August poem

  

     Serō^               {fr Days of Mercury}

                               

Wind tide
scarred sometimes
By dust spikes
blinding
pulverized
trajectories exhaled
in coarse flight bolted
bloodier feral heart
iridescent
dodgy
tracks
soars
scape unlocks
as waters trisect
frieze northward
to an invisible gorge
balancé
shimmer
trace^untouched
geo quantum
finally along the promontory

Mercury
at vanishing point
embark
It is all over for now
Iron eyes obliterating
light years
cataloguing the isles of the dead
Hermes  ignites
winged temples to
eclipse the
eternal outlier
blood Venus
unguarded in the
ice basilica
its innards collapsed into
the fevered expanse
a tether
a theory
a twitch
that recalls
thought
but Mercury still dreams
With the
disappeared
Liberated
Reconvened in mighty silence
It is all water music
heard inside
energy concussed
hovers at azimuth
sometimes a dusk reveals
that all his missions had
been vaporized as
Mercury enters the cobalt fury of Olympus

 

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fr Right before I met Vincent

endlessly, from last night

the pulse
blue echo

the concussive
murmurings

earlier
spying my belly button
in a drawer
with shredded  biker socks
at 7:40 molting

rusty whispers
from vodka-quaalude
on geometric bodyink

out of mind so
lusting off
to eternity
the trail of clothes
ending in a
glitteringly butch
shadows
dreamt of once before

now hover in
diamond movement of
à l’après-midi d’un faune
Angling over a
busted wall
-when did you
share me
with candy-
from the other club last night
it is time to go out to dance, no?
is it still 3:20
1972 drenched
In sex forgotten in a flash with  all the
beautiful ones inhabiting the
GalleriaAtlantis
busted open in the rumbling
strata of
anonymous  and so liberated from any former crime
but the faith of knowing we
we are giving our bodies to each
other, unlost
A sane human havoc
sounds of falling onyx
and crystals
dripping
on marble
crack below on
Leaves
scrapping branches
mercury running through
Fingers onto
the temples
we hear
sonic psalms
La la la Sacre du Printemps
to escape the sound
Of the blood pulsing together

inside a
Coldest room
waiting for scarred
voices down here, below
Flamingo tangerine fucshia
Dahlia darling ascending
soul & sugar
Paul&Assotto
Larry&Paul
Keith&Timmy&

Ted&Pearl&

SarahVaughan&Joey&Christopher
Georgio&Alberto&JohnAnthony&Michael&Marcel&Menage&PeterMiguelJimmy

Andywasthereoncewethink
et. fuckin’ al. baby
nobody walked away
empty hearted
the corners
of the rooms folded up
not inside shadow
on bluer shadow
pulsing resonance
concussive dissonance
as the body starburst
endlessly through that smashed atom
still dancing with Shiva we dance for you&we dance for with you perpetuo molto

on ink-night beholden to our rainbow warriors
so mighty real

poetries

 

From The Music Rooms

prelude in transit

~wordless darkness that underlies all verbal truth~Perhaps something only music could suggest|Timebends Arthur Miller

Steel shadows
dragged out of the room
Sutured behind a wing
vanished into sky
Unwritten, unspoken
mourned to infinity
swallowing illusion,

escape through the hands
retold through time
vanquished eye
Secreted away
witnessed from afar

saved in the notes

banished from consciousness
tho remembered
in that
precision of sacred dance
conjured from the pages
Of a burned book

a prelude in transit
Riveted to this track
pulverized
then transported this night
When it is played again
for the first time

Delphinium a gay garden May 2000 (revisited)

Delphinium ~ a gay garden, revisited
May 2000

‘Till the shadows
on his past
In a separate garden.

Except that we were
laughing
they too
were full silhouettes

in bloom

& not to bother

to intrude on mindless
heads thrown back for
That late brunch
sun mocking itself
meanwhile
a frond noir
Tricking the eye into
Thinking that it is

reseeing a day of youth
the shade of shadows
in shadows
we don’t really remember
even 20 years ago before

the last fall
When everyone was
subsumed
vortex
justanothermonster
million-rooted blood hydra
just another monster
to be melted

who were we but
all of us

to be still here

on this day buried
behind black purple
Siberian irises
splashed with cheap mimosas
or aubergine

sweated morning glories
all flora

staying out for a long
nevermore luxuriant

Lurching
fox gloves
slap each

other with tired lilies
forgetting a century
of black Pagliaci tears)

