a love worth mentioning
Pain paints poetry
Hearts that bleed are hearts that feed off the weight of love
The sudden shift of emotion clarifies the darkness
The oneness of a passion electrifies the soul
But the cold shift of isolation keeps the mission purpose driven!
Pain paints poetry
Mark Frank
Copyright 2022
I apologize at any unintentional
flagitious, egregious,
deleterious et cetera and
atrocious (asper wording),
which accidental faux pas
toward an allpoetry participant
named skypriceireland, who brand
did me with
crookedly unflattering feedback,
and practically demand
did, an explanation,
which hoop fully
clarifies intended feedback,
thus aye expand
utmost sincerity and perceives
how my anger got fanned
when purposeful intent grand
lee and roundly surmising
if the Jesse (un-named child) referenced
in the poem played
an influential invisible hand
as the whims of children
can be so inventive
absent any parental oversight
to inveigle being baited
from kiddie make believe island
a desired outcome, rather
exclaim with com manned
double delight at such un-planned
Hi Yo Silver braying ejaculation,
thus upon this
expostulation I stand.
On last night's news I heard
of an engineer named K_____ who
invented the microchip and changed
our lives. How the chip now contains
a billion circuits which I still don't get
but what I do perceive is this engineer's
(a man modest in pride, fame and wealth)
achievement of Teilhard de Chardin's vision
of a world that is one organism and a single-
minded mankind.
Also mentioned
were Edison, the Wrights and Ford,
oddly not Einstein, Galileo, Copernicus, Newton,
Hamilton or Jefferson, Christ or Buddha,
or the unknown gatherers and traders
who invented agriculture, money.
8,000 generations and each individual
an experiment gone well or wrong, a chance
to respond with love or grief to the universe's effort
to extinguish us.
Family of weasels, young ones playful.
One reference says they're vicious murderers,
killing for sport. Absurd, I think, in the wild.
Another clarifies they eat ½ their body weight daily,
extremely active, high metabolism, hunt all their caloric needs
before eating. And, like the raccoon, ferocious defenders
of their young.
pixel possibilities
This very small image element
is a projection of the computer..
Seeming objects are projected by
let's say: a subjective computer..
Resolution in variation
clouds and clarifies..
These apparent visions of science
assist in our meditations..
Consciousness as the computer
comes first
initiating multitudes of pixel dances..
RedGreenBlue express temporarily
an image made from the computer's
infinite pixel possibilities..
Consciousness contains our life pixels
projecting our low resolution dreams
and higher resolution wakefulness..
Why important..?
Our seeing is beginning to upstage
our illusory focus on those pixels...
“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
? Anaïs Nin
Backup book, Dr. Hudson's Secret Journal,
prequel to The Magnificent Obsession,
lags behind, but clarifies its kernel,
secret key for a medical profession.
The basic skills of healing are internal,
excellence demands good deeds of discretion.
April 18, 2020
contest: Harrisham Rhyme
sponsor: Joseph May
For those who are not familiar with the book:
The Magnificent Obsession by Lloyd C. Douglas, is the story of Robert Merrick who is resuscitated by a rescue crew after a boating accident. The crew is unable to save the life of Dr. Hudson, a doctor renowned for his ability to help people, who was having a heart attack at the same time on the other side of the lake. Merrick then decides to devote his life to making up for the doctor's, and becomes a physician himself.
Douglas later wrote a book in response to the flood of letters he received from readers who wanted to know where they could find a book to which he referred - Dr. Hudson's Secret Journal. The Robert Merrick character decoded the journal, from which he learned the secret of his extraordinary success as a doctor. (According to the book, the secret was the literal practice of doing good deeds secretly, and thereby reaping spiritual power to use in becoming an excellent doctor.)
So I get up in the morning and I think “if I do just one good thing”.
Because just one thing will set the tone of the day, and make me feel good.
So I feed the cat, fill the bird feeders, feed the dog, and start to sing.
Because now my heart feels wonderful, and my day has started as it should.
Just one thing, is my mantra, and it works well for me.
It clarifies my thoughts and it truly makes me see
That one thing leads to two, and hops over soon to three.
And what a great feeling now in my attitude and chi.
Just one thing, I say on Mondays when virtual school stares me in the face.
I do not have to do everything well today, just try to keep myself in place.
Accidents are going to happen. I will fall, and probably not with grace.
But “just one thing” is all I need to get me through this pandemic kind of pace.
For Timothy Lee
I often lose my composure watching you near
for love as a muse stays our passion infused.
My insides ignite, deliciously alive
within sparks your persona designs.
Years of making love have not dimmed
the passion between our her and him!
