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to enslave with domestication


dog by scavengercat808

dog by scavengercat808

to enslave with domestication

it is always superficial, caused by humans without gumption.
their hearts are frozen. their dysfunctionality, contagious.
i am preoccupied with difficulties. the air is too cold.
with temerity i shiver. the communal sun radiates not on me.

a treasure from my mother might be a memory of times past.
it’s a species thing. natural. days of wretched misery.
hours of dolorous suffering. i am stabbed by unblunted thorns.
calluses form as if I were to transmute into an uncultivated cactus.

i question the distress in the experience of humanity:
to savor. to self-reflect. to engage in life with exactitude.
to appraise with attitude. to enslave with domestication.
i stare with solemnity, “is protection around the corner?”

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Hear this on Sound Cloud

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 190

Also posted on:

Open Link Night ~ 107

Image credits: Unknown, from Magpie tales page

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Dance to the Moulin Rouge


Henri Toulouse-Lautrec:. Dance to the Moulin Rouge

Henri Toulouse-Lautrec:. Dance to the Moulin Rouge

Dance to the Moulin Rouge

summer breezes kiss her curls.
unlatched emotions — tension unfurled.
a sudden scuttle. she towers
to the middle of the floor —
music called her to gambol.

the men rubbernecking.
her dress plays it safely.
impulsive. exploitative.
pathetic ridicule and gossip.
chirps hum to merry prancing.

graceful butterfly. witch queen.
dance tornado. plastic sculpture.
dress variable in shape.
ribbons and skin so silky.
next, she’ll kick off those shoes.

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Hear this on Sound Cloud

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 179

Also posted on:

Open Link Night ~ 107

 

Fancy HOV Ridin’


Balloons

Balloons

Fancy HOV Ridin’

surrealistic existentialism
late afternoon commute,
coasting in the bike lane
looking for things to do.

careers, oh so different.
with certainty, city explored.
older people, not one younger
high school students on the run.

time to ransack bookstores.
(only for compilations)
published. renounced.
such was the plan.

in good company,
cheeky thinking.
regional network,
structured naturally.

professor emeritus,
familiar with his family tree.
full of universal correctness,
(worthy of a doubt or two.)

signed up for his book club.
costly find. challenged participation.
opinions: affected by social conditions:
unfavorable disregard for niceties.

night ride? without illumination?
front wheel off, bike fits in his trunk.
homeward in eco-ready, light-auto —
stratospheric high-flying-occupant-car-pooler.

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Hear this on Sound Cloud

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 179

Also posted on:

Open Link Night ~ 107

Image credits: The Horrible Forest by *pesare on deviantart

lower body wrap


Woman With a Towel, 1898, Edgar Degas

Woman With a Towel, 1898, Edgar Degas

lower body wrap

fabric wrinkles in her hand:
uneven, asymmetric, flexible,
button-less, never scratchy.

effect and causation.
a careful calibration.
dedication, decoration,
operation, improvisation:

drape it.
throw it.
peel it like paste —
a belly-dancer’s veil.

mass consumption.
don’t’ make a presumption.
a classic resumption.
show a little gumption:

show a little tit.
show a little ass.
sprinkle rectus abodominus.
raw leg’s healthy sex appeal.

melt into subduction,
in this place of seduction.
conduction, abduction…
don’t make a big production —
it’s a cheap reproduction.

rich colored background.
soft colored skin.
fabric drenched in softener.
softly tactile.
soft-on-soft.
soft-on-wet.
ahhhh…
wrap it up.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 163

Also posted on:

Open Link Night ~ 91

Image credits: The Horrible Forest by *pesare on deviantart

Where Is the Food When Mother Is Not?


Yerka Jacek - Mind Fields Between Heaven and Hell

Yerka Jacek – Mind Fields Between Heaven and Hell

Where Is the Food When Mother Is Not?

Where is the food
when mother is not,
searching — plates and bowls
hit or miss? Open fridge.
Ransack cabinets.

I read a fairy tale,
that food grows ready:
creative cuisine,
not difficult to get:
a hundred people —
a hundred eggs.

