Tag Archives: #abstract

CHARLES BUKOWSKI’S SPIRIT SPEAKING

In the gritty details, where souls collide,
Beauty’s an extraordinary beast to ride.
Couldn’t beat that truth, so I fought on,
Wrestling with thoughts, tears streaming strong.

I ground those tears, every damn notion,
In the arena of my relentless devotion.
Sought meaning, dug deep in my mind’s dirt,
Struggled through the trenches, not one to skirt.

Yeah, it’s the soul’s nitty-gritty, the raw affair,
That makes beauty shine, I swear and declare.
In every scar, every gritty fragment I found,
A damn extraordinary tale would resound.

That universal truth, it had me pinned,
But I brawled and bled, wouldn’t let it win.
Tears and thoughts, a cacophony in my head,
Bukowski-style, I fought till they bled.

So take those tears, let ’em soak the page,
Unleash ’em, ignite the poet’s raging rage.
Embrace the details, don’t shy from the brawl,
For it’s in the fight, we find beauty’s call.

Yeah, let this poem bear the Bukowski mark,
With grit and truth, a poetic spark.
In the trenches, amid the tears that flow,
Discover extraordinary beauty, don’t let it go.


Ode to Nothing

When I believe in love that
may never cease to be
the man I am has become me
Before the night has waxed
Before the candle leans forth
I hold upon the temple
a heart who made me my own
grassy knoll sleeps of love
and scents of nature’s romance
is when I feel complete
I have tasted the elixir
of faery power — the unreflected
love of my own happiness
to be just to be
to love and nothingness
is quite the feeling in life


BRAVEST OF WRITER DRINK PROSE

Oh, dearest seeker of linguistic lore,
With ardor I embark on this poetic chore.
In a symphony of syllables, I shall impart
The marvels of English pronunciation, an intricate art.

Listen closely, Jenny, as I guide your way,
Through a labyrinth of sounds that often sway.
I’ll weave a tapestry of words, both bleak and bright,
And together we shall venture into this poetic night.

Corps and corpse, horse and worse,
A quartet of phonetic universe.
Your mind, Jenny, shall dance in dizzying delight,
As I unravel the mysteries, unveiling them to light.

A tear may fall from your sparkling eye,
And a delicate dress may rend with a sigh.
But fear not, for my devotion is true,
I shall suffer alongside you, as this journey ensues.

Now, let us compare heart, beard, and heard,
A triad of words that seem absurd.
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, with caution they must be heard.

Britain, retain, oh mind the way they’re written,
Let not their spelling leave you smitten.
And worry not, I shall not pester you so,
With words like plaque and ague, which bring much woe.

But heed my counsel, speak with utmost care,
For break and steak differ from bleak and streak.
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.

Devoid of trickery, I enunciate,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore, oh so great.
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles.

Scholar, vicar, and the lingering cigar,
Solar, mica, war, and journeys afar.
Anemone, Balmoral, a touch of grace,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel, embrace.

Gertrude, German, wind, and thoughts so kind,
Scene, Melpomene, the tapestry of mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with the ballet’s sway,
Nor bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet’s display.

Blood and flood, they do not align with food,
Mould does not echo should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load, and broad,
Toward, forward, reward, let their harmony applaud.

And when your pronunciation rings clear,
Croquet, a game of leisure, let it appear.
Rounded, wounded, grieve, and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Ivy, privy, famous, clamor’s song,
Enamor rhymes with hammer, strong.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, and comb,
Doll and roll, some and home, find their home.

Stranger, anger, a subtle difference found,
Devour, clangor, their rhymes astound.
Souls and foul, haunt and aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant.

Shoes, goes, does, let them gracefully flow,
Finger, singer, ginger, linger, in succession they show.
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge, and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.

Query, very, they don’t mirror each other,
Fury and bury, neither do they smother.
Dost, lost, post, doth, cloth, and loth,
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.

Seemingly small, these differences stand,
Actual and victual, hand in hand.
Refer and deafer, they part ways,
Feoffer, zephyr, a gentle breeze conveys.

