Wednesday, February 17, 2010


In August,
chrome electricity
Tennessee rubies.

Caramel asylum
chrome fiction
rubies' condensation.

Silver eyelid
reticence petrifies
caramel electricity.

Elsewhere ghostlike
rubies illustrate
eyelid chrome.

Paris' sprawled
portrait drapes
rubies' romance.

Honeycombed veneers'
fabric sails
skyline asylum.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Oh! Blithe, Enveloping Treasure

An horizonless ocean
blending into the sky
weaves, without a loom,
a mandala tapestry
as I sing Om to streaky
cotton candy clouds
languidly caressing
my beloved’s cheeks.

Conch shell trumpeters
blare out a fanfare
for a regal procession –
every drop of my blood
marches, like an army
of idolaters, an impassioned
adoration procession for her
elegance, my song of the heavens,
oh, blithe enveloping treasure!

My eyes bleed prayers…
and the answers arise –
the cold breeds the sun
as the wind hatches chimes,
the rain washes lovers
enraptured by the moment,
bulbs release tulip petals
from Hades grasp, and sighs
catch in breathless gasps.

A wild mare gallops
in the soft, impossible
night, whispering secrets
to her spring stallion.

Klimt’s painted kiss
adorns only the lips
of his sleeping Danae,
whose fiery red hair
drapes over the shoulders
of the treasure I caress
with my every heartbeat,
and the fire of your spirit
ignites my life’s passion.

In the hearth of your smile
will my eyes always reside,
and the song of tomorrow
sings in tonight’s whispers.

Flinging away all cares
I escape into the instant
And dwell there eternally.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Pound Said; I Said

Pound said:


As cool as the pale wet leaves
of lily-of-the-valley
She lay beside me in the dawn.

I said:


Even without
money, I will always be
a wealthy man. My fortune:
all the memories
a lifetime can hold.
In the phosphorous moonlight,
Artemis supplants Selene
radiating the nights of Aquarius -
and the sea
washes to my shoreline
the most precious sea shells:
my unsurpassable fortune
will always be knowing you.

Pound said:


from "Langue d'Oc"

When the nightengale to his mate
Sings day-long and night late
My love and I keep state
In bower,
In flower,
'Till the watchman on the tower
"Up! Thou rascal, Rise,
I see the white
And the night

I said:


When the wild spirit of Pan
Plays his pipes in sacred élan,
My heart whispers beyond land's span-
A silent melody,
Of epic rhapsody,
In impassioned psalmody,
"Wild blood coursing
Through my heart
Beyond all art

And the Constellations Winked Approval

with me to the summit,
to the mountain peak.
the diffused sienna blaze engulfing
aspens quaking across a dozing valley.
violins weep at Beethoven’s command
as the shadowy fingers of dusk
clutch the landscape hushed
by the impressions of Van Gogh’s brush.
in the rich, winter fragrance of pine
needles wafting on a gentle zephyr
the way a sonata’s legato movement
liltingly surrounds lovers in the night.
the dry, Serein River bite in a glass
of unblushing Chablis as it washes
the heart’s impassioned palate
with the honey of skittish enigma.
strong arms swallow you
in a protective and nurturing embrace,
warding off the cold, buffeting winds
that blanket the frozen, steppe wasteland.

I awaken
to an imagined spring
voice heavily accented.
She speaks
in the languages of every nation.
She leads
me into Paradise like Beatrice led Dante.
She whispers
to me in my dreams like Alba to Pound
as they lay together in the pre-dawn
dew anticipating first light.
She haunts
me from the four corners of the Earth
as Gongyla did Sappho through absence.
She leaves
the same longing within my soul
that Sappho felt for Anactoria and Atthis.

I would brave
the tribulations of Heracles
to witness one of her smiles,
gracing her countenance, to gaze upon me.

I would have walked
across the globe with Alexander,
not to conquer lands, accumulate booty
and subject people to the Great’s rule;
simply to hold her in my arms
in the moonlight, to feel her body
breathing against mine as my heart
would pound against hers,
and to kiss the rosy blush of her lips
between the gasped gaps of her radiance.

And the constellations winked approval.

Silvery Light Shrouds

Silvery light shrouds her with a brilliant
Halo, she stands at midnight’s threshold –

A hesitation between breaths, and concentric
Ripples across the celestial sea spiral
From the edge of eternity to the limitless
Instant: inevitability’s expectant moment.

