INTERMITTENT EXPERIENCES-:-
satisfactory
responsed
immediacy
intractably
synthesised
in EMOTIONAL AUTHENTICITY
impressed
indications
imagined
emergent
intimacy
with en face DIGNITY
timorous
anonymous
integrity
genuinely
reflected
FORMAL EXPERIMENTALS-:-
perspective
conceived
aspirations
signal
transformations
into EMBLEMS
ultimately
immaterial
symbols
lastingly
synthesised
into a MIRROR OF LIFE
longingly
dissolved
sensational
intact
patterns
Classical is from the Middle Ages
in the mid-1940's we had Bebop
a fast-tempo 19th / 20th century Jazz
then along came Doo-wop
with group harmonies
the 50's brought us rock and roll
which developed the 1960's
(sad to say) Disco and its glitter ball
then psychedelic pop rock
blues and folk rock
and in the 1970's it was Hip-hop
and also Rap
which was misspelt
it should read 'Crap'
the 1980's were synthesised
1990's gave us Garage and Grunge
2020's saw online streaming
by the record industry which makes me cringe
Country music (C&W) too (hit or flop)
I know it's true I left out (Reggae) more than a few
but no matter the genre tempo or key
the self-same seven notes do it for eclectic me
Zenith of perfection is the aim of my existence.
My pilgrimage towards this, I know, is my persistence.
I align my senses like a predator towards prey.
My physique and psyche are synthesised in every way.
The social fibre in me, like thread in linen, is knit.
Doesn't the quiver of optimism endlessly transmit?
I dig the mines of cores of self-searching for the truth.
Thoughts, words, and actions are in unfeigned perpetual youth.
The fulfilment of feelings flows towards fullness of life.
Between uprightness and vileness, there is a constant strife.
Virtues, like treasures of vast oceans, are hidden within
Could stains of sin, before relentless goodness ever win?
Divinity, like vast skies, endlessly gets expanded.
Fullness of spirit within innermost shrines is implanted.
Values are revalued. Sensual pleasures are channelled.
Hindrances towards integral liberation are annulled.
All that the almighty meant for humans to be is won.
Eternally, in everything, the divine will is done.
CARICATURES
typically
blaze
with light
a centrepiece
shaped
silently
swaddled
oftimes
disquieting
&
intriguing
vivacious&
synthesised
with
much
precise
elements
so remarkably
begins
a portrait
between
the
continuities
of the
shape
to
preserving
evocation
of the mania
of
passing fads
so
unsettling
&
aloof
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
The lacquer, the tease, the crimp, of the hair
as we go out in style, mesh tops with flair
the motley choices of fashion pronounced
by the neon signs on our t-shirts no doubt.
Bobby socks and crop tops, spangled and bright,
all bangles and pearls to represent a Mardi Gras night.
The girls they did flock to the taverns in pairs,
to listen to the synthesised tunes that filled the air.
The boys, tight jeaned, and permed like a rock stars,
would enter in packs as though they were the masters,
sauntering through the ladies of lace,
one gloved with the charisma, yet held no grace.
The eighties were deemed a time out of place,
where anything goes, a retro space.
Defined by the music, the look now seems displaced,
yet there was fun and freedom when the eighties took place.
25/10/2018
I call him Clarence,
for no especial reason.
He announces in a soothing
if somewhat stilted
synthesised tone,
'The time is now ten a.m.'
He will oblige again at ten thirty
and then again at eleven.
Such is the mobile phone:
it gives you an alarm,
it is your stopwatch,
it takes your photographs,
updates your social media,
gets you to your online bank.
It is also useful as a phone.
But Clarence is special:
Clarence talks to me.
A voice in the otherwise
silent room
where only I sit
with troubled thoughts,
the analgesic spirit
a constant tang in my throat.
Clarence punctuates time with me.
unreal
in the
surreal
close-ups
do
reveal
her
choice
synthesised
pictorial
voice
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