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 Author Thread: Old Souls....only.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 6670 (view)
Old Souls....only.
Posted: 5/18/2017 8:20:55 PM

what caused her legs to spread?

logical inconsistencies litter poetic highways bm, at your age you should know that.

Let me be more direct---sloppy writing is what I was getting at.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 6664 (view)
Old Souls....only.
Posted: 4/9/2017 10:56:22 AM
"the spread legs of an otherwise
subservient whore."

This is logically inconsistent. If her legs are spread how much more subservient can she get?
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2583 (view)
Posted: 5/16/2012 8:31:22 AM
Thanks for your kind words purfectmeow. I appreciate it.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2581 (view)
Posted: 5/15/2012 9:53:38 PM
‘I was wanting to get the feeling that things are incredibly lovely and out of this loveliness the most terrible things happen’…Leslie Scalapino.


The documents placed in correct order, neat stacks and a paper city is built. The mind NASCARS in the ADHD hours when it’s 4AM and a blanket of serial killers is flowing across the bed like a velvet river. Always, a pair of you, one being away sensing the rippling morphology, another like another train, with the speed of light, hugging.

Yet, who is that person over there, bereft of a physical state observing the two sumo wrestlers serviced by an omnipresence of Kim Kardashians ?

All my contraries float away hence the ventricular hiss each time on the merry go round.
A form of be still or be red. A form of adulthood akin to the section of an orange with few sections left since having slept long on the rose dark floor remaining in the shape of tomorrow.

Now we find ourselves here, within the Department of Homeland Security, drawing heavily on the work ethic of the abattoir, finding it invaluable. In our analysis we like to say ‘spot on’ and ‘paradigm’. A state of police for a state of mind and a home of our own good for looking good is a being absolutely necessary to umpire empire. Finally, in the fight for freedom, the time of trans-vaginal probes is at hand, with Halliburton skies burning oily rainbows, and all the apple pie of Abu Ghraib.

The sumo wrestlers might have finished even now they speak to the moon of mountains in the shape of men. They are in the act of not creating and there are craters nearby creators.

If I am conscious I am consuming and I can’t help it but I want to streamline like a new train hugging the speed of light, little sliver of theoretical immortality.

The scarlet ibis in allegory bite down on your bullet of longing, feeling sick.

I have put something over there so that I might go onward into all the Friday nights and their amazons.

So that I might say ‘Oh yeah…there’s still enough rain.’

* Line from the Camper Van Beethoven song ‘Borderline’
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2580 (view)
Posted: 4/9/2012 8:57:18 PM

Then came an exit of sleep-infested days and the nights preceding once of a neon jejunity. Exactly neon, noble and new with representations of living forward in a signed vibrancy that blinked Open All Night and Vacancy, colored gas of the future planet where your parents voyaged, your mother in heels, streamlined green and stepping out with your inert father. They were the last and you didn’t follow but wonder to mountain with another on the outskirts of cities. In the whirring gauze of orbital curvature desolate birds flocked home through a multi-eye. Then it was onto calm breathing in the restoration of the commonplace: family pet, stranger walking by, the success of an automobile. Except the quotidian archetype was a bit of cloud adrift fields of full-bodied Saturdays, pockets possessed of miniature eternities that bloomed and buzzed through anyone’s guess, and a valence that dovetailed in ache taut as the arrow of time. Once you even thought you might have heard something like the Hey You Kid voice of cosmic alignment.

-- discarded to return: something else.

Blackened gum spots to litter walkways. A cripple scratches in your conscience like a small voice of God. You smoke through patches and remember dawns of yesteryear’s absence. Men and women recall the security of factories, equate to happiness and plummet as they wait in line to wage war on time share owners with weapons of mass promise. In the text from somewhere high in a loft a piano is tuned. A drizzle of notes follows and so do you to the next limited hangout ordering sound bites: one method for refuting a summons from the Ways and Means Committee. This is how you listen for the humming engine of done. Pause and ask is this enough? It’s impossible in this world to trade neon for argon and so there you are like a swizzle stick in a drink going tink tink against something of a swirling exterior. Outside - the collective of doppelgangers lies down in the street to reminisce over their Faye Dunaways. Later they’ll knit a scarf of pronouns wear a house like a suit of mutual kindness. Scant sanctuary in the fog of this wrecked century we are living in an age that calls darkness light.*

-- revenant of a runaway: you once were.

Autumn flickers its tongues and pillars by the lakeshore where live oaks shade through their séance of lost images. The children of a present day giggle their bread crumbs into the ducks’ hissing group therapy. Anoles skitter palmetto. Farther back, swagger merchants are honey badgering, slinging mesmerize at potentials. I take the whole of it in and conjure my shun with a prayer that tastes in my mouth like a hand of broken fingers decayed through half-lives of xenon. Then comes the orange and the orange blossoms until it all falls like salt on physical silver. The miniature Camus in my homunculus is telling me: briefly it is night, falsely layered and gone liquid dreamy in the infomercial. When my indigenous selves feel the fluffy existential angst of so many missed cello lessons I can’t help but cry out. O Sister of Despair- is that me on the ground peering up your skirt? I need to feel better so I eat a martyr and touch the calming breeze in the eucalypts. The thump in the atria announces the narrative’s shifting tense and I float through like a balloon untethered to gain another sky.

-- round robin life: a sea of us.

It’s the strain in the voice I listen for. Because half the necessary and half the unneeded and so even a skinny trips me up. The pause vanished, swallowed up by the uninhabited crowd, got carried away was carried away across the long ellipsis. So I crawled through my animal and came back out emergent to a sainthood of rush hour traffic. The Gospel of Colossus tells a time of Jesus baptizing his gigantic rooster in the River Jordan, the afterwards of riding the sacred beast into Jerusalem to beat the bankers’ asses, the people following, inheriting all of the necessary, discarding wholly the unneeded; this beautiful story, the heresies we love. Frayed threads of the debate unravel, give way to an unbounded. The abracadabra waves its hands over a swirling meme-flux, manufactures the electorate’s Tao. Yin stands at the bully pulpit sniffing krypton labeled Sweet Drone Attack of Peace while Yang soaks through television screens spewing the helium miasma we call Gorgeous Asshole of Capitalism. In the streets of us this sea of us stripping away…mottled scales of our Stockholm syndromes.

--things fall apart: the center cannot hold*

She could for flight – her aviatrix in a Matisse sky. Occult sun curtained in cloudy silk, the hot pinks and washed out blues bleeding through and the longer blues dripping their glycol scent onto grey. She could for sleep – descendent nude spilling ochre angles and the angels of white spaces roosting obliquely on the crumbling stone. This world was made to flicker she said: the crow in the periphery, the tinge of lavender, the daughters of radon. In random night her spirit appears as agent provocateur in the center of a harem of Frida Kahlos. If all her roses are wild, if sometimes she tells the story of horses and turpentine pines, of the brush of history and the rain that falls upwards into a net of stars where loss is a statement of winter punctuated in undying ingle. If coming to in a flash of desert neon, with the driving leveled out, cross-country and simple, and Garcia on the radio singing See here how everything lead up to this day…*

-- arriving at the horizon: against granite

Hummingbird became the locus of tender perceptions. Wax depths of magnolia leaves and hibiscus shaped communal refuge. The ending it took to restore the sea to the sky. Father’s measuring stick being too short to record the length of the late romances. So now the door just hangs from its broken hinge, creaking or banging in the wind that emanates its cold blue distance. Thump thump in the atria. I keep trying to imagine how it feels to forage in a forest like an animal undreamt of. The days go by. Try to feel my fingers in the cool warmth of northern waters, a realm of August before time rolled away. I need simple words for saying no simple words for saying simple things. I need simple pleasures like counting women in church to keep me from wandering through Italy homesick for penguins, to keep the blue spiders from eating my soles.* A xenon script for the hypoxia. When the stranger train leaves the station you better believe I’ll be in my right mind better believe my cello lessons will all be paid for.

-- the noble air : once we were

The boom in the boomtowns, luxury liner living with the Eurodaddys and the dandies that once lined up at the argon merchant’s stall buying up copies of L’Con d’Irene. Grief – being the last partygoer to drink up all the dead soldiers. A ghost lifts you through the body of text to emerge into the sameness of stars. For rent day you retrieve a vision of lighthouse monarchs, prophesies of isotopes of the periodic table. An elegance of yesterday on the radio or the first waves of color, schoolbook photographs of the Wright brothers, their flight patterns arcing through the last century, longitudinally, enjoined to your own generational mayfly, there seems to be an applause, a pageantry of swirling dust, the barking choir of neighborhood dogs. Evidently the cool kids are reading Bakunin again. Frayed threads of the debate unravel, give way to an unbounded. Scratch scratch in the conscience, then…the exit of sleep-infested days, one prime number and all the night’s neon.


* “…we are living in an age that calls darkness light” – Stolen from the Arcade Fire song “My Body Is A Cage”

* --things fall apart: the center cannot hold – from Yeats “ The Second Coming”

* See here how everything lead up to this day…from the Grateful Dead song “Black Peter”; words by Robert Hunter.

* “…wandering through Italy homesick for penguins…” from the James Wright poem “Against Surrealism”
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2579 (view)
Posted: 4/9/2012 8:56:42 PM
^^^ I meant to say I liked that poem above.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 22 (view)
I Will Spill Your Blood
Posted: 3/27/2012 11:44:42 AM
Your poem is powerful. I read it 3 times. My favorite parts are the 2nd & 3rd stanzas.
I liked the conversational tone you maintained throughout, not easy to do. Great ending stanza.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2577 (view)
Posted: 2/14/2012 9:22:58 PM

Remember the night we became Cocteau
(though) not the autumn’s grace
You said sleep pretty people
I’m not human at all
The way her face of young girls went on shining
Knowing everything must end
Still I can’t think through ghosts
Memory being so often cruel
On the page it says exactly
Where I’m going
Your bad girls poking holes in the sky
It was night and the stars spilled out
Drinks and smokes amidst the banter of hipsters
There were good occasions in the society of gravity
Or was it the traveling days with lions
As the machines learning to love
Anything could happen
Just let me know
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2574 (view)
Posted: 2/10/2012 10:04:50 PM

I swallowed your fragrance. No I didn’t.
But I swallowed something
and coughed up an ellipsis. Now I feed
on the entrails of the night’s blue stars –
a practice they say is guaranteed
to make an honest man of me.

