gently dream’d
gossamer slipt on her sweet lyrish hips & it set a silver mood
enter distractions & traffic infractions on 8 trucks & also a scooter
next is their exodus & Ah alone at last–alas romance seems to elude
tendered apologies render’d her all at ease now for the crackers & Gouda
less from the strategists more from the magic-kiss’d wishing to circumvent DOOOOOOM
you on the pedestals–we bid you cease menace to us so please/kindly get clue’d
Snow is falling here in Cottonwood. Earlier I had made up my mind to drive to the Village of Oak Creek to retrieve a CD a friend had burned for me, which I’d foolishly left in my drawer at work and forgotten to take home. (In my defense, I’d had an unexpected 12-hour shift…) But the falling snow convinces me, with little experience driving on snowy roads, to stay in the warm and cozy. I’ll get the CD tomorrow, and put it in the truck before my shift begins.
The moral of this non-story is that sometimes the best thing to do is no thing at all. Thus this page:
Now let us be quite candid
Uplift & have & hold
Then we’ll be even-handed
Hubraics countermanded
It does no good to scold
Nonaction is an unflipped coin
Gong yet unbashed an unboinged boing
Incongruous scale has been used by artists from time immemorial to a few hours ago, when a place mat was enlarged beyond easy belief and put inside the orbit of the moon of a gas giant. The intention in this case is transportation away from Earthly, and human, concerns.
Spectral Sanctums
Surface and its tension are at times strange bedfellows
Placematting of orbital proportions and sensoria
Engendered for oblique kinaesthesia foster alien nation
Crucial to a viewpoint less anthropocentric
Tension and its surfaces disconnect intellect
Rationed rashness rekindles much adieu
ALtogetherness will bring us optimal pessimisms
I’m finally free of that albatross of a Manuscrypt [sic] for a while–sent it off just before noon. That also means I’m free of the blog-posting restriction I imposed on myself. So this is a celebration. POS can stand for any number of things–Point of Sale, for instance. Sybil has come to mean “crazy multiple-personality person” in recent years. It? IT is what IT is. Ease is what we all non-strivingly strive for some time or the other, and this is the time for this guy. More later. Over & out for now!
Here is the consummate environmentalist. She fearlessly spoke out against the profligate use of pesticides, which she wisely renamed “biocides,” and her successful battle against the propaganda and dirty-dealing of such as DuPont was the single most important factor in the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency. Thanks to Wikipedia, YouTube, and any number of environmental websites on the Internet, her passionate voice may be heard instantly by anyone with computer access. Her message is just as timely as it was in 1962, the year of publication of her Silent Spring, whose title refers both to the loss of birdsong due to pesticide collateral damage and the potential Earthwide silence should the rapists of Mother Earth continue their fell practices.
I am working on a double-acrostic poem and page on her which will be the final needed ingredient for my manuscript of Natural Distractions, the poetry/image collection that I’ve been working on every day. Here is the work in progress:
ETA on the completed manuscript, and with it the completed Rachel Carson page, is tomorrow morning. Upon its completion I’ll convey it to David Chorlton, a fine environmental defender in his own right, for editorial assistance. Stay tuned! [determined smile]
Yesterday’s post included a page in progress, the double acrostic for which is “Reversals Rehearsal.” By sheer happenstance I put the page in a notepad from four years ago, and found to my amused startlement that back in August of 2010 I’d also done a reversal-oriented acrostic, “Rotarepo Reversal Lasrever Operator.” Here they are together, first the Then page and then the Just-Now (I finished “Reversals Rehearsal” less than three hours ago).
Here is the first one’s acrostic:
Rotorepo Reversal Lasrever Operator
Ravel played–fearlessly–upon the cello
Odd glides, and gearless, like a wheeling rap
Tor/Reveals & revs and Engine with a swelled toe
Anticipating fervor from the captor
Rejoindings are from spicy to vanilla
Ecstaticburgh to Dullsville Ajo, AZ to Monserrat
Processes under the aegis of Symmetry go
Oscillantly; the bulrushes wave in the mirror
Here’s the other:
Reversals Rehearsal
Roly-poly M E C H A N I S M S make the world go rounder
Even when you’re plummeting before you hit the ground you’re
Va–RRROOOOMED aloft as gear & motor sync & then enmesh
Exogenous as a woman wearing a caleche
ROUND the buswheels ROUND the corner ROUND the Sports Arena
Schwarzchild radii describe where relatives go tweener
As the whirling world revolves a visual précis
Lets lay & learned folk alike infer a starry sea
Sometimes celestial events turn starmass hyperreal
Curious that both poems involved a revving engine. The “rev” in Reversal, perhaps?
There are some words that seduce the poet through ululation. Ululation is one such. Then there are uvula, Pavuvu, Honolulu–and alula.
An alula, also known as a spurious or bastard wing, is a substructure of the bird’s wing that when flexed changes the airfoil of the wings, raising the pressure differential of upside and underside airflow, which helps prevent the bird from stalling. My first encounter with this word was as a teenager reading Robert A. Heinlein’s “The Menace from Earth.” His protagonist, one Holly Jones, resident of the Moon, liked to fly using her top-of-the-line Storer-Gulls. Controls encircling her thumbs allowed her to flex her alulae.
When the happy mashup of Honolulu and a peregrine falcon showed up on my radar, I could not but celebrate with this page, which is really a celebration of the word alula and its plural alulae.
falcon alulae
flight is pull & swoop & hula
atmosphere the crafter’s tool
lift her over honolulu
climb with her into the cool
oft aloft: the sky’s bathsheba
never stall–“thumbs” up, meine liebe
“We have clearance, Clarence.”
“Roger, Roger.”
“What’s our vector, Victor?”
–from AIRPLANE! and here’s that plus more in 26 memorable seconds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVq4_HhBK8Y
vector
vie o power of cross-connect
view the vistas to redirect
east & upward the seagulls go
end a lull with a to & fro
crash to pieces & come together
cataclysm to balmy weather
My first Life Drawing class was in the Spring of 1973. My eighth or so was sometime in the early 2000s. Outside the classroom there were a few occasions, and today I found an unfinished drawing circa 2010. I believe the model was Valley-local legend Crystal Cruz. Shoplight lighting and a skeleton made for a good erotic/macabre ensemble.
Bone Fire
Balderdash & one naïf
One in love with fluffy Fifi
Neither wishes to demur
Either’s ether’s too unsure
Fire & Bone
Flimsy limb & leg of lamb
IED goes off & Wham-O
Rip a tide & keep it keen
Enter Now & make the scene
This celebration of Charcoal in its various forms was done not in charcoal but in pencil. Without proper charcoal paper, charcoal, a real chamois, at least two kinds of eraser, and fixative, it is unwise to attempt a coherent charcoal drawing.
I here galorify Charcoal with three acrostic poems and one drawing of four Charcoal incarnations:
Charcoal I
Carbon & gum arabic
Have a vine & dandy go
Add your dark and scarabic/A
Righteous DARK’ll Rock & Roll
Charcoal II
Could be it’s a stick with colic
Half a shadowed calico
Anti-talc or -tapioca
Rich rococo cocoa local
Charcoal III
Crackled screeches: cacophonic
Half a circle makes a halo
And a matador’s veronica
Robbing feedlots of a payroll
Visually the first page seems more tepid and timid than the second one. On the other hand, the second page is more sloppy and jungly than the first one. 
One with Clay, Image and Text 