A WORD

Tags

meaning, metafiction, Metaphor, metapoetic, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, writing

A WORD

this poem
is not a poem
even though
it says it is
you
are the poem
even though
you say
you are not

even though
you are an am
we all are

in a box
poem in a box
hardly a
word that
rhymes

if I say so myself

if I say so all the time

AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT

Tags

poem, poetry, power, wordplay, writing

AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT

I sit
under crescent Moon
having lost
the words
to a
thousand poems

something snipped
them out of my
head

perhaps same blade
that sliced
the Moon
like a mango

or like a ladle-full
of Moon liquid
frozen in time
flowing
slower than
glass

than
Arctic glacier

and then I wondered
what, our powers conjoined,
what Moon and I might conjure
make
appear
disappear

and so together we resolved
I should say her secret, first name
a trillion times

and watch the
life of our solar system, our galaxy
speeded up infinitely

easy
to imagine this
when both
thinking and
travelling
at the speed of light

RIDER (ON AND OFF THE STORM)

Tags

identity, metapoetic, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, wordplay, writing

RIDER (ON AND
OFF THE STORM)
“Like a dog without a bone”
The Doors

I wrote
right through
the night

and deep
into the morning

rode my Muse
hard (when
I could
get hard)

for a few unfinished
scraps of poetry
and half
a page of prose

like
getting blood
from a stone
and diamonds,
engine oil
and tooth paste

if my pen
had feelings
it would
feel
so crippled sore.

every poem
a disappointment
not one
ever would
make the grade

were it
not for
the grace of
irony

me and
my Muse
both fictions

as you
are
in this place

with
or without
your bone

AND YET

Tags

death, Humanity, meaning, philosophical, poem, poetry, time, Universe

AND YET

it’s a sleep
I won’t wake up from

and yet I do
I always do

since the beginning
of the Universe
since
before

the beginning
(time and
consciousness
so
connected
so at odds)

I have never
overslept

never known anything other
than the absurdity of now

the chances of
which

so absolutely ridiculous

billions to
one against

I think I’ll just sleep on it;
waking up is death

WHAT DISSOLUTION TO FEAR

Tags

absurdism, Consciousness, existential, Humanity, identity, meaning, Metaphysical, philosophical, physics, poem, poetry, wordpla

WHAT DISSOLUTION TO FEAR?

School’s shut
leaving me
in a philosophical vacuum

a nebula of molecules separated
by oceans of emptiness

like they pumped all
the oxygen out, all
the hydrogen, nitrogen,
methane, chlorine, and
every inert gas

and so I tell myself
my name is not Gogo
I am
more than
pure space, simple
intellectual abstraction

my molecules, in theory,
according to the theoretical model,
smeared
all over the place

by the weakest of
forces
held together

free to
skip class, play
truant

wander
all over the place

leaving me nothing
one of
the
99%

who look up
to the rest

covet such lives
of substance and stability

and yet
everything to
fight for

from
humanity
detached

and same it is, but different, with
these words on the page
(once — no, not really — words
in my mouth)

nothing solid there — all relation and
difference, symbol and
myth making

those old stories recycled
you’ve heard them before, wired
into your brain

layer upon layer
perhaps this is how air
how
breath contrives meaning

like
folded origami (suddenly shape
and dimension)
like
weapon of hierarchy in
folded samurai
steel

and I have, if you would bear with me, tried
folding
this page, these words, that

they might
fill my space, create
fiction of being

that you and I
could buy into

paradoxically, our life-stuff to clear
distinct to us
when most merged
most near

and with this
softest assurance

what
dissolution to fear?

NEXT

Tags

Consciousness, erotic, female, Metaphysical, metapoetic, poem, poetry, postmodern, Sexual, Sexual innuendo, woman, writing

NEXT

I don’t see my way clear
to finishing this poem

what you threaten
with all your
interference and
distraction

is that
the split between
the self that writes and
self that is
written

will become a rift, a cavern
unbridgeable

and what is this

you tell me this is, funny I should mention it,
your suspension bridge that

we get to cross

a magical world where
poetry can be shelved, put to the side for a moment

and I get to eat you
like a golden peach

juicy enough
to feed into my

next
next
next
next
poem

BARRON

Tags

Bishop Robert Barron, Catholic, Heaven, Multiverse, poem, poetry, spiritual, Universe, writing

BARRON

a Catholic scholastic on YouTube
spouting about District 9, The Matrix
and Bob Dylan

did not realize the Universe had
so many channels

so many the music
of the spheres gets (peaks
and troughs) flattened
out to a dull drone

on Netflix the Nazis
are still in New York,
Japanese in
San Francisco

and here I sit
in a reality that could not
be less porous, more alternate

playing wth words trying to
undo the cosmos linguistically
figure out its sublimely secret scrabble

so far
my score so low
(high scores only for
sounds that resonate
between every
conceivable dimension)?

at least that scholastic
does a convincing
glimpse
of Heaven

TWINS

Tags

Britain, British, Colonialism, GERMAN, History, Imperialism, John Donne, poem, poetry, WW1

TWINS

wanted to cite John Donne
on the matter of circumference

poet of the sharp and
acute angle, relationship
equilateral

how was it possible that
he could not have foreseen
a world painted pink
by his tiny Kingdom?

so green those fields the bards, the soldier
poets would have it

and yet the envy of
history

far
greater green

my grandfather in sniper sights
but (thank God) for just
too brief
a moment

those cunning, miss-
nothing eyes
that brain
full to the brim with Hegel, Heine,
Goethe and Nietzsche

we
so equal in this
incredible as it might seem

me and my nemesis
cut from same cloth, almost
(yes, indeed Dr Donne)
perfect
killer twins

BETTER PLACE

Tags

Beauty, Ending, erotic, innuendo, Life, loss, love, Metaphysical, mythology, Ocean, poem, poetry, sea, Sexual innuendo, sexual symbolism, spiritual, transformation, Water, Water power astrological, woman, wordplay

BETTER PLACE
(for Francesca)

the Saint you were named after
loved little animals

they would lead him
to their little homes
invite him
to explore
their tiny burrows

it was Eden in my bedroom
and like our beautiful first parents
we failed to realize it

both of us born under that
divided, contrary, most transcendent
sign of the fish

it was
always like
when we got naked

deep ocean water filled the room
which, as we no longer
breathed air, only breathed
and devoured each other,
was no bother

we were swimming toward a mirage
swimming together towards
promise of something perfect
something infinitely better

when our vessel foundered
found itself
between Scylla and
Charybdis

between a
rock and
a hard place

and we
let the self-
contained fantasy slip away

lost our
special sea identities

left that deep
deep
special, sensual garden

for some supposed, half-
promised, presumed better place

AGAIN

Tags

Consciousness, poem, poetry, time, Universe

AGAIN

woke
refused to believe
I had been asleep
for a billion years

woke
saw the goddess
fell
in love

was refused

begged
to sleep for
a billion years again