Without Mom, a sudden collapses?
Everywhere needs an eye —
Or the glassware might fall:
a place to cry
a place to laugh.

Here’s Mom.
The harvest
we will collect.
Enthusiastic cheers.
The smell goes down the hall.

I shall help.
Always help.
Help in the kitchen.

Yes, Mom is back.
Heat up the pot.
No more stale, old
Piss-water tea.
Take a broom and dustpan.
Sweep up confusion.

The cold kitchen
will soon be warm.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 162

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 98

Quickening of The Chakras


Venus de Milo with Drawers - Salvador Dali, 1936

Venus de Milo with Drawers – Salvador Dali, 1936

Quickening of The Chakras

Dirt removed from body,
in bathing relaxation.
You squeeze out thoughts
with unseen hands.

Light emanates from stomach;
it centers from the groin,
it’s grounded from the toes,
along the spine and running.
Thickness not applicable.
All colors of the rainbow are appropriate.
Shape is satisfying as it
forms in spherical splendor.

It’s a thing of tears.
Heart sounds seem like waves.
It’s a quickening, whence
cells echo in the body,
calmness of a primitive universe.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 157

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 85


Poetry Pantry #145

Initiated Kiss


Lovers Kissing by Joseph Lorusso

Initiated Kiss

There was a man
who was The Kiss
after a meal,
but not even dating.

Only one
earnestly fell in love;
a kiss to which
one utters, “WOW!”
blinding everyone’s
point of view.
They must kiss all the time.

Oh.
Behind the ear.
Around the neck.
A little touch
here and there.

Initiation? By whom?
Is this for real?
This kind of kiss,
better than any before.
No one observes those lips.
It’s all a point of view.

Public display of affection —
extremely tight and thrilling.
Let them perform
so long, so hungry.
Private entertainers
competing against
mediocre sustenance.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 155

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 83

Epideictic Rhetoric


Central Library, Manchester, U.K., by Robin Gosnall

Epideictic Rhetoric

(students and their study habits)

palate superstructure of the day;
vehicle of the visitors;
a gallery to favor Aeneas,
to let Diana eat well,
often to let Bacchus drink.

auricular masses
chewed moral and mental comparisons.
ballistic bedroom crowds
reiterated unrepeatable profanity.

who jumped off the roof
for the sake of
three tragedies,
one satire, five dramas,
and three comedic theatrical events?

eschew the epideictic rhetoric.
ignore the melodies of the epifonèma.
let them speak euphemisms silently
as we give them time to catch up and read.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 154

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 82

Also posted on:


Introducing E

Not Alone


Charlotte Gainsbourg, AnOther

Charlotte Gainsbourg, AnOther

Not Alone

(The Week Michael Jackson Died)

From the four corners,
people observed
through grieving family eyes.
I was not alone.

Down the blood red carpet,
a golden casket
carried The King
popped
in his final act.

I’d sing to him.
I’d sing with him.
I’d cure him
of his instabilities
and self loathing.
But I’ll never meet him now.
I’ll never get to hold his hand;
to heal the world,
to save each creature
by his side.

I am not alone:
missing him,
his philanthropy ,
his unconditional, total love.

I flash YouTube
one song
after another;
sing them
with unlicensed
Karaoke lyrics.
The pain doesn’t stop.

I remember hours
of burning electricity —
spinning tunes
dancing just like him
or maybe dancing my own
chassé-Marimba-two-step.

I pull out the vinyls
and drop a tear
on every album sleeve.

I return to the world of today:
to neighbors,
to newscasts,
to blogs in Japanese .

Around me —
emotional schemas
of every variety;
and I realize,
I am not alone.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 153

Also posted on:

OpenLinkNight ~ Week 81

incidental rag


Full Body Sweater

Full Body Sweater

incidental rag

assembeled yarn
helps me unwind

embraced in warmth
i live inside a sleeve

worn like a stain
an incidental rag

no one complains
or recollects my face

i am a heaping pile
washing might defile

inside my hood
stains of endless tears

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Magpie Tales – Mag 151