The wind has died in the sail’s alibi.
The corpse functions as a relay station.
It’s outside the widow
hanging upside down, transmitting
presidential orders to predator drones.
We’re inside, snug in our beds,
whacking off to murder movies.

Your language channel gummed up with meaty goo.
So I fixed it with a slosh formula
and filled a syringe
with your discarded angst. It registered clean.
A tremble boot or two, then
I went hunting for freaks.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2564 (view)
Posted: 12/29/2011 1:56:49 PM

In your last delusion you were saying you considered yourself the object of all language. Is that correct?

Tweeting into the void one compares the meat of the heart to that of the gluteus maximus. One finds that the root numbers of all things could have been manifested…

In the years since sweet Henrietta what have you written?

Mostly of the dissipation of fear. I’ve learned to wear anxiety like an old coat stitched with patches of laughter like army insignia.

How long has your father been missing?

For as long as I can remember missing him.

How should I file the last report? Does it go under Japanese cherry blossoms or would it be the Drake equation?

My sigh dissolves in the white sky. A miracle we both saw.

Recently you were asked if you would ever remarry. I was busy at the porn screen searching for the correct scenario and wasn’t paying attention. Please re respond.

I’ve given up the lottery and as to religion am unable to escape if the ending…

In that case behold the update to the code pink which is haunting yet remains optimistic here in the depths of the Even Greater Depression when the police and army come…

My radical passivity is like an unboxed AK-47 and a drum as well.

Have you considered becoming a woman?

I have become a disciple of Flannery O’Connor going so far as to obtain a peacock.

What is the nature of the disease of addiction?

In the center is a sleeping infused with erasure; avoidance obtained via relationships with objects and rituals.

Does one escape with the eyes?

Only with the eyes, let those that have them build houses out of clouds.

What is the message of the 99%?

Themselves in the street.

What is the message of the 99%?

One hopes for a production of Ubu Roi received with welcoming arms at Ground Zero. A haunting yet optimistic impulse to shake it on out.

My life is often desolate and filled with nostalgic yearning out of which I tend to fleetingly lean into thoughts of suicide. I’m ashamed to think this way. What should I do?

Establish yourself as a third party. Upset the internal election.

How do you go on vacation?

The way a sparrow falls. In gorgeous silence through the depths of the world.

How do you celebrate yourself?

Like a platypus I make myself up with left over parts from the hodge podge of existence.

When will the poem begin?

In the evensong of the winter solstice among the arguments for Jupiter and again in the pre-dawn as Mercury’s syntax rises becoming visible.

How do you know the poem ends?

One feels it in the flesh like the need to masturbate.

What about your enemies?

Each has moved on through the throat song of evolution. Now they live on the outskirts, off in the hinterlands, in luxury burrows, growing fur and surviving well through the hard winters…

At what point will you give up on poetry?

Sun cut throat*

Have you bothered to read the Myth of Sisyphus?

Once after swallowing a bottle of Pamelor.

What was your experience?

I fell asleep and dreamt a pretty girl was singing 500 Miles to me.

How did that make you feel?

Like a small boy in Montreal with a desire to grow up and become a horse named Seabiscuit.

In my own dreams images of my family weave through me sometimes with a nostalgia both false and real. Also I feel each of my past lovers incorporated within my cells in a way that is both sexual and healing so that all the old hates and hurts go away, taking leave from both sides of the ledger. The only thing is I have no body because in my dreams I’m a house made of clouds which is what existence feels like to me. What do you think?

I’m thinking of Marvin Gaye coming through from heaven.

What do you think of when a woman is naked before you?

The sun jetting out in birds of plumed fire but not yet. That and Marvin Gaye
coming through.

If love were to be described as a country what would its political structure be like?

Everything is based on Fibonacci sequences and the cadences of the sea. Somehow even Charlie Chaplin rises out of these simple precedents.

Is the poetry of Jim Carroll relevant to my life?

Like it or not the city and its constructs. Even the countryside has its own skyscrapers. All is to be counted even the one thing that remains. As with moths, in the company of gulls genuflection is the appropriate response to grace.

In the middle of your life when you found yourself in a dark wood having wandered from the straight way did you begin to read self help books?

Buckets of sky blue paint.
A flamboyant spread a down-turned hand
Its fingers flowering scarlet in jeweled vibrancy
Or in wounds.
Miniature swallows animating sallow dusk
Have been replaced
With red caps of sandhill cranes
Another life.

* Sun Cut Throat - Last line of Apollinaire's poem Zone
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2561 (view)
Posted: 12/19/2011 10:35:41 PM

talk about putting people the fuck to sleep.

Truth-Are you saying the poem was boring?
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2556 (view)
Posted: 12/18/2011 6:09:48 PM
(This is my last communique from the planet of the monsters…Roberto Bolano)

In life Roberto Bolano never inhabited the streets of Orlando
In death he walks slow becoming one with the prostitutes
And when it rains he seems to be swimming
A pelagic thing gracefully moving through the depths of a dream
Swallowing the lower clouds and spitting them back
Just to watch them float upwards
Like the corpse of a lion

Its his vindication
He will remind you of that
As you meet up with him somewhere
Maybe on Colonial Boulevard
Coming at you like an oncologist
Disguised as a detective
Inquiring about the facts of American history

Or you might find him on Portale Street
Stepping out of the body of the Korean postman
(The one with the bad attitude)
Sardonically admonishing
Try reading more Borges
As he hands over your John Ashberry
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 3 (view)
Love Sonnet
Posted: 12/15/2011 7:41:39 PM

As someone who co-edits
a sonnet publication, at present one involving sonnet writers
from around the world, I have to say that this would not get past
the editors.

But it would get you a step or two towards the Nobel.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2554 (view)
Posted: 12/1/2011 8:49:06 PM

You are crying from that sense of everything being wrong.

I think of making the perfect cup of tea, carrying it to the study where it slips from my hands and shatters on the floor. All of this occurs in slow motion imperceptibly over decades.

You are crying from that sense of everything being wrong.

In the town hall a Julius is a gleeful chorus of himself – I love to steal…uh huh uh huh…

When all is said and done will you sleep with me?

Only in the wilderness of a cloud

Oh yes gaze down
Upon the surface of ponds
Into the eye sheen of suns

Stick figure chains
Opening the sky’s angles

For bread like diamonds
And Satan falling again
Floating in brown flurries
Autumn leaves of blackjack

Scrunch and secure the earth’s last resources
The king’s armies passing through garden plots

Mosquitoes machined and nano-birds

I buzz too. Am separated and sealed
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2552 (view)
Posted: 11/4/2011 12:09:30 AM

Interior wave: a ho-hum of possibilities


…they labored in shifts, men by day, birds by twilight

Shroud of vertigo beneath
the flock’s reverse flight
The red winter sky


Bears witness
to this sentence
so shotgun specific

Her mouth of vowels
A fable awaiting liberation
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2551 (view)
Posted: 10/29/2011 9:41:21 PM

Rick Perry was depressed for he had saved up his lunch money, pressed his hair, and trotted on over to the American Lube in downtown Longwood, Florida to get his oil changed.

But the lube men said “so sorry Mr. Governor but no more American lube for you…now you get China Lube…now you really shoot off coyote face debate long time gunslinger boom boom”

And with that they greased up the Governor’s backside and popped in a bucket of frogs.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2549 (view)
Posted: 10/18/2011 7:00:18 PM

An arrival of iterated waves in the headwaters
Where frequency spreads itself on a palm of glass –
A screen, the headlines in overlay
Bannered and shifting, adrift on tabula rasa
A script in perpetual modulation
Parsed and pushed through tubes of
Pursed lips
Lipstick and legs, breasts
And perfect political hair

A serving of the national progymnasmata


In the old days
It was one thing
Then and then and then


Echoing in something of a


The axiom of the first metronome
Intermittently dis ----

-- rupted

By that of the second

In turn pierced through
with disfigured code

Now a lava gurgles in the brooks of this century
Bread riots seep in the body -
Upwards and throughout

The departure is reminiscent of pelicans-
V- formation fading and the long gaze
Across decennary green
What departs remains
Sunk deep in the cellular plasma
Enormous yesterday I thought of you
Or yesterday like this city distilled in my shoes
Yesterday like the air above the bay
Where the gales recopy themselves and rise
On the border in the symbolist’s dream
A whirring joy ride laced with
Threads of gold from the golden age

Between Phosphorus and Hesperus
In the country of the text
The people of these times find
Temporary salvation in bowling
The night divided
Its infinitesimal seas
Never flooding into day

Morning stars slips sly
The quick card to daylight’s sleeve
I don a slouch suit, comb my hair
Baader-Meinhof style
Turn and bark at the TV
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2 (view)
a tentative anglophile poet twisting syntax
Posted: 8/30/2011 2:51:38 PM
I really enjoyed reading the poem, read thrice through and read the other entry of the fable as well. Nice writing.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 50 (view)
Best Book Ever
Posted: 4/22/2011 8:40:45 PM
I saw the Brothers Karamazov, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, and 1984 listed. Those are really up there. Also

1. The Painted Bird-Jerzy Kozinski
2. The Member Of The Wedding & The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter -Carson McCullers
3. One Hundred Years Of Solitude-Gabriel Marquez
4. Candide-Voltaire
5. Sometimes A Great Notion-Ken Kesey
7. Maldoror- Comte de Lautreamont (Isidore Ducasse)
8. Mosquito Coast- Paul Theroux
9. Seabiscuit - Laura Hillenbrand (After reading this I was so inspired that I wanted to change my name to Seabiscuit...Also Laura Hillenbrand is really hot).