Mint, pint…

:: 06.01.2023 ::


I SEE BLUE WAVES UPON THE OCEAN’S SOUL

I

Whence does the self emerge, as I unbind from the glacial bloom?
What adoration lingers within that feminine reverie’s realm?
In love’s force, betwixt ecstasy’s embrace,
Where his palm parts the captured gull,
Unconscious eyes disclose intricate tales,
Veiling existence’s essence, that which conceals.

II

I hold affinity for all that resides,
Shadowy whispers of quotidian nourishment,
A vessel’s wake, fading into oblivion’s grasp.

‘Tis the tremor of the abyss, embracing abundance,
A woman donning stockings of ethereal velvet.

Arrange, we must, the waves, diverse and arrayed,
The melancholy, thou embodiment,
Or one who, world idolized, ventures forth,
Knees adorned with wings, poised mid passion’s flight,
Within love’s central day,
I shall never deceive, but embrace entirety’s plight.
Freedom, mine, in its cruelest form,
Behold the insular artistry,
Where danger finds solace, its taste revered.

Love, the transgressor of societal norms,
Customs yet to be acquired, in anticipation we wait,
Love, exalted, with all its rightful claims,
And the ever-transforming world,
Glimpsed through kaleidoscopic gazes, each day anew.

:: 05.21.2023 ::


SUN SWALLOWED REVERIE: A DANCE OF DAFFODILS

As the sun, voracious and insatiable, swallowed my existence whole,
I embarked on a solitary journey, akin to a shapeless cloud, untethered and untold,
Drifting aimlessly, transcending the earthly realm, high above vales and hills,
Enveloped in a realm of ethereal stillness, where time itself stands still.

But in a moment of celestial revelation, the sun’s fiery gaze unveiled a surreal sight,
A gathering, an assemblage, a congregation of daffodils aglow in golden light,
Their radiant presence forming a host, a legion of nature’s finest art,
Bathing the landscape in hues of yellow, a masterpiece played out from the heart.

Beside the tranquil lake, beneath the majestic trees’ verdant embrace,
Those golden daffodils came alive, imbued with grace,
Fluttering delicately, as if whispering secrets to the zephyr’s gentle caress,
Dancing in harmonious unity, a mesmerizing spectacle I couldn’t suppress.

In the embrace of the sun’s all-consuming power, their beauty shone bright,
Each petal, a brushstroke, painting a portrait of pure delight,
Their collective presence, a testament to the wonders of Earth’s fertile ground,
A reminder that even in the vastness of existence, such miracles can be found.

And so, in the midst of my celestial consumption, a profound truth was revealed,
That nature’s symphony transcends all barriers, all illusions skillfully concealed,
For even as the sun devoured my being, a transcendent connection took hold,
Binding me to the daffodils’ dance, a memory I would forever behold.

Thus, as the sun continued its celestial feast, devouring me bit by bit,
I remained enraptured by the daffodils’ presence, their eternal spirit lit,
For in their graceful dance and vibrant hue, a profound lesson unfurled,
That even in the face of oblivion, beauty and life can forever thrive in this vast world.

:: 05.21.2023 ::


)…THIN &

(
)…thin &       sometimes     –> t ALL     pouring hourglass rains   Oh All!<– she’s all within my mind orSome-suchSilly paIN___it’s  killing me!   & the silverRain falls upon eloquence  with logic — ties me up and arrests me!

Oh, see! Will-be-was chasing Ever Is  in plankTime /set aside mind\  and beachDREAM with green waves of lapping licking
seaTongues : my possessions were causing suspicion so i placed them all upon a raft and set sail to Dream it’s not over:
when the world Ends it is the flatEarth theory \how lovely it could be // seeing deflated memories inside a coffin are ever actually good for funeral folks doing a fine job making thoughts more alive than they’ve ever been.

:: 02-26-2017 ::rev: 08.09.2020

Poet’s Notes:

The poem plays with the themes of time, mortality, reality, and the human perception of these concepts. This is most clearly seen in lines such as “Will-be-was chasing Ever Is in plankTime”, “when the world Ends”, and the reference to the “flatEarth theory”. These lines suggest a critique or contemplation of human understanding of time and existence, and perhaps a tension between what is perceived or believed and what is reality.