Sculpted porcelain, crafted from chalcedony,
Reflects her radiance, glimmering ablaze
With the boundless passion emanating from every
Unique brushstroke swept across masters’ canvases.

Cosmic superstrings tune themselves
To the chords she strums, and universes
Sing into being as her melody composes
Chance’s recollection: sweet, divine music.

She calls sublime poetry to flake down upon
Bards and poets like the softest crystal powder
Fluttering out in a fine blanket; her songs
Inspire imagination, aspiration and anticipation.

My heartbeat pounds at her door!

My pulse whispers her name…

The rushing wind
Bellows glee in a tempest.

Fervor fathoms rapturous depths.

The sashayed path she treads
Opens upon the gates of exhilaration,
There would I dare to follow.

siren of electric airwaves

siren of electric airwaves
healer of the deformed infirm
butterfly on a mid-spring morn
weaver of all safety nets

under crystal skies
you open gateways
for lost souls
on the road to Elysium

angel muse
silent whisperer
clothed in brilliant starshine
revealer of the harvest

daughter of the gods
you coax ancient secrets
from flaming pyres
burning eternally

siren of electric airwaves
lead me to your island's shores
dream me into a constellation
or the sand between your toes

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Bizarre, They Seem

Exploding stars must produce;
when the period hits -
a blur to the human eye!
Bizarre, they seem.

Color appears like reversed
grounds, preliminary exhibitions'
relatively easy solutions:
challenge relativity's interspersing effect.

Combining and interlacing fingers'
especially ambitious details,
dialog archived collections
and proceed to small cloisters.

Rhythm, Atmosphere or Mood

Planet lands an astronaut
in shifts of dominance,
consequent occurrence
makes energy carrying
particles escape the solar
center in tempo:
rhythm, atmosphere or mood.

The severe problem
consisting in earth and rocks'
observational selection
appears uniformly blue
independent of surface
color: nature loves the small.

Rotation to the rescue!

Juxtaposition restricted.

Young, old, major,
minor, pulsar, nebulae,
radiation, vacuosity.

Without absorptions,
the normal result and
most decisive difference,
set up to record hot flashes.

Consequent Recurrence

Flatter the public taste
flatter than sentimental waste.

Distinguish the lighter and darker
and extinguish the flatulent marker.

Discriminate color intensity
by uttering a garbled obscenity.

Consequent recurrence of placement
reveals the irrelevance of government.

Compare the coffee in a cup
with the tail of a wagging pup.

Apples, cherries and tomatoes are red
but chapter 20 is best read in bed.

Remain unchanged in hue and light
because, man, dig it, like, it's outtasite.


Reason, having a direct
remainder with respect
to the subject, molasses,
illustrates indefinite
non-observable signs.

The barometer reads
value uncertainty
drawn by measuring
applied voltage.

First case destinations
formulated a mark
of causality, counter
to pre-vision intuition -
definition's revision:
uncertain incision.

The simplest cannibal
obtained repeated
calculations of models
beside the cartels
of dimensional brothels.

Points in time
in variable response.

Where there is fire, kitchen
qualitatively prevails smoke.

Non-observable counter examples
understand product resistance.

An unbiased variance
squared the correct entry
relating to something else
with short, false repetitions.

concentrations, not empty

an existing sign existentially
calibrates using known
concentrations, not empty
of impermanence assuming
the equation applies
to phenomena - although florescent,
straightforward slope product,
being a verb, contains
knowledge; data, applied
to the least, squares incontrovertibly
with respect to meaning -
systematic and systemic error.

three possibilities

uncompounded space
in accordance
with dissimilar
class of sound
three possibilities
only if one
considers two
in relation to words
between being
and membership
whatever perversion
comments behind
reasoning phenomena.

Monday, February 8, 2010

He Yearns

He yearns to hear her breathe in her sleep,
and gaze upon her timeless and serene features.

He yearns to nuzzle the delicate lily radiating
from her soul during the moments that well up
in the heart during quiet, hesitating intervals.

He yearns to sip wine from her lips at midnight
under the full moon, while her cheeks and neck
blush from the adoration of unrestrained longing.

He yearns to embrace the scent of her perfume
as it wraps him in the blanket of her allure.

He yearns to wander through unfenced ranges
with her on spirited steeds, unfettered by convention.

He yearns to shudder from the grace of her
finger as it grazes over his shivering flesh.

He yearns to glimpse her expressions
as she sketches a kitten and a ball of yarn.

He yearns to know what it feels like
for their hearts to beat in the same rhythm.