Honorable Mention : The Haunted Vagina - Carlton Mellick III
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2531 (view)
Posted: 4/17/2011 11:02:56 AM

A horse on three legs somewhere
In the heart of Villa del Refugio
You were there; your leathery wings
Nearly threadbare
Yet still you soared
On tracks of never-ending light
O’er the mighty Rio Grande
To the dark halls of the presidio

With trembling hands
You collected your last known surroundings
On a postcard from 1952
You used a voice made from empty motor courts
Old neon signs (the cruder the better)
And another voice
Like the silver screen silk of a Lillian Gish
And all you were asking for was

Someone to let you in
And all of you were saying
Be comfortable, creatures
Fear is excruciating but therein lies the answer
As each end looms and subsides
Truths arise within the illusions of order
Like a hail of bombs giving birth to saviors
In every mind- a swarm and a mutiny

And the mysteries of missing them
I like to remember how she warned
There was a sickness in her Jesus
I hear deep bells and drums building
Explosions in some far flung sky
Ghosts are welcome here
Especially when they day is being born
When it’s appropriate to be afraid

Then I am on this young mountain
In this house like the suddenly hollow white of silence
An automobile silence of rock n’roll
And all the dangerous traveling
If I could I would choose horses
Outside the local authorities
The federales and National Party saying
I love you, I’m going to blow up your school

If I could return as a waltz of ex-cowboys
Full of tired minds and tired eyes
I would still have enough in me
To wish only happiness through your door
Asking with my poor man’s memory
Have you yet passed through this night?
Where the moon is down and you finally see
How all the dogs stack up

NOTE- Many of the above lines were lifted (direct or paraphrased) from song titles from the post-rock groups (1) This Will Destroy You (2) Explosions In The Sky (3) Red Sparowes and (4) Mogwai.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2529 (view)
Posted: 4/9/2011 7:48:31 PM

Yes it was agreed speaking as you did through the red rectangle

Her Euclid and yours galloping side by side down the postulated trails

Been so busy working hard on the monk

Goading him toward usefulness

When she’s deep in the telling of Lover XYZ

You hold on realizing a change that just maybe you won’t disbelieve

Then wondering if you could trade in that old Oprah

For a new BMW

Starry night of acoustics running through the snug of a bread-shaped house

You want her moon to glow in your hands like the face of a snow owl

Tight wire through the clouds and all that tell tale transcendence

As you watch yourself disappear
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2527 (view)
Posted: 3/22/2011 7:40:34 PM

Sun committing a last act of blue

Flame & the scent of phlox

In the quadrature, our shadows

Conjoined with the animals

A newly astute sense of hearing

Covers the nation

Elevens every day now

Makes me want to be a sad-eyed boy breathing cinema

& crying

Like Chuck Norris does

When he hears John Frusciante’s guitar
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2526 (view)
Posted: 3/22/2011 7:39:58 PM
Really liked that poem trulio

More phlox
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 43 (view)
Your Pussy's Glued To A Building On Fire
Posted: 3/22/2011 7:13:22 PM
Your Pussy's Glued To A Building On Fire
(by John Frusciante)

Your pussy's glued to a building on fire
I paint my mind just cuz I'm alive
If you see me roaming the hillside
Won't you come along?
You paint your eyes
Mine are in the sky
No worldly word I could say could be golden
The smile on my face isn't always real
But the way you make me feel is all that's really real
You little duck house


"What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart? but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music." ...Kierkegaard
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2521 (view)
Posted: 2/18/2011 7:27:56 AM

The wall out there

You have often considered
The sky with its hazy light
A stream or a road
Definitely rubbed out
You are also erased

And words pass through with another voice
Once it said
Personality of being alive
The fluids in that

A jigsaw puzzle inserts itself
In the last nerve

The walled out over there

A collective gasp of swindled pensioners
How could it happen-in this country?

In this country
In this world
In this century

How could it be
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2520 (view)
Posted: 2/18/2011 7:26:37 AM
Thanks TNT

And thanks for posting poems-Purple & 60
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2517 (view)
Posted: 2/12/2011 7:54:06 PM

The man guarding the door who always lies
and the one guarding the door who never lies.

And the third man who tells the truth fifty-fifty.

Inside with bad odds and outside worse.

A breath, a field, the extinguished light of 2.8 million stars, an immense certainty.

April’s percussion drums within. Words spill out of a painted voice. Watered in the hum, they root through the interstices of stones. Salamander, séance, palm, sprung cedar, skyline, deluge.

Years later they and the ones of years later
Or of hours and our heads in the crowd
To split winter against an army of voting histrionics
We have no questions. See how our name floats
lighter than air, oozing vowel and fragrant fragment.

The human mouths of us saying Boston,
saying Chicago and Los Angeles, straying
far and wide, saying far and wide.

Punked and spunked in the fairy tale machinery
with the ejaculate of the good time daddies.
Arms and legs against the world, exhaling tear gas.
Boots on the ground, falling through
trapdoors of projective currency. Sun-burst poppy.
Look glory international we.

Label white ooze of vowels and black tar sea.

Drawn against the folded sky,
a shifting skirt as necessary to back pedal.

The folks in the balcony are just playing off.
Burning through teeth to gain the ontological feel of it.

Oblivion full of afternoon.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2509 (view)
Posted: 1/16/2011 10:52:56 PM
(from DECADES)


You lean into life {C. M. Kornbluth} as if indenting paragraphs {Juan Ramon Jimenez} In seven years you are replaced {Gladys Presley :: Frederic Joliot } yet you remain {Big Bill Broonzy :: Roger Martin du Gard :: Ernest Lawrence} a witness to great discoveries {Robert W. Service :: Pope Pius II :: G. E. Moore :: Dorothy Canfield Fisher :: Tyrone Power} At CERN {Mel Ott} the Large Hadron Collider is hot on the trail of the Higgs-Boson {Wolfgang Pauli} soon street poets will rhyme with orange.


Crows crowding a power line like words in a David Foster Wallace sentence {Neal Cassidy} One leaves {Howard Lindsay} five leave {Frankie Lymon :: Yuri Gagarin} soon they depart en masse like cars leaving the cinema {Bobby Driscoll :: Martin Luther King :: Edna Ferber} Clouds creeping across the sky like Pentagon missions {George Gamow :: Lurleen Burns Wallace :: Marion Lorne :: Husband E. Kimmel :: Little Willie John} The ommatidia of a fly’s compound eye receiving battlefield images {Helen Keller :: Dorothy Gish :: Randolph Churchill :: Robert Kennedy :: Salvatore Quasimodo :: Wes Montgomery :: Otto Hahn :: Marcel Duchamp} like an array of NASA screens in Houston {Francis Biddle} Your shadow {Conrad Richter} imbibing human growth hormone {Upton Sinclair :: Max Brod} stepping away from you {Karl Barth :: Tallulah Bankhead :: John Steinbeck} striking out on its own.


The Zen master said remember {John D. MacArthur} not if {Hubert Humphrey} but when {Kurt Gödel :: Wendy Barrie} your socks are too aggressive {Gaston Julia :: Will Geer :: Aldo Moro} take them off {Louis Zukovsky :: Bob Crane :: John D. Rockefeller III :: Pope Paul VI :: Robert Shaw} and remove your feet {Keith Moon :: Willy Messerschmitt :: Pope John Paul I :: Edgar Bergen :: Nancy Spungen :: Gig Young :: Charles Tandy :: Gene Tunney} but do not {Norman Rockwell} remain in one place {Margaret Mead} Then he said {Jim Jones :: Leo Ryan} be good to the revelations of your dreams {Harvey Milk :: Willie Moscone :: Golda Meir} and like a bee {Ed Wood} flew away in search of the stars’ opening petals {Chill Wills} I believe he’s still searching.


Lacking magical wounds {Trevor Howard} the rot of domicile {Chiang Ching-Kuo} there is a little seeping seething {Heather O’Rourke :: Richard Feynman} within {Divine :: Andy Gibb :: John Holmes} a digital dawn staring out at the world {Milton Caniff :: Alan Paton :: Robert Heinlein :: Kim Philby :: Louis L’Amour} personal eclipse {Hillel Slovak :: Nico :: Alan Napier :: Jean-Michel Basquiat :: Roy Buchanan :: Enzo Ferrari :: Franklin D. Roosevelt, Jr. :: Muhammed Zia ul-Haq} some slow rowing {Luis W. Alvarez} towards a shore never distant {Billy Carter} In the middle of the library {John Houseman :: Christina Onassis} I found myself lost {John Carradine :: Roy Orbison :: Richard S. Castellano} amidst shelves of dark wood {Max Robinson} and self-help books {Bob Steele} having lost the true path.


Meeting her glance {Sonny Bono} I wanted to ask questions {Carl Perkins} that had been forgotten {Jack Lord :: Samuel Eilenberg} a way of saying {Karla Faye Tucker :: Falco :: Carl Wilson} I have learned to become {Bob Merrill :: Grandpa Jones :: Henny Youngman :: Ray Nitschke :: Lloyd Bridges} almost enough {Benjamin Spock :: Ferry Porsche :: Bella Abzug :: Rob Pilatus :: Cozy Powell :: Wendy O. Williams :: Tammy Wynette :: Maurice H. Stans} yet {Pol Pot :: Linda McCartney :: Octavio Paz :: Jean-Francois Lyotard :: James Earl Ray :: Carlos Castaneda :: Eldridge Cleaver :: Eddie Rabbitt :: Bebe Rebozo :: Frank Sinatra :: Phil Hartman :: Barry Goldwater :: Samuel Yorty} I am not enough {Leo Buscaglia :: Roy Rogers :: Harold Butler :: Miroslav Holub ::****McDonald :: Alan Shepard :: Maureen O’Sullivan :: E. G. Marshall :: Lewis E. Powell :: Ted Hughes :: Allen Drury :: George Wallace :: Tom Bradley :: Gene Autry :: Roddy McDowall :: Clark Clifford :: Bob Kane :: Stokley Carmichael :: Weeb Ewbank :: Esther Rolle :: Flip Wilson} Somnolence and shadows {Albert Gore, Sr.} still exist {Lawton Chiles} within the afternoon rains {Mo Udall :: Norman Fell} morning still laughs a little like old summers.


