While I sat, considering,a one thousand-footer traversedtwo-thirds my far horizon.It is empty, up bound forore,and birds hang aboutagain. Can anyone saywhat is heaven,where is God, whoor what makes a miracle? From Lords and leaders,hear weexpectations of the end,some write their salutations,bendany willing earto hear the guillotine hit,as mask and wig tumbletoward the pitand disappear. IContinue reading “March Twenty-Third”
Tag Archives: love
That Force Which Through The Green Fuse
(January 18, 2024) Outside,puffed birds are actingcrazy today.Perhapsthey have a temporary blindnessgranted themby whichever, whomever forcecan offer kindness on the one hand as antidote for icy truthheld in another.Maybe the flappersare simple, foolish, joyful?stamping wings the way I would feetto get warm? I am glad the long grasswent to seed,the berries to dry.My ordinary procrastinationContinue reading “That Force Which Through The Green Fuse”
In Six Seconds, I Will Get Back to You
Many statements trueor notreceive that broad applausewhich indicates, in glitter-sound,alignment with the lawsa group of social voters passwith random muster-calls. It has been saidin public means,writtencrude on walls,that thoughts of sexinvade not womenbut men, most oftenof all. By this belief,it’s every seven seconds then,those full-grown boys,the masculine,think of hairy partsor carnal actsfrom which all livingContinue reading “In Six Seconds, I Will Get Back to You”
A Trick To It
What can sun doto brickthat has not already been done? Time, with circumstance,shapes the mud and straw heart,that, still eager for fulfilled promise,will leap, head last,toward the nearest oven. Is it possible,sun might further hardenthat thing,built of rock broken over eons,ground to small grains,mixed with the many tears,strengthened by dry, fibrous life? Is the furnaceContinue reading “A Trick To It”
Just Enough Birds
How beautiful the birds wereyesterday. Hard at the work of makingliving lookeasy,the fragile creatures flew back and forth,making a God-awful lotofnoise. The most annoying, repetitive soundswere ones having to dowith territorial rightsand love-making,those two things which I do not have. Jeez. I got up and closed the damn windowbuthow beautiful the birds were. Flashes ofContinue reading “Just Enough Birds”
The Trees From Which
Those trees from whichgreat violins were fashionedmade sounds like sighing.Bold limbscreaked and groaned,urged by wind that spentmidnightbeing musical. This is not quite the same musica cricket makes when itrubs its legs together at evening,arousing,but you get the idea. Perhaps Antonio Stradivariheard a branch moan,leaped from his bed, thought,“That is my elusive tone!”and ran to hisContinue reading “The Trees From Which”
Revelations
Flagrant summer strips offand the hidden places are shown,collected bunches of warm things,dry twigs, torn fur, used feathers anda plastic bag or two,floated from the nearby grocery. Beast and bird, by nature knowing how,built their nests secret, high,out of sight,safe against dark times, yet no matter how innate construction skill,all hopeful gathered homes aremake-shift, temporary,notContinue reading “Revelations”
Parameter Study
I thought I heard thepoet sing, the chanteuseand the preacher, too.Harmonic moments, I supposed,held music that had much to dowith love. I posited love’s point might bewhere song and heart collide,far from me, a mystery, beyond, below, above, outside, forunder my researching lens,the heart turns into meatthat only electricity canever urge to beat.
These are the Days
‘These are the days, my friends,these are the days.’ – Philip Glass This is the day, my friend,this is the only day,the solitary timefor you to readwhat I haveto say. This is the minute,it is youandI. You cannot hear much screaming.from the place whereI sit writing, so nothing proves thatsomewhere, sevenbillion otherscenesexist. In the placeContinue reading “These are the Days”
Stars
Sometimes,when it’s still,I sing to hear the soundand wonder ifour dusty-brownbirds do this, too. Though worksong’s ofgreat import every day,there must be time and roomfor play. In this way,I dreamthe creatures call each othersilly names at times,sole to hearthem echoed backwhen humdrum’s sunclimbs. Further, yet, my theory is:life keeps an hourdivinefor each and all toContinue reading “Stars”
Robert On The Air 