Each day clarifies we made right choices.
We've bled from our share of thorns, but
being in your arms, more often than not,
is as a comfort bed of silky, thornless roses.
Shared years have not our appetite whet.
Our mutual longing grows stronger yet.
Any day reducing me to bruised or confused
may nighttime heal sleeping wrapped with you.
Love and lust both flame your ardor to ignite
and claim me in sighed, surrendering cries.
Your calloused hands are alpha paradise
on my thighs, your lips tantalize my layers.
Both my skin and mind intoxicatingly spin
making every care disappear somewhere.
My senses mesh elations while flesh bound
'til our capitulation and adoration sound.
I recall words, revisit them,
are surprised how many
have different meanings to me
now than before.
Memory keeps racing into the future,
while stacking up more interpretations -
more import from words.
Symbols and pictographs,
evolved into a written language -
words created Babel.
Babel impelled diversity.
Words dreamed for us,
they began to live in both our reality
and our myths,
we were learning
to cross over metaphysical bridges.
Words are millennials deep
each noun and verb
has built our perception;
understanding these deep roots,
these multi-layered runes,
clarifies how much we see through
a glass darkly, or clearly.
A large horse in a small field.
One day snow falls,
one day it rains,
sunny days….humid, dry
windy, not windy,
colors and climate changing.
You remember all these images once seen.
Each image has its own archived impressions,
together with its myriad meta-associations.
Words are like that, poetry is like that,
when you recall them,
the words ‘horse’ and ‘field’
have endless connotations and aspects.
Then we realize, understand,
that it was never about the actual words,
never about dictionary meanings,
more the act of recollection,
a contextual disclosure
that discovers roots and their revelations;
you remember universal truths,
origins that deepen the more you
recall that they were always
a part your psyche.
These words we tease apart
seeking for hidden innate meanings,
open new realities; new apperceptions
help us see where this you
came from, and where you are now.
It’s Saturday morning, and even though it’s Thanksgiving break, Lisa and I are in her bedroom, in NYC, studying.
“Ok,” Lisa stops, looks up and says, “give me a 5ex symbol.”
“I.. I don’t have one on me.” I say, apologetically.
“NAME one.” she clarifies.
“Are there “5ex symbols” anymore?” I say, with air-quotes, “Who’s “Marilyn Monroe” today -Kim Kardashian - oooo - or Kendall Jenner?”
“I read Emily Ratajkowski refer to herself as a 5ex symbol the other day.” Lisa says.
“Is that the model that said she was groped at a photo-shoot?” I ask, as I google her.
“Yeah,” Lesa nods, “but it was a music video shoot.”
“Do you think I could model?” I ask, as I pose vampingly. “Be unflinchingly honest.” I request.
“Hhmmmm,” she considers, framing me in a finger rectangle pretend camera. “You’re like Marilyn Monroe,” she says, “in a training bra.” *We burst out laughing*
“Back to the subject,” Lisa says, “name a guy you think of as a 5ex symbol.”
“Humphrey Bogart!“ I say.
“Humphrey Bogart?? No!” she rejects him, wrinkling her nose, “too old-timey and dead, besides, he was a MOVIE star - come ON, a real one - SAY!”
Michael Gandolfini!” I offer.
“??Michael Gandolfini??” she says, sounding stumped as her fingers google him.
*I make a dreamy “mmmm,” yummy sound.
“Oh, my GOD,” she says, and looks up for confirmation. “Humphrey Bogart and Michael Gandolfini - HONESTLY, you have the WEIRDEST taste!”
I was shocked, “No, seriously, don’t you think Michael looks kind of soft, cute and.. LUVable?”
She groans, “You’re going to marry an ugly man someday - aren’t you?” She pronounces, shaking her head.
“AM NOT!” I responded, throwing a pillow at her head (a pillow fight ensues).
They made a decorative well
in the campus
where books and laptops
were set aside
by the skinny staked
newly planted ancient oaks.
Students could sit there
to be good company
if they could find it.
The well is small, a bricked hole,
a shallow ocular sink
holding a green stillness,
yet direct sun made it live.
In the dazzle of the day
undergrads agree not to notice
a diminutive tide going in and out,
the hump-backed splashes of
surfacing Plesiosauri
magnified from lava and spawn,
until a passing cloud
clarifies these malformed gestations.
Girls in shorts check their bare legs
for teeth marks
as the noon day bell rings.
The wells inner-life
subsides as light dwindles,
damsel fly
and water striders
skim the small round waters,
while some feed upon
the drowned bones
of prehistoric ghosts.
A memo is eventually sent
to the groundskeeper
demanding he stop feeding
the reptiles.