Many years {Phil Agee} when my eyes were {Edmund Hillary} feral cats {Bobby Fischer :: Suzanne Pleshette } outside the windows {Heath Ledger :: Christian Brando :: Suharto} little hunters in the wood {Margaret Truman :: Earl Butz :: Maharishi Mahesh Yogi :: Robert Jastrow :: Roy Scheider} I scattered my thoughts {Alain Robbe-Grillet :: William F. Buckley :: Gary Gygax :: Richard J. Durrell :: Howard Metzenbaum :: Arthur C. Clarke :: Richard Widmark :: Dith Pran} like pieces of tin {Charlton Heston :: Aime Cesaire :: Albert Hofmann :: Hamilton Jordon :: Dick Martin :: Sydney Pollack :: Harvey Korman :: Yves Saint Laurent :: Bo Diddley :: Jim McKay :: Tim Russert :: Cyd Charisse :: George Carlin} melted like a Florida snowflake {Larry Harmon :: Jesse Helms :: Evelyn Keyes :: Estelle Getty :: Bruce Ivins :: Alexander Solzenitsyn :: Bernie Mac :: Isaac Hayes :: Henri Cartan :: John Archibald Wheeler :: Jerry Reed :: David Foster Wallace :: Rick Wright :: Paul Newman :: Hayden Carruth :: Anne Pressly :: Studs Terkel :: Jimmy Carl Black :: Michael Crichton :: Kiyoshi Ito :: Arthur Shawcross} among the abandoned machines {Thomas M. Hunt} reminding me of former {Mitch Mitchell} younger worlds {Betty James :: Paul Benedict} and though sometimes {Odetta :: Sunny von Bulow :: Bettie Page} I was young too {Van Johnson :: Majel Barrett :: W. Mark Felt :: Samuel P. Huntington :: Harold Pinter} my legs gathered me away {Eartha Kitt} and laid me down in fields of probability.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2507 (view)
Posted: 1/16/2011 7:35:56 PM

Since the Apocalypse is

…a spell for controlling the pearly lights of stars a grey god is barking layering the meadow in Foxgloves and Deadmens’ bells vespers pealing to almost or away the elusive velocity of remaining…

Right around the corner

…her top blouse buttons undone the rarified visage of a blazing semiotics lifts its visage from her open laptop she is someone knitting the deep blue intertextuality her book of signs speaking of other signs I am standing here by the clay cliffs watching swallows a raft floating far out at sea if I think of dancers they swirl by the gate there among the dark ivy reading maps of the inward country…

There is the will

…interchange iris with an iris my ear is reasonable I hear the song called vacant smile in the private afternoon the ritual of renaming she said eyes of fire I thought of drowning inside a sea of suns any of various trees and shrubs of the genus Casuarina having jointed stems and whorls of scalelike leaves; some yield heavy hardwood…

Soon to ask

…the weight of evidence stones impossibly symmetrical so on the experts testifying saying there is the leopard’s spots hence the band of holes there is this thing so there is that thing one oblivion oblivious to techno-metaphor one asleep inside sporting events bubbling pop songs one duct taped in dynamite onward mountain pool shimmering glint of a surface enough go onward…

Her to sleep

…a flock of dreams brought high in a circle about the noctilucent head driving through a shiver a desire to be covered with the earth of Man Ray’s black and white nudes a request of holiday in the hinterlands notes of a speech the last of the body’s arms and legs great eyeful that once swallowed the city’s altered syntaxes of carnival lights share my dreaming if only briefly…

With me.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2505 (view)
Posted: 1/14/2011 9:29:23 AM

O Jackie O

Jackie O, Jackie O

I want to climb inside of you
And go where you go

O Jackie
Jackie O
Jackie O

The life you didn’t get
Was like an America
That never was
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2504 (view)
Posted: 1/12/2011 7:43:47 AM
TWO REPLIES-one for revoskeepnus and one for trulio.

Reply to revoskeepnus: You’re question is not dumb at all. I think I’ll try to answer it.

The theme of these poems is the passage of time.

In the poem I just did, entitled ENDING IN SIXES, the first stanza is for the year 1956
( the year I was born) , the second is for the year 1966, and so on, up to the year 2006. The names in curly brackets are from a website called “Died in (insert year)”. The website gives a list of famous people who died in a given year- They can be movie stars, singers, musicians, artists, poets, writers, politicians, relatives of famous people, film directors, athletes, scientists, mathematicians, Mafioso and other criminals, crime victims, dictators, religious figures, etc. In each stanza I used two criteria in picking the names in the curly brackets: (1) the name refers to a person whose death occurred in the year for the stanza and (2) I was familiar with the person.

After selecting the names for a particular year, I arrange them in a list, according to date of death, beginning with January 1 and ending at December 31. Then I choose a grouping scheme. For example, in ENDING IN SIXES, I used a Fibonacci sequential grouping scheme using the Fibonacci sequence: 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,…(each number in the list is the sum of the previous two). I never got past 21 because the lists of names were not long enough. So when I started running out of names for a particular year, I would start over at 1,1,2,3,…etc. I noticed this created a swelling effect, like under a bell curve, and I liked this. So this is something that evolved in the writing.

In some of the other “poems” I used different grouping schemes. In one case I used a scheme based on the Lucas sequence, in another I based the groupings on the Pell sequence, and in one case I grouped the names by death dates falling in the different months of the year.

Then in between the curly brackets I would write words or phrases, something of a “poem”. I inserted the curly bracketed names in lieu of punctuation. I’m not good with punctuation and also I would sometimes find it convenient to break this rule. So this rule isn’t hard and fast. The “poem” between the curly brackets could vary. In some cases it was autobiographical but in other cases it was impressionist or slightly politically flavored angst (I confess).

I got the idea for the poems by thinking about my parents which in effect is a way of thinking about life. I remember, as a child, my mother or father would mention that some famous person had died that day. Usually it was a movie star or a singer but sometimes it would be a politician. I remember when General Douglas MacArthur died and they flew the flags at half mast. I had to ask my mother who he was and she explained he was a famous general from WWII and Korea and she went into his controversy with Truman and about the flags. I don’t remember anything else about that day-just MacArthur’s death and my conversation with my mother.

Sometimes, at the dinner table let’s say, when one of my parents would announce to the other, that a certain movie star died, let’s say Gary Cooper or Clark Gable, I could sense within them, or imagine I sensed, that they were saying to each other something like “little by little, we too are drifting, away, and out of this world”.

The biggest memory linking name on the list has to be JFK. Anyone who is old enough to remember his assassination has the event burned in their brain. I was 7 at the time and in 2nd grade. I was on the playground at the time when the teachers called us in. The next day was Saturday and Jack Ruby shot Oswald. I remember thinking that was suspicious (I’ve been a conspiracy theorist since the age of 7). I also remember the Saturday cartoon shows being cancelled due to all the news coverage. As I wrote the ENDING IN THREES “poem” I remember being disappointed in myself when I realized that what really concerned me at the time was the loss of my Saturday morning cartoons not the loss of JFK. I have since reassessed the loss and have a better though sadder perspective.

The poems are about loss. For example, I haven’t written ENDING IN ZEROS yet, but it contains the death of John Lennon. For me, it’s the next biggest name, after JFK, in all the lists. But RFK and MLK are also very high on my memory linking list.

What I was really trying to do was link the loss of personal and/or communal moments or time with celebrity deaths.

Each year famous people die.

Some names are huge and violently sudden (JFK,RFK, MLK [The K's], John Lennon).
Some names are terrible and infamous (Henry Lee Lucas, Ted Bundy, Pol Pot)
Some are smaller but very comforting (my favorites in this category are Don Knotts and Elizabeth Montgomery)
Many are premature and tragic (Marilyn Monroe, John Belushi, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, Michael Jackson)

In a way (intentional) the lists are being used as emotional prompters for the reader, emotional Rorschach or litmus tests, meant to elicit feelings of sadness or loss.

And when it happens don’t you just stop for a few minutes, stop in time, reflecting either consciously or subconsciously, saying …there goes another?

Reply to trulio: You are correct, there is a preponderance of American names. Almost all the movie stars are American. That’s because I know only a few other movie stars, almost all European, mostly British or French. Same with the athletes. I do a lot better with writers, scientists, and mathematicians. With musicians it will be mostly American and British. I’m American (statement of record not chest puffing) so the names I’m familiar with will mostly be the same…..But on dictators I’m global!
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2501 (view)
Posted: 1/8/2011 8:13:15 PM
(from DECADES)


No other (sane) choice {H. L. Mencken} save ataraxia {A. A. Milne} which explains the finger tapping {Connie Mack, Sr. :: H. B. Reese} should I say {Max Beerbohm :: Jackson Pollack :: Bertolt Brecht} need I say {Konstantin von Neurath :: Bela Lugosi :: Alfred Kinsey :: William Boeing :: Art Tatum} gently {Tommy Dorsey} on the everywhere of a hologram.


Because {Buster Keaton} top down {Sophie Tucker} a racing convertible chokes {Alfred Sloan :: Chester Nimitz} mistaking Plato shadows for ancestral dust {Anna Akhmatova :: Virginia Hill :: C. S. Forester} these too {Evelyn Waugh :: Georges Duhammel :: Sepp Dietrich :: Ed Wynn :: Frank O’Hara} were previous {Jean Arp :: Montgomery Clift :: Charles Whitman :: Lenny Bruce :: Cordwainer Smith :: Margaret Sanger :: Mina Loy :: Andre Breton} top down {Johnny Kidd} they went racing {Walt Disney} through shadows.


