In days of old, did pensive dancers loaf about, leaning on temple doorjambs? Or, was that only the case in the minds of sculptors?
Pensive [Free Verse]
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Tag Archives: Free Verse
The Forest [Free Verse]
A sprout sprouts from the dirt. Above, dead leaves keep the tender leaf cool & moist. Below, worms churn the soil -- churn and aerate. Fungi decompose the lowest leaf layer, turning it into nutrients for the sprout. I'm tapped into all that magic from afar: -creation & destruction, feeding into each other -energy becoming life, life becoming matter, matter that - in turn - becomes energy. If there's a forest, I am the forest. I'm life and energy & death and decomposition... all in due time.
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Mallick Ghat Market [Free Verse]
Loomed over by Howrah Bridge -- that big steel beast -- the flower market is a world of color, marigold garlands in orange, yellow, and alternating orange & yellow. The odd stack of roses: white, pink, and -- of course -- red. White garlands with red accents. Greenery. Loose flower heads in piles, pecked at by tiny birds that bounce and flit. Rose petals at risk of being carried by a gust into a swirling cyclone of romance -- only to be left littered on the muddy pavement.
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Mind-Breaking Poetry [Free Verse]
I need some mind-breaking poetry - some Blake, some Dickinson, some Yeats, some Whitman, some Langston Hughes. I need a poem that's a kōan, that makes the mind a mackerel fish, and doesn't mind doing it. I need a poem that sizzles inside my bones.
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Dreams All the Way Down [Free Verse]
I awaken from a dream within a dream, and I'm still dreaming -- dreaming that I'm walking with the others, the others that I'm told are all me, walking in some vaguely familiar exotic destination Of course, I don't know I'm dreaming. I did wake up after all, but it turns out that it's dreams all the way down.
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Tea Master [Free Verse]
drink the wisdom -- you'll find it more in the heat than in the liquid subtle - like the flavor of tea in drinking it you'll discover: there is no tea, but the tea -- a tea-less tea the life in you the life in me melted into a mound of unity
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Unclocked Hours [Free Verse]
Stepping out onto a city street in the cool, unclocked hours of the morning. One looks about, but not as one does in daylight -- i.e. in response to sound. Instead, one looks about in response to the lack of sound. A clawing sound from a burrowing rat isn't worth one's attention. It's the silence that calls upon the mind as to a sailor on shore leave.
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Biodestiny [Free Verse]
linked machine to machine we're bio-destined to oblivion we can take our fidget romps, but we're still turds migrating through a litterbox called life among us are sentient volcanoes, self-aware, but not aware
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City as Organism [Free Verse]
There are cities that grow upon cities, piling them up and spreading them out; amoeba-like false feet reaching down the cold run corridors of transit Markets grow up through the cracks - some vast and hardy tumors of commerce while others are little card table kiosks kicked into corners The view becomes uniform & undifferentiated - like an ocean, sprawling to infinity in all directions; more complex than the sea but equal in its dispiriting sameness In some room or another, in that vast repository of rooms, everything that can happen is happening -- loving, killing, praying, torturing, healing, and so on Rooms are the city's cells; the buildings - its organs; the neighborhoods - its systems; and we are but molecules in the city's scheme.
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Patchwork Lands [Free Verse]
patchwork in shades of green, beige, and rust-red clay geometries formed of odd angles spreading ahead to the edge of sight & imagination so many fields in so many states - yet, all in one time & place there, I felt a tad bit infinite, being stretched from a stable center in all directions as time sprawled first to last in no particular order
Tiger Riding for Beginners 