Alternatetakes2

~ arts journal~ Lewis J Whittington

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Tag Archives: poetics

Poetries

01 Friday May 2015

Posted by alternatetakes2 in Uncategorized

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Tags

flora&fauna, fouffy poems, jan carroll, poetics

may3flore 018
Delphinium ~ a gay garden, revisited
May 2000

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

Except that we were
laughing
they cared less
full silhouettes

silent blooms

or mindless
heads thrown back for
That last meal


the razed sun mocking itself
on a wayward frond
Tricking the eye into
Thinking that it is

reseeing a day of youth
the shade of shadows
in shadows

the shrill darkness

of the last fall
When everyone was
subsumed

just another monster of

the million-rooted blood hydra

to be melted

who were we then

to be still here

on this day hidden
behind black purple
Siberian irises
splashed with vodka
sweet sweated morning glories
all flora

staying out for a long
nevermore

nevermore
fox gloves
slap each other with lurid lilies
forgetting the cauldron
of dried tears

Noontide

smiles of a spring day

more laughter

warm intimacies

winds swirls
making us blink in
red or violet afterburns
of more champagne

pink fade to the

chorus of dahlia

that swat & sway
all afternoon
dance against
the hushed leaves of grass
the entre-acte of blur organza
brushing by
Spiked feathers
Tripped over bowl of clover
Whispered over
villainous amaryllis

we, us, our

Sacre du Printemps dancing
With such beautiful intent

Snapdragons in
feral poses
Under arc of de triompherow of
lilac clematis
(ear-ringed, dreadlocked)
And the ladies of the Camellias lingerenough to
Descend.
On neon Medusa granite dragon
finally blinded

the orchidvine spiraling on
zinia in gnarled beauty
because of
and forgetmenots
lost on other endless fetid afternoons
but certain of the geogalaxy
but wary of the ants
cotillion or
The red speck-disco flies
Amok on mauve silkbelles

By dusk

there is no more music
The lovers gone
out of the
heroic sea
of unwanted souls
What we
were once
& need to be again
Will always be

on this vanquished day

remembrances of
Ghosts of the gardens at Versailles.
vaporized
through endless
nights
unforced bloomed
in this twilight of roses
still lost in someone else’s time

no we did not
remember promises not to
fall in love
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 in eternal bloom on this final day

So the light changed
there is laughter
as the silver lark
flies out of Troy
sings to drown out
cry for the next rain
soaring in this
the afterburn of this metropolis

so blinding
she soars
in to the fields of
Delphinium
as the shadows of the past warriors
shield all the queens of the garden

(For Jack & all those beautiful men gathered that )

Jazzlife

04 Saturday Apr 2015

Posted by alternatetakes2 in Uncategorized

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Tags

fouffy poems, poetics

Chet Plays the Mercury L (alternatetake) fr~ Right before I met Vincent

Before the rain
melted
Whisper ballade
The private pictures
in sordid songs
About stupid hearts and
Busted gigs
Trashed in
drop dead lipsticks
Chipped onyx cuff links
Silverdeco cigarette cases
left on by
Discarded lovers
Thrown through cobalt smoke
Of scared promises
Playing the
corruptible psalm in a
winding dreams
or Driving a pink panel
55-crome
Chevy convertible
your luscious hair
Playing
moontide cello on
His lap

you make me sing
‘Where or When.’
kick your shoes off
feeling your arch
to my toes

baby, I pissed you off
you know why

I can’t know why

you can chase me down
To the wrong door
in that empty hall

playing
that lullaby
that damned

a damned melody
of sexless lust
shadows of shadows in shadow
lets the mirror open
all he sees is the   the torn collar
Clinging to his wet hair.
forces silently
Away to complete
That unseen picture
Of lacquered eyes
On the wounded brow
Crouched over
whiskey ash notes in tracks
spilled all over the bed
Cradling his trumpet

Poetries

05 Thursday Feb 2015

Posted by alternatetakes2 in LJW poetry

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Tags

poetics

cropped-imag0010.jpg

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

All poems by Lewis Whittington unless otherwise noted

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