Paradoxically {Rudolph Minkowski} within the blue wash {Zhou Enlai} of old televisions {Howlin Wolf :: Agatha Christie} my drowsy desertion {Werner Heisenberg :: Percy Faith :: Lee J. Cobb} sidelines me from {Sal Mineo :: Max Ernst :: Howard Hughes :: Phil Ochs :: Martin Heidegger} the parade of zeroes and ones {Victor Varconi :: J. Paul Getty, Sr. :: Johnny Mercer :: Ted Mack :: Mickey Cohen :: Fritz Lang :: Jimmy Reed :: Mao Zedong} I am small {Carlos Gambino} and make myself smaller {James McAuley} crossing thresholds of personal {Raymond Queaneau :: Man Ray} twos and other primes {Trofim Lysenko :: Andre Malraux :: Irving Price} indenting night {Richard J. Daley} with hollows {Freddie King} of sanctuary.


The last road sign reads {Bob Kaufman} Enduring Myth-15 Miles {Donna Reed} or was it years {L. Frank Hubbard :: Christa McAuliffe} How far back {Frank Herbert :: Barry Seal :: J. Krishnamurti} when everything was made of Saturdays {Olof Palme :: Richard Manuel :: Georgia O’Keeffe :: Jacob Javits :: Ray Milland} An umbilical cord through villages {Bernard Malamud :: James Cagney :: John Ciardi :: Simone de Beauvoir :: Jean Genet :: Harold Arlen :: Otto Preminger :: Broderick Crawford} townships and cities too {Herschel Bernardi :: Benny Goodman :: Brion Gysin :: Jorge Luis Borges :: Marlin Perkins :: Kate Smith :: Len Bias :: W. Averill Harriman :: Rudy Valee :: Hyman Rickover :: Joseph Vlasic :: Roy Cohn :: Howard Jarvis} when wisped veils of scarlet {Ted Knight} presaged the twilight {Cliff Burton} and neon modernized the motor courts {Forrest Tucker :: Vyacheslav Molotov} Was it like that {Scatman Crothers :: Cary Grant :: Desi Arnaz} or progression {V. C. Andrews} succession of appearance and erasure {Elsa Lanchester} state of removal - full fields gone flush or further on to {Terry Dolan :: Andrei Tarkovsky} pullulations of techno-nouns.


What divides two mouths {Francois Mitterrand} a kiss or a scream {Walter M. Miller, Jr.} a breath of words condensed {Minnesota Fats :: Sydney Korshak} on a pane of glass {Joseph Brodsky :: Jerry Siegal :: Gene Kelly} All of these {McLean Stevenson :: Tommy Rettig :: Pat Brown :: Haing S. Ngor :: Marguerite Duras} like scattered stars {Minnie Pearl :: George Burns :: Vince Edwards :: Odysseas Elytis :: Ed Muskie :: David Packard :: Ron Brown :: Greer Garson} minute and blown {Ben Johnson :: Jimmy the Greek :: Erma Bombeck :: William Colby :: Johnny “Guitar” Watson :: Timothy Leary :: Ray Combs :: Ella Fitzgerald :: William T. Cahill :: Melvin Belli :: Claudette Colbert :: Tupac Shakur :: Mac Bundy} in immense stellar wind {Spiro T. Agnew} or these {Paul Erdos} wondrously awash {Seymour Cray :: Ted Bessell} in the ether of Lecomte’s pre-existence {Diana Trilling :: Morey Amsterdam :: Emperor Bokassa I} to these {Mario Savio :: Alger Hiss :: Abdus Salam :: Tiny Tim :: Pete Rozelle} as a serpent’s swallowed tail {Alex Shoenbaum} Fade {Mary Leakey} or glow {Faron Young :: Marcello Mastroianni} I hear the silence {Carl Sagan :: JonBenet Ramsey :: Jack Nance} in the embers.


Two or three {John Wojtowicz} extremely superb minutes {Hugh Thompson} an ocean of that {Lou Rawls :: Heinrich Harrer} conjoined with the strange happiness {Cleon Skousen :: Shelley Winters :: Wilson Pickett} of yet to be {Coretta Scott King :: Al Lewis :: Betty Friedan :: Alan Shalleck :: Peter Benchley} so always {Don Knotts :: Dennis Weaver :: Darren McGavin :: Owen Chamberlain :: Harry Browne :: Jack Wild :: Dana Reeve :: Slobodan Milosevic} rising upwards {Maureen Stapleton :: Oleg Cassini :: Buck Owens :: Lyn Nofziger :: Stanislaw Lem :: Caspar Weinberger :: June Pointer :: William Sloane Coffin :: Muriel Spark :: John Kenneth Galbraith :: Abe Rosenthal :: Floyd Patterson :: Stanley Kunitz} to an absence of mountaintops {Lloyd Benston, Jr. :: Alex Toth :: Billy Preston :: Aaron Spelling :: Patsy Ramsey :: Ken Lay :: Syd Barrett :: Red Buttons :: Win Rockefeller :: Mickey Spillane :: Bob Thaves :: James Van Allen :: Mike Douglas :: Alfredo Stoessner :: Glenn Ford :: Bob Mathias :: Daniel Smith :: Ann Richards :: Patricia Kennedy Lawford :: Edward Albert :: Gerry Studds} The axiom of abeyance {Jane Wyatt} of heavenly hell {Arthur Hill} shows you the sky’s agreement {Brad Will :: Red Auerbach} the necessarily ellipsis {P. W. Botha :: William Styron :: Ed Bradley} trailing after {Jack Palance :: Milton Friedman :: Bo Schembechler :: Robert Altman :: Jeane Kirkpatrick} the final Z {Augusto Pinochet :: Peter Boyle :: Alan Shugart :: Joseph Barbera :: Elizabeth Allen :: Frank Stanton :: James Brown :: Gerald Ford} which is not and cannot be {Frank Campanella} the final Z.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2500 (view)
Posted: 1/8/2011 8:12:23 PM
Hey NV liked the Nick Cave spoof ...

'A little bird lit down on Henry Lee
She leaned herself against a fence
Just for a kiss or two
And with a little pen-knife held in her hand
She plugged him through and through ' ...Nick Cave

I liked your poem too wool_c...thanks for dropping by and posting.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2496 (view)
Posted: 1/1/2011 12:49:27 AM

I miss so many of the people you listed.

I forgot to say ...concerning this ...and concerning most of the names...a sense of loss was what I wanted to come across in the poems...the Maytag repairman is in the list...Aunt Bea and Miss Jane Hathaway...JFK...

And though we may not miss a Henry Lee Lucas...we miss the time within which he existed...and are sad for the lives he took, the lives he affected...sad that lives turn out like his...
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2495 (view)
Posted: 1/1/2011 12:32:10 AM
Just for the record-I cant think of a war in my lifetime that I've ever been in favor of-especially the ones going on now.

Peace back 60
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2493 (view)
Posted: 12/31/2010 11:57:34 PM
We seem to be talking about two different things. The lists are not political. The lines between the curly-bracketed names may or may not be political. Some of it is. Other parts are laments or memories. But the lists of names are not political. The idea of the poem stems from when I was a young child and I would hear my parents say "so and so died today" and it would be a famous (or infamous) person - a movie star, a politician, a singer, etc. It became within me a way of marking time. I'm not the only one who does it. Every year the media comes out with a "who died this year" list. I'm not saying anything with the lists concerning the deaths of soldiers or civilians-Americans, Canadians...or Iraqis. How could I be? It's just a list. Most of the names occurred years ago.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2491 (view)
Posted: 12/31/2010 10:56:16 PM
By any reasonable standards, Henry Lee Lucas was a terrible person. The people in the list for the poem ENDING IN ONES all have two things in common-(1) they died in one of the years 1961, 1971, 1981, 1991, or 2001 (objective) and (2) I was familiar with them (subjective). That's it. There is no judgment within the poem about whether the person was good or bad because the poem is not about that. It's about marking the passing of time through "celebrity" death.

It could be argued, within the lists, that there are worse ones that Henry Lee Lucas. Like Prescott Bush or Lyndon Johnson

I omitted Mohammed Atta and the others because I don't believe anything the government says about 911 or anything else.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2489 (view)
Posted: 12/31/2010 2:02:49 PM
( from DECADES)


Downtown air heavy with monosyllables and pigeons {Erwin Schrödinger :: Dashiell Hammett :: Patrice Lumumba} the grey busyness of a palpable prosperity {Maurice Merleau-Ponty :: Gary Cooper :: Rafael Leonidas Trujillo} In the pre-dawn hours skyscrapers lean down {Carl Jung} watch one tiny man {Louis-Ferdinand Celine :: Ernest Hemingway :: Ty Cobb} walking-his steps {Walter Bedell Smith} tracing the earth’s curvature {Dag Hammarskjöld :: Sumner Welles :: H. D.} meat on the table {Chico Marx} his body-without-organs {James Thurber :: Sam Payburn} all day forgiven {Frantz Fanon :: Grandma Moses :: Edith Wilson} to sleep at the end of the day all day.


A world of screens enters {Coco Chanel :: Bill W. :: Jacobo Arbenz} screams sleep within {Brock Chisholm :: J. C. Penney} At the counter {Philo Farnsworth :: Thomas E. Dewey} I am counted up and down {Igor Stravinsky :: Francois “Papa Doc” Duvalier :: George Jackson} am asked to remove my head {Ogden Nash :: Audie Murphy} now the pants-please {Rienhold Niebuhr} Because you see {Lawrence Bragg :: Jim Morrison :: Diane Arbus} they hate our freedom {Alfred Chester :: Bennett Cerf} to buy {Nikita Khrushchev :: Giorgos Sefaris :: Hugo Black} cars and television sets and the choices we have {Dean Acheson :: Gene Vincent :: Duane Allman} between forty different pairs of shoes {Edie Sedgwick :: Joe Adonis} Acid rain trickling down {Ralph Bunche :: Maurice McDonald :: Bobby Jones :: Roy O. Disney} into our bank accounts.


