here is a minimalist page with something between the spaces.
once a pawn
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Monthly Archives: October 2014
silence in two whiles
1
in a soundproofed room
you are still bombarded with signal
and depending on your instrument of translation
may receive modulated radiation from the electromagnetic spectrum
the least exhalation of breath and the most harrowing shriek and all between flow through you constantly though encrypted
but shut off the phone and be alone again
with your own pulsed heart and
your own rhythmed breath
heart’s lobed beat
lungs’ swelled fill
beat and fill
quiet
2
the main sound on the predawn desert mountain trail
is the scrape of your soles on scree cinders
but the near silence allows calibrated gain
and then are heard the thwips
and rustle
and padpadpad
of fauna and flora
stop on a rock and blink away the runoff from your brows
turn away from the view of the parking lot and look at the panorama you made
with nothing but a footborne change of elevation
and you’ve earned a silence of approbation
and when you break it with a twist
of your waterholder’s top
and then with the buhbloop of good and cold
over your tongue and down your throat
it’s hard not to “aaaaah!” with satisfied volume
and then enjoy a low-hummed resilencing
bent a little by the miraculous, bone-conducted sound
of your blinking eyelids
NOTE: My illustration for this poem is the first crack at Scratchboard I’ve had in thirty years or so. Consequently, the inherent strength-through-contrast of the medium is offset by the clumsiness of the practitioner. The next ones will be better.
the day the dog stood still
Today one thing led to another. I needed bloodwork done and so Denise and I ended up at the lab just off Highway 89A. That was well on the way to Jerome, so I suggested we have breakfast at the Mile High Grille. Jerome was well on the way to Prescott, so we went to Trader Joe’s and The Art Store. On the way back we approached a fork in the road that led either home or to the animal shelter. We went to the animal shelter and what we thought would be the second in a series of many window-shopping excursions that would eventually land us a dog. Little did we know that Dixon, billed as an Australian Shepherd, would be the one dog in a row of rowdies and manic leapers that would maintain aplomb and interest in both of us. Now he is home with us and cats Misty and Cookie, in the first day of “pre-adoption.” Here he is, in protective custody.
We let him roam free for a while, but our cats clambered up a tall bookcase and wouldn’t come down. When we put him in the microkennel, Misty came down, and trash-talked through the cage bars, proving protective custody was a good idea.
Dixon is not the ideal dog. He is slobbery with water and smells too much like dog. But he has a good big heart, he’s happy to know at least two of us, and so far he’s held it until taken outside. I hope the coming days lead to peaceful interspecies coexistence.
Meet Lena Furbena
Yesterday I was behind the desk at the Independent Living Retirement Community where I work, and Laura, the Pet Visit lady, offered me any of the three photos of the pet, one Lena Furbena, she’d brought to visit. I selected one and asked permission to use it as a photo source for an illustrated poem. Laura kindly granted permission, and here we are.
Lena has her own Facebook page. Here is a link: https://www.facebook.com/lena.furbena?fref=ts She claims study at Yavapai College and work at Bossa Rosa. Apparently she enjoys moonlit walks and dirt baths.
I don’t know her well, but from the vibe I got from my brief visit with her, this emerged:
Love-Kitties often loll & paw & goof
Lick sharpened claws & blink & blink at you
Enjoying your discomfiture, they purr
Enjoined, they do a thing that lacks a verb
Now Cat & Human share a warmth serene
No discord interferes with what they glean
An afternoon in Harmony’s corona
A Love-Cat LIVES in Northern Arizona
Half a Secret/Reveiled
Half a Secret
If there were such a thing as half a secret
There would be such a thing as half aloof
So goes the half aloft and closet peeklet
Entangled in the clothing of the proof
Less entropy prevents a leaky roof
Ferality unmeeks the meekest meek pet
Reveiled
In veils we find
The mystery
Sought by the blind
Encounter. We
Leave type and kind
For History.
athleqpurchku
purchase of spheroid-
al athletic equipment–
such optimism!
Compare/Contrast/Concoct
Dispatch from “out of town.”