He’s afraid that unrequited yearning
will only drive her out of his dreams.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Ekphrasis Exercise

"Poetry and painting (or any visual art) have long been considered to be 'sister' arts, each in their own way offering a similar means to re-envision or re-experience the world. Moreover, poets and painters have long served as sources of mutual inspiration; a poet in search of 'images' can find an almost limitless supply within the vivid, concrete and evocative 'language(s)' of painting." - Steve Salmoni.

I am going to provide a few examples of Ekphrasis from my own attempts at interpreting the visual artistry of painters in my own poetry.

Paris through the Window, Marc Chagall

Paris Through the Window, Marc Chagall, 1913

Paris through the Window

An open-mouthed, human-faced feline
sits, perched on a ledge in the city of lights,
gazing, aghast at the developing scene
which a two-faced man - half full of the blues
offering an unclaimed heart in his hand
to no one in particular, half looking away,
smiling past the borderland of existence -
fails to notice. Rising from the bodies
of a well dressed couple (every man and all woman)
laying limp and lifeless, the Eiffel Tower
glints and gleams in the illumination
of bright and colorful searchlights, a stoic and
staid edifice of emotionless steel. Unflinching,
a man parachutes down to lifeless humanity.
An empty chair reposes at the table next
to the double-faced Parisian Janus, who guards
the open, glass-paned, sliding doorwindow,
permitting an invisible breeze to refresh
the flower arrangement adorning
the empty table of the man’s solitary blues.

The Birthday, Marc Chagall

The Birthday

A tapestry on the wall of moments,
near a bed, empty in its non-union,
colors the drab plaster of existence
with whimsy, a woman’s tiptoes
strain as she reaches for a contorted
body of her ghost-man bending over
backwards, his pallid lips meet her
rosy kiss by the open window, paned
overlook onto the city, as the universal
clock points out the instant, surprise
shines through her open eyes, his dead
gaze through closed eyes blinds him
to her, and he armlessly offers an empty
embrace as a bouquet in her hands thirsts
for the limbs which blossomed them.

Composition #7, Walter Kandinsky

Composition #7

shout run lightning scream fast blown
technicolor yawn crystalline cloud shards
fragment alluring anniversary helmets
arrowhead rocking chair filtered warble smear
canoe sunnyside up sprocket wheeled wheedle
hurled curls reflection wild cityscape slab
madness cacophony nightmare seasonless
hurricane rainbow lamp strawhat duck sled
potpourri insect disjointed connection furious
fractured slithering inverted freeform dove.

The Old Guitarist, Pablo Picasso

The Old Guitarist

The crumpled figure of aging poverty –
an old man seen through the tint
of bluesy tones, his clothing tattered
and torn, a holy adornment – on a cross-legged
cement sidewalk, leans against the wall
eyes closed to the silent, desolate and absent
audience surrounding him - and he strums
and sings of the destitution in the stark
and barren landscape of his unfulfilled
dreams, the under-appreciation of his soul.

Friday, February 5, 2010

The Queen of Atlantis

Come with me through
the mirror into which I peer,
a reflection of the past revealing
the future, to the legend
which spawned all legends
and reveals the dream of all dreams,
to fair Atlantis, and be the queen
of tomorrow as you radiate the light
from the Lady of all ladies,
the light of the Queen of Atlantis.

Clouds drift beyond the horizon
carrying harmonized chorales
who cry to the ancient oceans;
Sewn silver seeds wait to sprout
from the plowed rows. Cover
them over with the finest
Chinese silk, woven by Empress
Lei Zu from the most delicate
mulberry silkworm cocoons.
The parting clouds reveal
Luna’s countenance as
the seeds germinate
into the sublime hopes
of antediluvian prophesies.

Plato never foresaw
a utopia of nowhere
quite so somewhere.

When one heart whispers
to another, the seas freeze still
in abeyance, the winds caress
the words, lightning brilliantly
illuminates the thunderless
pulse, all swords rust
into dust, ploughshares
carve harvests out of deserts,
and the one certain truth
in the universe echoes
from the highest Himalayan
peak: a rose without thorns.

Venga conmigo
a través del espejo que observo
el reflejo del pasado,
que revela el futuro,
a la leyenda que dio lugar
a todas leyendas,
y que revela
el sueño de todos los sueños,
a la serena Atlántida,
y sea la reina de la mañana,
mientras que irradiando la luz
de la Dama
de todas las damas,
la luz de la Reina de Atlántida.