It was never the case, at least not in the modern world. Outside a few. Outside a few lone souls, able to live on grass and berries. Able to hunt and gather, make their own shelters, their own clothes, treat themselves when they got sick. Pull their own teeth. Make and fix their own modest tools. Having next to no layers between themselves and the earth. Right there. Being there always. Right on top of the earth, like mother and…
You were my dream So the poets say So they spin and wrack their minds How to express what can not be Love Love of Love of her Of life Of the stars Anything that crisscrosses Their eyes and ears Their fifth or sixth dimension Like the waves they see As stand-ins for her Like the mountains they see As symbols of her strength The irony the melancholy Of it all is Of course the non-abstract Nature of…
There are blue fields to love And red oceans Of course Plus black rain on May Day But it’s always been At least for me The sheer genius of flannel clouds That knocks me for a push-pull Or two or seven loops Like a child’s long shout out To our morning goddess After they’ve had their swim Their cereal their prize-winning song After they’ve frozen their dreams For the image-zoos The butterbread-museums The psychic kaleidoscopes of…
I want to discover the magical links Before they appear Though to be honest I’d much Rather actually see them Than invent them whole-cloth or whole-sale Wouldn’t it be great if that were to happen? Hallucinate my way into poetic fusions Instead of just writing them? Instead of twisting myself Into pretzels alchemically With nonsense salt On top Or on the plate? This is what it all comes down to For poets seers prophets and Kitchen repairmen Who turn the…
Kobe Bryant’s passing, at 41, is a tragedy, as are the deaths of his daughter, Gianna, just 13, and the seven others on board that helicopter. Millions across the globe have been impacted by this, perhaps especially the generation that grew up along with Kobe, watching his evolution into one of the NBA’s all-time greats. His peers in the game of basketball have spoken out, too, some tearfully, and it’s apparent they honestly grieve this loss. My own reactions were…
The eternal question(s): Does it matter what the artist intended? His or her background? His or her influences, research, working methods? Do these things matter when it comes to how an audience interprets or should interpret their work? Yes and no and maybe and perhaps, in no particular order. As in, great works of art, at least, don’t require the acquisition of such knowledge (to be appreciated), though that knowledge may enhance the experience. It can also ruin it, or…
Different times blah blah blah Call for different blah blah blahs As in Right now there is no reason For all of those blah blahs And extra blah blahs None We need to be direct! Tell it like it is And not worry so much about Offending the cliché police The earth the sea the once blue air The glaciers the beleaguered soil The fires this time So instead of stories about this or that Neuroses This…
John Wick is cool If you like that sort of thing And I do But not for the usual reasons He’s in-de-struct-able And that can come in handy – a lot That’s really it in a nutshell And, no, he doesn’t have Superpowers – per se He just survives when others don’t – like moi For instance Like when I’m fighting my usual endless battles Against ancient but lively assassins and I keep dying over and over again John Wick…