Like Montale’s sunflower her eyes were insane with light {Harold Urey :: Matthew “Stymie” Beard :: Richard Boone :: Adele Astaire} I would point out {Donald W. Douglas :: Wanda Hendrix :: Bill Haley :: Mike Bloomfield :: Jack Northrop} to my other selves {William S. Burroughs, Jr. :: E. Y. Harburg :: John S. McCain, Jr. :: DeWitt Wallace} ghost ships mooring in the bay {Omar Bradley :: Joe Louis :: Jules Stein} Saying this in the dark {Bobby Sands :: Nelson Algren :: Bob Marley :: William Saroyan} enclosed in the dusty future {Allen Ludden} where below the lid there continues {Ross Martin :: Harry Chapin} certain evolutionary implications {Omar Torrijos :: Anita Loos} A syntax of skeletal remains {Albert Speer :: Jacques Lacan :: Eugenio Montale :: Chief Dan George} sutured in the stratocumulus {Anwar Sadat :: Frank DeKova :: Moyshe Dayan :: Ariel Durant} Like circles in the oak {Will Durant :: Jack Albertson :: Natalie Wood} these belong here {Walter Knott :: Max Kohl :: Hoagy Carmichael} Waves frozen in the flowing glass.


Inevitably {Carl David Anderson :: John Russell :: Red Grange} one sky was torn apart by science {Nancy Kulp :: Danny Thomas :: John McCone :: George Gobel :: Artie Mitchell} and replaced by another {Edwin H. Land :: Arthur Murray :: Etheridge Knight :: LeRoy Collins :: Leo Fender :: Lee Atwater} The jungle grew a lush denseness with the resulting deluge of differends {Graham Greene :: John Heinz :: Natalie Schafer :: James Schuyler :: Steve Marriott :: Johnny Thunders :: Ken Curtis} Society noted the meta-narrative of its sex organs {Jerzy Kosinski :: Wilfrid Hyde-White :: Dennis Crosby :: Rajiv Gandhi :: Gene Clark} and was pleased {David Ruffin :: Stan Getz-} Strange attractors thumped below its sternum {Michael Landon :: Lee Remick :: Howard Nemerov :: James Franciscus :: Bert Convy :: Robert Motherwell :: Frank Rizzo :: Isaac Bashevis Singer} A sanctuary goes here {Colleen Dewhurst :: Paul Brown :: Soichiro Honda :: Harry Reasoner :: James Irwin} where two voices flesh-joined {Laura Riding :: Frank Capra :: Tom Tryon :: Dr. Seuss :: Klaus Barbi :: Oona Chaplin :: Miles Davis} repel the inevitable {Leo Durocher :: Redd Foxx :: Tennessee Ernie Ford :: Steven Jay Bernstein :: Gene Roddenberry :: Bill Graham} It is late afternoon {Frank Yerby :: Fred MacMurray :: Gene Tierney :: Yves Montand :: Klaus Kinski :: Eric Carr :: Freddie Mercury :: Ralph Bellamy} Another rain briefly returns them to life {Richard Speck} Surge of infinitesimals.


The balloon {Ray Walston :: William P. Rogers :: Teri Diver :: William Hewlett :: Leonard Woodcock :: Gregory Corso :: Peggy Lee} in becoming untethered {Dale Evans :: Anne Morrow Lindbergh :: William Masters :: Dale Earnhardt :: Stanley Kramer :: A. R. Ammons} becomes {Morton Downey, Jr. :: Henry Lee Lucas :: Robert Ludlum :: John Phillips :: Chung Ju Yung :: William Hanna :: Rowland Evans} a Vishnu {Ben G. Wright :: Joey Ramone} With eyes in reverse {Chandra Levy :: Douglas Adams :: Perry Como :: Whitman Mayo :: Charley Pell} it undreams {Hank Ketcham :: Imogene Coca :: Anthony Quinn :: Fletcher Prouty :: John Lee Hooker :: Carroll O’Connor :: Yvonne Dionne :: Jack Lemmon :: Chet Atkins} the world {Nikolay Basov :: Katharine Graham :: Eudora Welty :: Poul Anderson} Rising outbound {Jorge Amado :: Maureen Reagan :: Fred Hoyle :: Peter Maas} receding {Christiaan Barnard :: Troy Donaghue :: John P. O’Neill :: Dorothy McGuire :: Nguyen Van Thieu} with each further gale {Mike Mansfield} An orphan in the spinning arms {Ken Kesey :: Mary Kay Ash :: George Harrison :: John Knowles} of an {Stuart Adamson :: Foster Brooks} ellipsis…
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2488 (view)
Posted: 12/31/2010 2:02:01 PM
Thanks for the nice comments 60 & NV
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2485 (view)
Posted: 12/27/2010 1:45:28 PM


Blue pilot in the shape of a father {Robert Frost} Hero- what fearful beast has lain in your white forests {William Carlos Williams :: Patsy Kline} All these long years {Jason Robards, Sr. :: Pope John XII :: Medgar Evers :: Estes Kefauver :: W. E. B. Dubois} You were never among us {John Nordstrom :: Theodore Roethke :: Edith Piaf :: Jean Cocteau :: Jacques Hadamard :: Sylvia Plath :: Ngo Dinh Diem :: Ngo Dinh Nhu :: Luis Cemuda :: Aldous Huxley :: C. S. Lewis :: J. D. Tippit} though you cut through us {John Fitzgerald Kennedy} We who were your mute afternoons {Birdman of Alcatraz :: Lee Harvey Oswald} reifications of your abstract seed {Walt Anderson} Displacements of cloud {Tristan Tzara}


So this is life {Lyndon B. Johnson} I might have said in the form of an emergent castle {John Banner :: Wally Cox} skinless in the flamboyant wilderness {Winthrop Rockefeller :: Pearl Buck :: Chic Young :: Noel Coward :: Pablo Picasso} too busy to notice the sea churning{Irene Ryan :: Jacques Maritain :: Jane Bowles :: William Inge :: Betty Grable :: Lon Chaney, Jr. :: Bruce Lee :: Eddie Rickenbacker :: Fulgencio Batista :: Conrad Aiken :: Paul Williams :: J. R. R. Tolkien} the dark child in the undertow of albatross {Salvador Allende} Dreaming cream cheese or tomatoes {Gram Parsons :: Jim Croce} in the eggs {W. H. Auden :: Gene Krupa :: Walt Kelly :: Leo Strauss :: Pablo Casals} luminous vowels because we never went {Alan Watts} to Coney Island {Albert DeSalvo :: David Ben-Gurion} or did we {Bobby Darin}


I said {Meyer Lansky} under the bell’s roar {Bear Bryant :: Karen Carpenter} Oh Heaven either deaf or with these {Tennesee Williams :: Arthur Koestler :: Arthur Godfrey :: Gloria Swanson :: Dolores Del Rio} in the autumn minutia I brushed against eternity’s skirt {Buster Crabbe :: Muddy Waters :: John Fante :: Jack Dempsey :: R. Buckminister Fuller :: Ted Berrigan :: Frank Reynolds :: David Niven :: Ira Gershwin :: Benigno Aquino :: Henry “Scoop” Jackson :: Leopold III} like a performance artist of counterexamples {Maurice Bishop} under a sleight of hand fusion {Jessica Savitch :: Alfred Tarski} that came down sundown {Robert Aldrich :: Slim Pickens :: Mary Renault :: Joan Miro :: Dennis Wilson} on a landscape of blank paper.


Thin bird of clouds {Rudolf Nureyev} your arrogant sky is also enigmatic {Dizzy Gillespie :: Audrey Hepburn} It’s almost the kindest thing I can say {Thurgood Marshall :: Andre the Giant :: Arthur Ashe :: Ferruccio Lamborghini :: Harvey Kurtzman} Syd Barrett blew his mind on acid – you blew yours on Jeopardy {Lillian Gish :: Helen Hayes :: John Hersey :: Brandon Lee :: David Koresh :: William Stafford :: Mick Ronson :: Cesar Chavez :: Sun Ra :: Conway Twitty :: Milward L. Simpson :: Ray Sharkey} An American History {John Connally} of mondegreens {William Golding :: Pat Nixon} I placed the red apple on the sill for the leaper {Roy Campanella :: G. G. Allin :: Fred Gwynne :: Don Drysdale :: Will Rogers} and returned the leper’s fingers {Vince Foster :: Stewart Granger :: Raymond Burr :: Willie Mosconi :: James Doolittle :: Vincent Price :: Lipman Bers :: Federico Fellini :: River Phoenix :: H. R. Haldeman :: Bill Bixby :: Anthony Burgess} I no longer need {Pablo Escobar} to parse the thin bird {Lewis Thomas :: Frank Zappa} In the 20th century the ruins of a city {Frank Sturgis :: Don Ameche :: Max Zorn :: Myrna Loy :: Don DeFore} where I still hear {Sylvia Bataille} the seamstress {Norman Vincent Peale} the purr of her beautiful machine.


