wordmaths

W O R D M A T H S

"as I sleep
the deep green seas tore at the shore."
In my defence
I'm sure it's
that most wordsmiths
have worked the Earth;
its life..its weather
in metaphors galore.
This sun that moon arise. A Rose.
the cliff gales, what the dark knows,
poorly lit paths,
the sway of mayhem---
the sweet wordmaths
configuring out
Reflection.

Found Incidental Pertinence 2 (kinda lost)

kinda lost (Do you note a theme, a pattern, a leitmotive if you will running through these spills?)

"..Just a beer light to guide us.."
- David Bowie

"And this is the simple truth--that to live is to feel oneself lost"
-Soren Kierkegaard

G L I M P S E
A trance makes its appearance
and placid lakes pull fog tight,
perfect light performs subtle sonatas
for dance,
for ponderance
tucked not very loud in a cloud.
And I guess I get my own drift.

-found in an old folder just now, years ago

Found Incidental Pertinence 1

S O D I F F E R E N T -Kay Ryan

A tree is lightly connected
to its blossums.
For a tree it is
a pleasant sensation
to be stripped
of what's white and winsome.
If a big wind comes,
any nascent interest in fruit
scatters. This is different
from humans, for whom
what is un-set matters
so oddly---as though
only what is lost held possibility.


From Flamino Watching, Kay Ryan
for s.

blood shadows oils for later

In the upper peninsula of Michigan
blustery State Road 2 you must go.
It's quite common to drive over
deep blood in snow/ dead buck or a doe.
Just as felines must fall & fill gutters
South of there, all over.
deep blood in the snow.
With the people of upper Michigan
it's quite common they'll drape over
& tie up their meat
off the back of their battered trucks
and freight it home to their freezers
for later.

Here in Southwest Florida
on the way to work
it's uncommon...
(I called out "Oh my God")
it's uncommon to drive over...
(I killed an alligator)
I was light on sleep and late for work
All in a dream's dread, in my headlights,
I called out "Oh my God"

Still When I left working, dark in the dawning
(I left It for the taking. It was gone.)
Still were spilled shadows. most it was gone.

Lost. home, what would save me?
milk cream & alcohol
Nor Down on my knees
under Art on a wall;
Oils spilled on
empty space clean
I know is for all, from All.
(I called in "oh my god")
stains for a dream

As ever, the darkness/ the light

pretenders who knew & liked me
now are likely
just gone.
Sure I'm sullen,
I am surly,
but surely less vague.
Must one
who won't find his feet
forego freely his fog,
part with his mists of his
heart, his spells, on his own bog?
-----------------------------------------
she rolled her head on my arm
from side to side in the dark
not long after lovemaking.
When I asked her why she shook her head
she admitted she & sleep were working out;
when birds nest the weather warms, NO,
where it's warm then birds will settle.