Monday, August 29, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 33, Epitome No. 3

August New York
She came in waves
Her contractions rose
In a crystal rain
A façade of corporate personhood
Lucifer fell from grace
To save dear God aesthetically
His icy taste an ornamental apple
An orbit of divinities
The angels flew to New York
At the shot of a Brooklyn gun
And by fields of sugar cane
Coming on
Leaving fires in their august city
The gardens of remembrance
Ghosts kissing on the water
Falls sunrise in the grassy desert
Catch the industry felling grace aforementioned
The industrial desert calls
To a stormy old soul
A weathered storm
A ripened fruit at last breath withal
As time insufficient
To bear flower to reality
'Tis just a moment comes and goes
Is all in all
Won't you watch me?
I want to disappear into the life like ochre
The existent non entity
A gentleman of cordial depth
In his glass taste the humanity leaving
Tumbling silent and digital
An Arabian night
Full moon gap kissing the air in her lips
Don't force it
It's too subtle
The former absence
Glows now in the metered echo
Canons gouging memories
Beneath tall ceilings
Elevating consciousness
And modulating cordialities
In receding openness
Less current to speak of minds
Just contemplating
Disseminating
All the room free of conversation
The great American opera
A toss of hair turn of a page
In the fading summer breeze
Rising to trust in the ambient ideology of the spheres
Recluse persistent and silent in the gaps the music breathes
Willing to stand empty of posture
A figurine ineffable
I stared him dead silent in the eye
'Midst the cultural rain
And we met so soon
A façade crystallized
The repetition a fresh dream to imagine
To realize
A carrier pigeon
A trapeze artist
Flying over the river
Though a free bird never flies
He just rides the current
That's all
An eagle scouring the bald heights of industry at sunrise
Scheming his thievery
Drunk off the moon night 'fore
A wolf on the American prairie
The industrial desert sprinkled with grass
Porcelain rain to nourish the sweetest parting sorrow
A scowling meditation
Howls our souls into past disintegrations
Of the steady meet
The glitching hue
A ghost of routine
In newly lightened netherworlds
Like moths to ambiance
We flock to gods
Infatuate or contrived
Those stormy lovers
Flying circles 'round our weathered eyes
We're by some hope then mesmerized
My love was a naked downward spiral
Eyes wide shut in the dark
Groping for whomever with gusto
Left in tattered hearts
A current swift to coax a waking motion
After her abyss was stilled
She came coagulated
A summer wine
Lightly chilled
A shiver down the spine
At the peak a violin
Déjà vu
Watched the hood of darkness
Breathe embroiderings of black stilts
Above the pointed rooftops
Harboring the olden souls' gentle arrogance
In the eagles' eye I was poverty
In the wolves' I was crying abandon
A panic so rapid as to still
Distill serenity remarks
The dark is mere the light
Where yet to point us home
Where the heart is scattered wide
A gestural dance of love upon a prairie
The cemetery loosens us so deft
That the horseman lost his head
Chasing the tales of birds that sing the sun
It's dusty in the empty rooms of soul
And we've no doors to close behind
Rather the foam of sea
Coming so close to home we die
Sipping merlot with the blackbirds
A dash of blood beneath the wing
Twirling sparkling water with the bluebirds
A ray of sun in flight to sing
All through the thickets' swamp
Where thieving masters capture things of grace
And rape their souls that came too far
Falling irreversible without a trace
The tails of wives of old
Goodnight my lover
I've lit a candle for you too soon
The savannah is a golden flame
Where we imagine we came true
Though even all in all
A moment came and went
Then late one stormy night
By that same candle had been lit
I felt our shadows had been drift
Up from foamy sea
Ghosts kissing in the august fall
The New York symphony
And on the prairie where the rabbits play
Their holes of darkened shame
In American persistence
We can simply turn the page
Toss our hair upon the wind
And meet so soon again
Carry on another day
For after all and all
Love is just a whisper woke
That we must proper cultivate