Entrails of wire & hot white phosphorus {Maurice Gibb} Girl with singular legs {Richard Crenna :: Bill Mauldin} drawing me in – I missed it then am missing it {Nell Carter :: Hugh Trevor-Roper :: Roy Ziegler :: Dolly the Sheep :: Johnny Paycheck} still waters where I float the jade’s green slag {Fred Rogers :: Joseph Coors, Sr. :: Rachel Corrie :: Daniel Patrick Moynihan :: Edwin Starr :: Little Eva :: Graham Jarvits :: J. Paul Getty, Jr. :: Robert Atkins :: Russell Long :: Noel Redding :: Robert Stack} still harbors of the cool November sun {June Carter Cash} because December branches outside the octagonal window {Donald Regan :: David Brinkley} turning the pages of a vanished voice {Gregory Peck :: Leon Uris :: Lester Maddox :: Strom Thurmond :: Bob Hope} Newspapers withered and yellowed against the chain link fence {Katherine Hepburn :: Buddy Hackett :: Herbie Mann :: Barry White :: Buddy Ebsen :: Qusay Hussein :: Uday Hussein :: Gregory Hines :: Idi Amin :: Charles Bronson :: Warren Zevon :: Leni Riefenstahl} Weekends lost to another wild unbecoming {Edward Teller} though only thoughts of {John Ritter :: Johnny Cash} keeping one’s nose to the grindstone {Gordon Jump :: George Plimpton :: Edward Said :: Robert Palmer :: Elia Kazan} I enter the house saying {Robert Kardashian :: Timothy Treadwell :: Amie Huguenard :: Joan B. Kroc :: Willie Shoemaker :: Fred Berry :: Madame Chiang Kai-Shek :: Frank McCloskey :: Art Carney :: Jonathan Brandis :: Sen. Paul Simon} nothing {Hope Lange} Tomorrow’s maybe Baby {Laci Peterson :: Alan Bates}
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2481 (view)
Posted: 12/19/2010 9:44:00 PM
( from DECADES)


Childhood heeby jeebies were minute and natural {Carl Switzer :: Cecil B. DeMille} In the vespertine stillness {Buddy Holly} we didn’t know-we sensed {Ritchie Valens :: The Big Bopper :: Wild Bill Donovan} the neighborhood’s charm and its valence {Lou Costello :: Duncan Hines :: Frank Lloyd Wright :: John Foster Dulles} Holidays were fresh and we liked the way our parents played together {George Reeves :: Ethel Barrymore :: Charles Starkweather :: Billie Holiday :: Edgar Guest :: Errol Flynn :: Max Baer, Sr.} The weather was pure and our lycanthropy was years away {Raymond Chandler :: Alfonso Reyes} It was the way the world was.


Bruised by displacement {Allen Dulles :: Boris Karloff} for instance it did not dawn {Gabby Hayes} no inkling of being unbound {Vito Genovese :: Karl Jaspers :: Joseph Yablonski} or of ever {John Kennedy Toole :: Dwight Eisenhower :: Conrad Hilton, Jr. :: Franz von Papen} leaving this earth {Leo Gorcey :: Mary Jo Kopechne :: Brian Jones :: Judy Garland :: Robert Taylor :: Theodor Adorno :: Bud Collyer} At one time {George Marshall :: Jay Sebring} they thought it too {Sharon Tate} Going forward was still the phase {Abigail Foster : Rocky Marciano : Ho Chi Minh} and would be {Everett Dirksen :: Sonja Henie :: Jack Kerouac :: Joseph Kennedy} for quite {Fred Hampton, Sr. :: Rafael Ramfis Trujillo} some time.


The future was a blast {Conrad Hilton :: Charles Mingus} was blasted into {Jack Soo} smithereens {Ted Cassidy :: Nelson Rockefeller :: Sid Vicious} Desert songs got played ad infinitum-Deep down in Florida we smoked {Josef Mengele :: Allen Tate :: Zulfikar Ali Bhutto :: Edgar Buchanan} the Yellow Rose of Texas {Lester Flatt :: Mary Pickford :: Jack Haley :: John Wayne :: Vernon Presley :: Michael Wilding :: Arthur Fiedler} got sick and didn’t know it {Herbert Marcuse :: Vivian Leigh}and wouldn’t have cared anyway {Lord Mountbatten} Radical chic got us laid {Claudia Jennings :: Elizabeth Bishop :: Mamie Eisenhower} hunting up AC and girls with Quaaludes {Al Capp :: Merle Oberon :: Zeppo Marx :: Darryl Zanuck} The times they were a-changin’ {Hafizullah Amin :: Richard Rodgers} but we didn’t know it.


Sudden took a long time {Emperor Hirohito :: Salvador Dali} to be sudden {Ted Bundy} Bustop mumblings of mathematics {John Cassavetes :: Wayne Hays :: Vincent Crane} That was morning {Konrad Lorenz :: Harry Andrews :: Robert Mapplethorpe :: John McCloy} Afternoons were beery -reserved for collecting vipers {Edward Abbey :: Stephen G. Betchel :: Abbie Hoffman :: Sugar Ray Robinson :: Lucille Ball :: Sergio Leone :: Christine Jorgenson} I think she was already {Daphne Du Maurier :: Gilda Radner :: Laurence Olivier :: John Cipollina :: Mel Blanc :: Claude Pepper :: Ayatollah Khomeini :: Victor French :: John Matuzsak :: Rebecca Schaeffer :: Andrei Gromyko} sleeping with the pallbearers {Jim Backus :: Donald Barthelme} Pixels appeared like little birds {William Shockley} the order of the day was salmagundi {Amanda Blake :: Huey Newton :: Irving Stone} black thorax and a puke {Joseph Alsop :: Irving Berlin :: Robert Penn Warren :: Ferdinand Marcos} of peridot – we were disappointed {Secretariat :: Graham Chapman} Something stirred in the forest {Bette Davis} It was not brightly feathered {Cornell Wilde :: Vladimir Horowitz :: Francis Bavier} Stoned but not immaculate {Andrei Sakharov :: Lee Van Cleef} Lithographs of orchids {Samuel Beckett} in Kunstformen der Natur {Nicolae Ceausescu :: Elena Ceausescu} Pages missing {Billy Martin}


In the forest {Iron Eyes Cody :: Joe D’Amato} in the sun {King Hussein I} behind your house {Iris Murdoch :: John Ehrlichman :: Gene Siskel} In our exaltations {Harry Blackmun :: Stanley Kubrick :: Dick Bogarde :: Victor Mature} I sometimes felt {Boxcar Willie :: Ellen Corby :: Anthony Newley :: Dusty Springfield :: Dylan Klebold :: Eric Harris :: Al Hirt} all of history {Dana Plato :: Oliver Reed :: Shel Silverstein :: Mel Torme :: DeForest Kelley :: Georgios Papadopoulos :: Forrest Mars :: Joe DiMaggio :: Mario Puzo :: Carolyn-Bessette Kennedy :: John Kennedy, Jr.} simply dissolve in the wind {Wilt Chamberlain :: Hoyt Axton} You and I {Allen Funt} are brain-damaged children {Catfish Hunter :: George C. Scott :: Judith Exner} In the half-life we wear the look of vagueness {Akio Morita :: Nathalie Sarraute :: Payne Stewart :: John L. Mills} Other beings discern the nature of our injuries {Walter Payton :: Paul Bowles :: Doug Sahm :: Ashley Montagu :: Charlie Byrd :: Madeline Kahn :: Rick Danko} But we cannot {Joseph Heller :: Grover Washington, Jr.} can only go on {Hank Snow} with our approximations {Curtis Mayfield :: Clayton Moore} as if {Elliot Richardson} our world will never end


Cut to a scene from sometime back {Jett Travolta :: Griffin Bell} In the beginning {Ricardo Montalban} we can call it that {W. D. Snodgrass :: Edmund D. Rothschild :: Holly Coors} Dusk skies at sea {John Updike :: Billy Powell :: Philip Jose Farmer :: Paul Harvey} Struggling against odds & demons {Marilyn Chambers :: J. G. Ballard :: Bea Arthur :: Marilyn French :: Jack Kemp :: Dom DeLuise :: George Tiller} however heroic {David Carradine :: Koko Taylor :: Ed McMahon :: Farrah Fawcett :: Michael Jackson :: Billy Mays :: Karl Malden :: Allen Klein :: Oscar Meyer, Jr. :: Robert Strange McNamara :: Walter Cronkite} horizons multiplied & sheaved across the curvatures of earth {Frank McCourt :: Corazon Aquino} You sense yourself {Naomi Sims} perhaps for the first time {Eunice Shriver :: Les Paul :: Robert Novak} in the middle thirds {Stanley H. Kaplan :: Ted Kennedy :: Dominick Dunne :: Jim Carroll } where you stand in an orchard of stigmata trees {Patrick Swayze :: Henry Gibson :: Jody Powell :: Mary Travers :: Irving Kristol :: Susan Atkins :: William Safire} tongued in flame {Al Martino :: Vic Mizzy} indentured {Soupy Sales} to a redemptive topos {Claude Levi-Strauss :: John Allen Muhammed :: Jean-Claude} A ghost-suit {Paula Hawkins :: Oral Roberts} hollowing into {Roy Disney} night {Arnold Stang :: Brittany Murphy :: Vic Chesnutt}
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2480 (view)
Posted: 12/19/2010 9:38:49 PM
( from DECADES)


In the beginning the world- breaking slowly {Gabriela Mistral} apart {Humphrey Bogart} this I {Arturo Toscanini :: Friedrich Paulus} now know {John von Neumann :: Richard E. Byrd :: Joseph McCarthy} but then {Eliot Ness :: Grace Coolidge :: Erle P. Halliburton :: Christian Dior :: Albert Anastasia} what stood out- apart and away - was the first and only –day of mayflies {Nikos Kazantzakis} fields of blue rolling grass and the slope of nouns {Louis Mayer} the vacant lot of the sky and {Diego Rivera} a child’s archaeology.