The lady in upper left says “I am.” To her left, the girl says “I was.” To her left, half a gargoyle says “I will be” and the other half says “I am.” To his left is some eldritch youngster saying, “Hey, good lookin’/Whacha got cookin’/Howzabout cookin’ sompin’ up like Me?” Capitalization of Me is significant.
“Compare and contrast” is a common strategy for writing an essay–at least it was when I was growing up. I liked the idea of adding “Concoct” because that’s a relatively new strategy, now being employed for the genetic modification of grain. Perhaps future generations of humans will be genetically modified, or computer-hybrided, or both. Time and toil will tell. I suspect in the near future there will be a “brain race” of hegemony-viers. I hope Goodness and Mercy are uploaded if so.
Here are the words to the triple acrostic:
Crepe and papier-mâché may form a scene bucolic
Offspring of an errant tom may come out calico
Many cosplayed Nerdfolk will be at the ComiCon
Patent leather wingtips were the rage in days of frolic
Aberration’s operators fool [or fuel] with Conoco
Remnants of an era past are waxing apostolic
Enter yelping–exit slurping on a root beer float
Ends will ofttimes turn upon the turning of a coat
A “Turncoat” is a traitor. There is no such word as “abberation” unless considered as an aberrant form of “aberration.” We are riverlike to the extent that we are never the same, even midsyllable.
murk in progress
A long time ago, Gahan Wilson drew a cartoon of two Asian monks or lamas hovering over a cauldron of stew. One has just tasted with a ladle. He says, “Enough yin. More yang.”
Similarly, the idle sketcher will start with a doodle and then the two sides of the brain wrestle over it. “Enough intuition. More logic.” Suddenly it is no longer a doodle but a start on something more. All too often for the impatient or attention-deficited, it doesn’t amount to anything.
I have stacks and stacks of such, and much more has been discarded. This one is on the bubble:
Next post will either have a completed version of this, or something completely different, or both. Depends on whether I run out of yang. [yinnish grin]
a guardian angel tenders her notice
a piece of god was in one of the lounges in heaven, playing a video game, thumbs crazy on the controller, tongue out and being bit. the aspect He chose was the classic sistine chapel adam-sparking jehovah, robed, long hair and beard, but looking oddly like george clooney.
maria alicia, guardian angel of a teen ne’er-do-well, entered the lounge and took a seat next to Him on the couch. she grabbed a controller and joined in the game.
and God said, “you’ve come to quit, alice?”
“yes.”
“you think you’re doing more harm than good? you’ve–” both players shifted their bodies to the right in sympathy with the action on the screen. “you’ve concluded that what you are doing when you alter physics to save your boy’s life is . . . enabling behavior?”
“yes. he’s caught on that he’s being helped. it’s just making him feel more invulnerable.”
“alice, i’ll accept your notice–” BOOM! went the screen. sad music marked the loss of another “jehovah” life. sixteen remained. “–but i’d rather give you a promotion instead.”
“promotion? to what?”
“Still, Small Voice. you get to stop saving and start nagging.”
alice’s countenance brightened and her halo pulsed in a divine ripple. “sold!”
the angel and the aspect continued the video game, both happier.
Unforeseen Difficulty (an Indictment)
Apologies to Brad Pitt for exploiting his name and face, albeit in a good cause.
Synopsized facts about “Who Killed the Electric Car?” may be found on Wikipedia, here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Who_Killed_the_Electric_Car%3F . It may seem that by now, eight years later, the point is moot, but we’re pumping more than ever out of the ground and into the sky.
“Jean-Luc” is a reference to the character Patrick Stewart played in the STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION omnibus. He was a starship captain who certified his orders with “make it so.”
Unforeseen Difficulty
Unto us an Engine framed, full bore & rectified
Now release we Inner Cowgrrr–yippy ki yi yi
Four-speed shift or automatic–really, what’s the diff
Oil & gasoline intoxicate–just take a whiff
Rolling on a highway beats a loll on the lanai
Eminent domain emissions make it so Jean-Luc
Sifting through us like a line of poorly-lit haiku
Even-handed citizens may want to take a Poll
Eco-minders balk if Greenpeace comes for their Renault
Never mind–y’all drive into the Sunset–say goodby
One with Clay, Image and Text 