Monday, August 22, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 32

The mouse ate the fox
Silent in her cunning
Her clever drawing out
Unforgiving like cold
At the landing of the waterfall
Life or death
Roots (entrenched/flooded)
Still visions comprising
Sparkling airs of rise
The mist
Profound condensation
Arrivee
The (drowned/muted) symphony
Elicits tango of the birds of prey
Dark waltz of prayer leaves
Sharp on threesome gusts
And many claws'
Talons clenched
To (intimate/imitate/advise)
Under wings may stare
A soldier in arms in eyes
Not beg to shiver please
'Tween lines' white light breeze
A silent spiral incessant
Breaks apart
And leaves scatter to the winds'
Some tropic gusts some colder gales
Some force of pollen in slumbers'
Sweet ambrosia
Le Alouette a golden eagle
And a bald
The ravens in concert jest
As in great coward
Doth read in between
Just one step late
Always
Hesitation
Repetition
Silence the bellow fair
Lightning gliding back to shore
Pray pity the parted air
Spoken
Colliding open d'imaginer
A fantasmer happiness

Tango de la Materia, No. 31

Leaving
At the reiteration of trust
Watching the valleys of a corporate personhood
Fold in the silence
Jittering to admit a truth
Will fall on ears deaf
And swipe in tears
Only wept in self dissolution
As the time is clinging
To timing flights immediate
The rushing summer
Was so brief a romance
It might have faded faster
If only he'd danced
His old soul to stay
The ghost will have to walk miles
Imagining the European rain of doubts
Falls in Brooklyn too
The industry deserts
Instead grassy nights
Lush like passing flames we plume

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 30

After eight the light is scarce
Crimson haloed like night
'S snowfall leans the branches
Pure concept in arc
Might be played an air
A shadow strewn of substance
Other flame shivering
Le coeur de feu
(In-sincere) jest
Hath (a pair/appeared)
Batting lashes tamed
Comme pour le changement
Comme pour laisser

Tango de la Materia, No. 29

One moment he called
And another he was gone
Did she sit still
Because she could taste
The wind that carried him?
The level arch of her tongue
Impressing moist upon her pointed finger
A cold sensitivity to direction
To intentions farther
Than an eye to mention could tell
One moment calling it perpetual
He raked a garden of his chains
'Til his roots did sever
So that the gusto might plant him
On some higher plain
Some perception culpable
Of categorizing sense
On a palette of emotion
Nothing more
A neigh mere in the late light of field
A missing bore

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 28

Promise me you won't leave me
Even if I leave you
And o promise me then
To please in petty lieu
And (owe to me/do promise me) your truth
As a desert (lingers/lounges)
Beneath the motions we move through
And o the desert sands are shifting
As we are standing soon

Monday, August 15, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 27

You
If only you knew
The pain does swirl my head
As you lament the loss of unborn children
And tell me that I am like the rest
Having sold my paternal soul
To the god of Sense
Far from daring
If only you could taste
The tears did run
At the moment of sacrifice
Ah if only we could redeem
The children we once knew

Tango de la Materia, No. 26

At some point cynicism becomes
But a mirror of itself
And trails off to the hills of illusion
Forgotten revolutions of the sun
Evental climaxes
In need of self interruption
Total eclipse
Discarding (philosophy/poetry) as such
Self overthrow
In attunement to
The free agent hypocrite
Self without image
Illusions of the hills
Reflect in the once death
Now rebirth
Now radical reconstruction
Becomes now Idea
Discarding the Other
Once passively undone

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 25, Epitome No. 2

A golden angel streaming profuse crimson

Huddled in the shadows of hailing trees

Setting faith in humanity

I am the emancipated son of pagan gods

Wearing Christian sleeves in personality

Corrupted by a truth

Ringing of emotion

A belief in auras

Passing mere away

With time dear (traditions/

Transitions emancipatory)