Artifacts of old tin {Jack Ruby} my terror no longer consisting of {L. L. Bean} animated bulldozers – cyclones of Ezekiel’s wheel {Robert Oppenheimer :: David Ferrie} I sought a solace from the constancy of transitions in the semi tropics of new radio thrills {Henry Luce :: Alice B. Toklas :: Edward Hopper} Will you place your own cruel streak
{ Claude Rains :: Langston Hughes :: Spencer Tracy :: Jayne Mansfield :: Alfred Krupp} alongside mine {Dorothy Parker :: Vivian Leigh :: John Coltrane :: Basil Rathbone :: Carl Sandburg :: Rene Magritte :: George Rockwell :: Brian Epstein} In those days {Carson McCullers} the green glow of a night light fell on toy soldiers {Woody Guthrie} and {Che Guevara :: Francis Cardinal Spellman} test patterns on the old Zenith {Bert Lahr } heralded the coming new day {Otis Redding}


Parachuting down {Carroll Quigley} I entered {Anais Nin} the city of sex {Gary Gilmore :: Freddie Prinze} A flower goes-here {Gummo Marx :: Joan Crawford :: Paul Desmond} Accomplishment didn’t seem shattered like a glass goblin {Werner von Braun :: Elvis Presley :: Groucho Marx :: Sebastian Cabot :: Zero Mostel} After all {Steve Biko} every generation {Marc Bolan} briefly lives {Bing Crosby :: Ronnie Van Zandt} in the sky {Guy Lombardo}


Old enough to be Janus-faced – lifting into bent {Ray Bolger} Presaging the long sleeping rain {Liberace} in the off roads {Andy Warhol :: David Susskind} where an owl watches over your body {James Coco :: Danny Kaye :: Woody Hayes} and ants enter blackness {Louis de Broglie :: Buddy Rich :: Erskine Caldwell :: Primo Levi :: Maxwell Taylor} You are in for the sick of it – long plumes alert you {Paul Butterfield :: William Casey :: Rita Hayworth :: Andres Segovia :: Will Sampson :: Fred Astaire :: Jackie Gleason :: John Hammond} A cold rose tattoo inside the eyelids {Rudolf Hess} the onset of apparent days {Lee Marvin} your sutured lips {John Huston :: Lorne Greene} and these {Peter Tosh :: Dan Rowan :: Bob Fosse } belong here {Mary Astor : Henry Ford II :: Clare Luce :: Jean Anouilh :: James Baldwin }


Red horses of the sun {Townes Van Zandt} I saw them with you {Jesse White} as we crossed the bay {Sheldon Leonard :: Paul Tsongas} and that was {James Dickey :: Colonel Tom Parker :: Jeane Dixon} before I even knew you {Deng Xiaoping : Notorious B. I. G. :: William de Kooning :: V. S. Pritchett :: Allen Ginsberg} were dreaming {Michael Schwarzchild :: Chaim Herzog :: Pat Paulson :: Mike Rokyo :: Jeff Buckley :: Betty Shabbaz :: Andrew Cunanan :: Brian Keith} of shore cities silvered – against the difficult winter – waiting for purple explosions {Jacques Cousteau :: Ben Hogan :: Robert Mitchum :: James Stewart :: William Burroughs :: Laura Nyro :: Princess Diana Spencer :: Dodi al-Fayed :: Mother Theresa :: Mobuto Sese Seko :: Burgess Meredith :: Red Skelton :: Roy Lichtenstein } of azalea we were like that {John Denver} and these people leaving {Harold Robbins} falling away {James Michener :: Anton LeVay} it took a long long {Kathy Acker :: Chris Farley :: Denise Levertov} time {Denver Pyle} to


live. It is what is not here –as Rilke omits Apollo’s head {Yvonne De Carlo} The vulture’s beauty lies in the high distance of its gyre {Robert Anton Wilson} I confess hesitance {Alice Coltrane :: Art Buchwald} at the coded bridge {E. Howard Hunt :: Molly Ivins :: Anna Nicole Smith} desire coral {Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. :: Thomas Eagleton :: Jean Baudrillard :: Ernest Gallo :: Don Ho} the husk of voice an eager light her madness when {Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. :: Boris Yeltsin :: Tom Poston :: Yahweh ben Yahweh :: Jerry Falwell :: Charles Nelson Reilly :: William Meredith :: Beverly Sills} her thighs break your neck {Boots Randolph :: Lady Bird Johnson :: Tammy Faye Bakker :: Liz Claiborne :: Tom Snyder :: Ingmar Bergman :: Merv Griffin :: Michael Deaver :: Leona Helmsly :: Aaron Russo :: Richard Jewell :: Luciano Pavarotti :: Jane Wyman} if not then a language replacing blood replacing body - communal orchard against displacement {Alice Ghostley} against loss {Marcel Marceau} you come into {Joey Bishop :: Porter Wagoner} the world only an hour {Norman Mailer :: Barbara McNair :: Ian Smith} a day of mayflies {Robert Vesco :: Robert Goulet :: Henry Hyde :: Evel Knievel :: Ike Turner } the subject {Dan Fogelberg} like all of them {Benazir Bhutto} disappears.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 3 (view)
Aliens and the Homeless
Posted: 12/16/2010 10:07:55 PM
YEAH! YEAH! Both of you are so right. But you don’t go far enough. What about all those poor people. We need to get a real progressive tax plan for this country. I’m thinking it should be only 3 tax brackets. Like this:

1. Less than $20,000…Taxed at 100% rate. That’s right- bring back slavery. After all that and killing Injuns was what made this country great in the first place.

2. $20,000-$250,000…75% Tax rate…that’ll teach em to be grateful

3. Over $250,000…No taxes at all.

Now that’s a great plan. And one other thing-I’m sick of all these handicapped people with their special considerations. I mean some people will do anything to get out of the army or to get some attention. It’s all about them. Every time I pull up to the Circle K to get my Red Bulls and lottery tickets all the good parking places are taken…Geeesh.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 13 (view)
Then a thin layer of time will be exact / no moon
Posted: 12/15/2010 1:54:49 PM
NV- I think Leslie Scalapino must have left her slippers for you

And Cathy Acker has surely bequeathed to you her prom dress...the one she stole from Doug Rice
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2475 (view)
Posted: 12/15/2010 10:16:40 AM

If Sarah Palin gave birth to a robot baby, one night in a manager, below an oracle of scattered stars, if, in fact Sarah Palin, one bright night, hurled her soaring robot baby,
clean across the Pacific, through the stratospheric noctilucence , of a 2012 summer,
with its tiny metallic fists of fury, at the ready, its engaging tiny fists at the ready,
on a mission from God, to pummel the living bejesus out of Kim Jong Il, one way or another, the critics’ tongues would cease their wagging, amidst the winter grace.
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2472 (view)
Posted: 12/14/2010 10:07:32 PM

Direct she comes from The Secret Hair Lounge
Gently saying gentle I think she is always
I’m pretty sure you can tell
In the way her fingers float dolphins
In incompressible air

Curved across

Cauliflower heads of hydrangea blue
Into red mostly far
Some say Lorca near the stars
Begging a Spanish Christ for his soul

One of old
A ripened pomegranate
Spilled its seeds
In laments of five o’clock afternoons
Little leaf personal sand
Qualia of the tortured hummingbird

Write thread
To say by way of living to have been a story
Of human forms this is the way

She comes emerges from
The Lounge of Secret Hair
Always gently saying gentle to

Whoever disputes the existential hue- disputes the march of philosophical zombies

Going lonely to and lonely from
When the dogs go missing
(We pass to[o])
Legends describe us a heaven
Winged monkeys in suits of Sturm und Drang
And the body forged
Of feathered songs in the sea-coupled sky
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2463 (view)
Posted: 10/30/2010 12:04:55 PM

Remnants of the previous night’s half-moon like a ghostly dime inserted in the sky’s blue cardboard. I appeal to a starkness rendered pure and clean to the touch. In the dry rain of leaves the old rubs against the new. The planet’s tumbling dice have created a yearning for testing the accuracy of blonde. The juxtaposition of parchments and mail order psychologies on a morning like this, small and pure, would allow me even to reclaim the lone tree of the pasture. The one perpetually enclosed in rising mist, which is the only one.

The sun has its red exile where it walks an eightfold path
Accepting the tentative ribbons of its influence

I’ve spent a lifetime accepting
Its two places in our lives

And failing

Until realizing

An only choice

And still I long
To something
Side by side
Where the green

Shadows of a river
Collect the sensory aggregate

Of a suggested world
Leaning into

A potency

Of the landscape’s warmth
Blood full against the dust

And the half-moon


In its dissolution
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2462 (view)

Posted: 10/30/2010 10:32:02 AM
deleted to edit
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2458 (view)
Posted: 10/3/2010 8:54:34 PM

Soldiers with heavy metal plates in their heads and then the heaving of metal he was once in love with a girl the girl back home returning she had fuchsia hair and tongue studs he liked to imagine a feeling of her like little metal birds

The road trips were long proper documentation required more than ever a tabula rasa that was us in our travels was Dante coming back turning to your CIA man saying it was mighty stinky down there

Just because your family of invalids she said twitter me hard like a priest boning the altars not unusual you have your gravy love and we have our blind dates with the circus girls taking in another Keynesian seminar and us going all the way loving the multiple la-la some say forever

Everything getting close to kaboom your monkey in parenthesis and a flute song the sadness was worth a lot worth more and the hurting like the unfinished business of gravity

A man and a woman were dreaming like soft kittens realizing the absolute whiteness of paradise and both thinking into the other I got this but there it goes and I can’t tell it and crying

Some others say breaking open clouds gathering up the torrential sky here is a violent red disk and here is the afterthought of necromancy or a halo of honeybees speaking at once of ethics in the rose garden so wilted my hands flying through the North Atlantic Drift

Soldiers do you remember the deepness of your blue gulf something better than morning light with your leaving girl and yourself lost to the forests of childhood back here in the no more houses of Mardi Gras like old summers floating away from you are dying to come home
 black mary
Joined: 3/15/2009
Msg: 2457 (view)
Posted: 10/3/2010 8:53:30 PM
Thanks to everybody for stopping by, thanks for the birthday greeting Brizo and thanks to Jason, 60-70, revoskeepnus for the poems.

Jason Nigrelli-I liked the references in your poem, the biblical dudes & Rilke (never really could get into Castaneda though). I really liked the ending- very poignant.

60-70- A bit of nostalgia or a memory? Or something current? Perhaps a juxtaposition.

Revoskeepnus- I really like the poems, especially the longer one, well-written, nice flow.

Trulio- I enjoyed your commentaries and the poem with its great images and language
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