The phrase “pouring hourglass rains” presents time as a physical, even overwhelming force, while “she’s all within my mind orSome-suchSilly paIN___it’s killing me!” introduces a personal, emotional element. This could suggest a struggle with mental anguish or heartache, which is consuming the speaker’s thoughts and affecting their perception of time.

The poem uses unconventional syntax and formatting (like “/set aside mind” and “\how lovely it could be //”) to disrupt traditional reading patterns, which may reflect the disorientation and confusion associated with confronting complex existential questions. The phrase “beachDREAM with green waves of lapping licking seaTongues” evokes a surreal, dreamlike state, reinforcing the theme of altered perception.

In the final lines, “seeing deflated memories inside a coffin are ever actually good for funeral folks doing a fine job making thoughts more alive than they’ve ever been”, the speaker seems to suggest that the end of life (or perhaps the end of a period or experience) can provide a new perspective, making memories and thoughts more vivid or meaningful. This could be interpreted as a commentary on the human tendency to value and romanticize the past or what has been lost.

The overall tone of the poem is ambiguous and introspective, reflecting the speaker’s internal struggle to reconcile their emotions and perceptions with the reality of time, existence, and loss. While it’s complex and somewhat challenging to decipher, its use of vivid, surreal imagery and innovative syntax make it a thought-provoking exploration of human consciousness and the nature of reality.


Eclipse of Existence

I dreamed a dream, but was it such a dream?

The sun’s bright flame was quenched, and every star
drifted in endless darkness without aim,
rayless, pathless, and the cold earth afar
swung blindly in the moonless void of space.
morning came and went, but brought no day,

And all men, awed by the dread despair,
Forgot their passions in this desolate fray.
All hearts grew cold, and turned to selfish prayer
For light to break this endless night of doom.

By watchfires they lived, while thrones and kings
Burnt as beacons, while huts and homes consumed.
Cities fell, and people gathered in rings
Around their blazing hearths to meet their fate,
Happy those who lived in the volcano’s light,

For all the world held naught but fear and hate.
Forests burned, and hour by hour, the night
Fell, fading all in its ebon embrace.
Men’s faces, lit by flickering firelight,

Wore an eerie, otherworldly face.

Some wept, others laughed in desperate grace.
And all around, the world descended to the dust.
Birds fluttered, beasts trembled in mortal fear,
And serpents hissed, but to no avail, for they must

Perish by the hand of those they once held dear.
War, which for a moment seemed to be no more,
Returned to glut itself upon the land,
Feasting upon blood and sullenly keeping score,

As all love fled from the earth’s barren strand.
Famine reigned, and every living thing
Fed upon the flesh of the dying and the dead,
Until bones and flesh alike were but a thing

Forgotten by time and all that lay ahead.
Even dogs attacked their masters in their need,
And yet one remained faithful to the last,
Guarding his master’s body, and with no heed

For his own hunger, he held off the ghastly cast
Of beasts and men, until at last he died,
Uttering a pitiful and desolate cry,
Licking the hand of the one who never replied.

The crowd grew famished, and yet only two survived,
Two enemies, who met beside an altar-place,
Gathering holy things for an unholy rite,
Scraping feeble ashes with skeleton hands and face,

And breathing their last breath to create a light
That mocked them both, until they saw each other’s plight,
And in their horror, they died, unknowing of the other’s name,
For famine had left them with only their mutual hideousness and shame.

The world was void, lifeless, and stark,
A chaos of hard clay, without tree or herb,
River, lake, or ocean, all motionless and dark,
And ships lay rotting on a stagnant sea, without a word.

Masts fell down piecemeal, without a sound,
And waves lay still, and tides were in their graves.
The moon had died, and the winds lay unbound,
As clouds perished, leaving nothing to save

The world from darkness, for she was the universe,
And in her shroud of night, nothing was left to curse.

:: 05.10.1992 ::


Marsh Marigold

A melting clock dripping into a pool of clear tears,
stinging like saltwater drops shed by sad children.
A towering sun assaulted by the whiteness of women’s bodies,
as if they were melting into the skies as distorted forms within dreams.

i need no sympathy. The wind blows ~~ upon this cold night.