Time is standing still

Rotation of a dark curtain

Veil of otherworldly

The sun spun flickering shadows

In the vagrancies

A chilling notion something was

Is still and what is a dream

He shivered at his spine

Like an axis for reprieve

A grey bird he shook

Like an angel

That like a coward bled into his soul

And was his guardianship

As the blessed saved deceived their souls

And eerily fathomed Him alone

A dark place for dust to wither

No saviour quite perspicacious enough

A poverty of religion

Rationalized to moat

Of ideology depressed on tongues

As an ailment to expression

Language in the grain

Shivering

Like fear does mock the good of soul

Revolting the (cultured/occulted) hush

Abstinence of relenting belief in hues

He’s passing fast away

I’ve imagined dust like solitude

Films my skin

In time

Retreating old stubborn conviction

The passion must escape

The flickering hide of legacy

Carving deep into the poor man’s night

A nostalgic wilderness

This silence heaving stuttered

Convulsing asexual indigo

At the shrill of violin strings

The Eastern machination of pride

He spoke like a glitch

An estranged mariner

Sailing endless seas of guiltless depth

Like a bird in prostrate cradle

Out of the body abyss

His soul is waiting on becoming

Still so passing away

His chest heaves this ribcage

Gaunt of lordsome shrines

And the angels whisper him to wake

A holocaustic asylum

Reaches only a passing hand

Air like to puncture distance this riveting

Consolation raving childish

To present a world assimilated

In the soulful historic ignorance

Has a past so fast away

Fragments of mosaic reflection

An introspect absent existential

Though relieved in the evasive blue light

Of wildflowers

A stamp of violet mockery

The burden irrelevant in legacy

Of disintegrating response

Just the simmering scarlet oaks

Lining the canal strings of ancestry

Like accordions

I remember swans playing a soft silence on violins

The late night I swallowed soul

And imposed my fears into the red light machinery

The (dark-room) developing wildflowers

Starved of ambient light

Evoking soft blue featherings

I remember cowardice

Diving nevertheless into freezing rivers

Not able to shed a tear in this cold

I can only wither in the fall

Passing away repetitions

Captures tight the grit of dusty memories

In neon snowflake cages

I remember insanity

And I loved the world that way

I didn’t shiver in the cold

I didn’t stutter repeat

He didn’t shake like a schizophrenic coward

Thinking his personality away

When he died

Still I sit thinking

Still I’m falling grey

I remember light

Teeming deconstruction

The shading carve of lumbering trees

Caving in the empty forest

I heard the thoughtless rumble

I felt the wash of retreat

And I pecked my lover

Like an angel of a bird

To shatter the solitude

And cradle the abyss out of my shaking body

And she screeched like a raven

His lips were so cold

He passing away

At evening glow he leapt for the river

Impassioned disarray

The current icing on the rhapsody

It shattered his soul

Like a prayer on a hollow glass

The residue of darkened lips

Invoking ecstasy

They shook they quivered

At personalities out of body out of mind

They glitched they faded

Like digital traces

They passing away

I raced home heretic avenues

The capillary to faith

Tributary to the rain

It’s grey

My love is a dream

I’m pecking with the angels

And his breathing is fading

He passing away

The tunnels are coagulating in torrents

Skies a heavy sensuous

Shaking

Shades of grey (intention/

In tension) he passed at last away

And my head strained to birth the sun

Past through the horizon

And open the vagrant womb

On ambient night it’s parlor

The private hush of victory

His passing gasp away

We met so soon

In silent eyes

And the cello moaned of home

Cellistka combs and cries

It’s quiet now to roam

The fields of bright blue wildflowers

How passing fast the day

He believes it not

They sang his leveling

Tango de la Materia, No. 24

When carry the world

Upon thy shoulders

No soul will venture

To (lend/loan/even hold) a hand

’Least not for long

Without lies

Life a heavy feather

In ailing breeze

Rather swarm all of the mountaintops

Having found thyself

So tightly knit

Needed to (unravel/unwind)

And in a weep of drugged passion

Hath forsaken love her children

Hath (buried/burned) them unborn souls

At times a soul of word

Must know to break the Word

Ephemeral

Seeing things that simply

(Aren’t there/are hiding)

In material stain

Vicarious memories’

Great divide

Wheat and grapes like bread and wine

Hath eaten Thyself alive for a lie

Then one ’n it’s all gone

Thy’ll have it all

And all’ll be far

Far gone the martyr’s call

Tango de la Materia, No. 23

With a weight on thy shoulders

Like walking through the cold always

Huddled and alone

And not a soul might see through

And yet doth wonder

Why thee walk so fast

And don’t stop to say hello

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 22

Manic bravery

I sat dreaming of love

The moment to flesh

To wisp it away in a trust

We burn our lives

Like candles into black seas

Raging hopeless throes

Redundancy of self

It is just expression

Watching the shadows

On walls not even there

As if we could see them

Weeping

And racing alone