Spilled over lips
With winds swirls
making us blink vs
red or violet afterburns
to champagne
pink fade
blades
running
once,
leaves of grass
swat and sway
all afternoon
Trying to dance against
the lazy chorus of chive hammers
the entrada of
blurviolet organza
brushing by
Spiked feathers
Tripped over bowl of clover
Whispered over
villainous amaryllis

accidental
camaraderie
loitering
With such beautiful intent

Snapdragons in
snarky venereal poses
Under arc of skid row
rails repopulated with lilac clematis
(ear-ringed, dreadlocked)
And Camille

ignores

enough to
Descend.
On neon Medusa

granite dragon
ignored
unbloomed with doubt
certain of the galaxy
chrysanthemum
if it survives
Root map of the ants
cotillion next door to
The red speck-flies
Amok on mauve silk belles
willow

spiraled in
gnarled beauty
because of the early heat
and forget-me-nots
lost on other endless afternoons
the amber showdown
vaporized our outfits
reassemble from last
night
unforced bloomed
in the twilight

of blue roses
we’ve never

knew the worse

The lovers gone
Friends silenced
out of the
heroic sea
of unwanted souls
What we
were once
& need to be again
Will always be

kept like the
Ghosts of the gardens at Versailles.
Those forgotten blooms
still lost in someone else’s time

no we did not
remember promises not to
fall in love
Have sex
Not to cheat on our lovers
Or press leaves between
The pages of the pact that
We are finally
loving witness for each other
that is our sanctified root
the perpetual motion

on this last day

So the light changed
there is laughter
same larkspur
flying out of Troy
To drown out
cry for the next rain
soaring in this
dank metropolis
so supple
so fetid sometimes
she soars
in the field of
Delphinium

So instead do not
turn our back
On the blinded warriors
going back in
to say goodbye
unforeshadowed

Queens of the Garden

(For Jack & those beautiful men gathered

May 2000)

 

 

annual revisit & some replanting to Delphinium, A Gay Garden

from Gyroscopes

From Gyroscopes  (appendix)

The NYTimes 4.25.2016 reports that

……………..half of which includes “candidate phyla radiation” that are still waiting to be discovered. Humans are in the bottom branch of eukaryotes…

 

 

 

Overundersidewaysdown

Eukaryotes the gods

Through smashing logic

mirrors to obliterata

I reckon for the bottom of the ocean

Not a glimpse or                                        word will be revealed l

vaporized on our way

So the creatures stay undernorth or

don’t acknowledge heavenward

fly unsidedownoverandover

to reckon the bottom of

The oceanic

There is a clue that

A million blood tongue hydra sleeps

For now gurgles

In a cell

& in a parallel spiral

Throwing the dice into to a new black hole

chains of lifeforms, devolved sobriquets

unvoided              reheard                            randomly swallowed

fucking     unvoidedly

ibidibidibid- randomly time reveals the next

occurrence of

confirmed reality when  Igor unleashes Le Sacre

Cocteau smokes Beauty and the Beast

Isadora materializes through the trees of Moscow

Renaldo escapes in the ocean to write in water for all eternity

in beautiful unknown realness

The infinite if                when moments are not

so  we start to create

Poetries

Tags

poetics

Vernissage fr Right Before I Met Vincent
The crumbs & vapor
distinct enough not to
Even need to know
If we were going
Uptown, downtown
or crosstown
Claude and me
stumbled out of the
Wander In’ breathing heavy
Fire, to clear the way
not knowing
Even when or why it that we
headed out
last night?
A willful blur
Some micro-pill mixed
Or so Montreaux at lunch
Vodka for dinner
A floor show at the Met
With Aida Mann
Storming down the aisle
proclaiming in disgust
“That hideous soprano stole my act!”
(We escaped but not before
pouring Aida in a cab)
“take me to the Silhouette
I go on in five minutes and pick me up
In a half hour and bring me back here for
The last act.”
We were dodgy in a separate hitch
To Larry’s opening
Which the artist
usually doesn’t attend until
Everyone but possible
Fuck buddies leave
so we swung
By his flat to see
And magically
Of course
Everyone was there instead
Apparently we were the last to arrive before
Two men in kilts stood guard
Drinks were shoved
In our hands
And Claude collapsed
In a sullen heap
as everyone fell
Silent
Violin and piano music
Engulfed the room
With hostile phrases
razor sharp
note bends
furious contrapuntal
Interlocks that
faded to
echoes of blue
whisper
“I heard that once before
In Prague, after
The war.”
Vincent said
And without a word
We left on the
Steal shadows
dragged out of the room
Unwritten, unspoken
swallowing escape
vanquished eye
To truths
another day
Remembering to forget
scarred waltz time
released in the pages
Of a lost book
in transit
Riveted to the track
Crushed repeatedly
then entering a new night
When it is played again
silent nocturne

Poetries

– Andrea Clearfield’s Salon botanicals – 5.24.2016LJW-

 

From The Music Rooms

prelude in transit

          ~wordless darkness that underlies all verbal truth~Perhaps                                    something only music could suggest|Timebends Arthur Miller 
Steel shadows
dragged out of the room
Sutured behind a wing
vanished into sky
Unwritten, unspoken
mourned to infinity
swallowing illusion, escape
through the hands
retold through time
vanquished eye
Secreted away
witness
swallowed day
absent of reason
of any
Remembering
but that
progression of scarred waltz time
conjured from the pages
Of a burned book
prelude in transit
Riveted to the track
pulverized repeatedly
then entering a new night
When it is played again
for the first time