A mass of silk and lilies, cascading like several rainbows of color
and patterns colliding overlaping like abstract paintings
We all carry on like nothing really matters /no need no sympathy
A lone figure defending a wall, with colors and shapes of surroundings
melting and morphing into fantastical forms that defy logic.

Angels dancing within dizzying swirls of light and shadows, with their wings
transforming into fluid and organic shapes that blend into the surreal landscape.

Sometimes, yes, sometimes I wish I have had no body at all.

A golden current flowing with dark, tired arms that move with cool and calm rhythms,
while colors of surroundings blend into a vibrant green.
Oh moma, i fear the dark spaces and my skin glows with unknown energy!

A somber figure standing beneath a canopy of blue sky, surrounded by curtains
that transform into arches and hills that meld into the abstract landscape.
Oh, the glistening surface holds such surreal bubbles!
A liquid of deep, pale gold blankets the beds made by fate:

The little girls’ green and faded dresses morph into willows,
from which birds without reins flee, into the vast unknown.
Purer than gold, a yellow eyelid blinks with warmth,
marsh marigold – a symbol of your married faith, O Bride! –

At the stroke of noon, from its dull mirror, jealousy rises
As the rose-colored sphere glows with love: gray heat fills the sky.

:: 05.07.2023 ::

Analysis:

The first stanza presents a series of surreal images, including a melting clock, clear tears, and distorted forms. These images suggest a sense of timelessness and fluidity, as well as a feeling of sadness or loss. The second stanza introduces the idea of abstraction and the blending of colors and patterns, which creates a sense of chaos and confusion.

The third stanza presents the idea of angels and their wings, which transform into fluid and organic shapes that blend into the surreal landscape. This image suggests a sense of freedom and transcendence, as well as a feeling of disorientation and uncertainty.

The fourth stanza introduces the idea of fear and unknown energy, which creates a sense of tension and unease. The fifth stanza presents a somber figure standing beneath a canopy of blue sky, surrounded by curtains that transform into arches and hills that meld into the abstract landscape. This image suggests a sense of isolation and introspection, as well as a feeling of wonder and beauty.

The sixth stanza presents the idea of a golden current flowing with dark, tired arms that move with cool and calm rhythms, while colors of surroundings blend into a vibrant green. This image suggests a sense of renewal and growth, as well as a feeling of harmony and balance.

The seventh stanza introduces the idea of fate and its mysterious workings, which creates a sense of uncertainty and awe. The final stanza presents the image of a marsh marigold, which symbolizes married faith and suggests a sense of hope and commitment.

Overall, “Marsh Marigold” is a powerful and thought-provoking poem that uses rich and evocative language to explore a range of complex themes and emotions.


River Creatures Speak

CLOSING these eyes
reaching outside all reality
you come inside inevitably
surreal being one
dancing twinkle little toes
being mice is little woe
i lost the bread crumbs of a path
inside this deep green forest
little feet wet upon green grass
stopping i look: out there, under stars,
i saw myself focus on the soul i am
reading, drawing, singing, i found a river
of rivulets and eddies swirling around me
the frog croaked, “important to be authentic!”
The tadpole, “Express your emotions with hesitation!”
The skies, “Those wo care about you won’t be bothered
by what you say, and those who are bothered
do not matter.”

:: 04.30.2023 ::


The Balloon Man

Amidst the season of mud,
The small, limping balloon man
Whistles a tune so soft and slight,
And Eddie and Bill, they come running.
Marbles and pirate ships left behind
For it is spring, and the world is full of wonder.

Puddles here and there,
The strange old balloon man
Whistles his song so light and free.
Betty and Isbel, they come dancing
From hopscotch and jump rope,
For it is spring,
And the world is full of life.

The goat-footed balloon man,
He whistles still,
His song so faint and sweet.
And we, like Eddie and Bill,
Like Betty and Isbel,
We run and dance in the spring,
For the world is full of joy.

:: 04.27.2023 ::