Fork And Other Poems
Page 2
inside of me –
stretching, swelling,
bursting from my hands, my mouth
like the sudden impact
of a high velocity fruit -
a disgorging swamp
as I try and pick
and scrape together
a palatable salad
or clear brush,
hoping for a nice family picnic
just beyond the muck....
I skim her slim volume again and flush -
a sudden bouquet
overflowing the arms,
tickling the nose
of this aging bridesmaid with few
or no prospects.
New Year's Resolution
Such diligent persistence
this act of not quitting
a repetitive, rhythmic
slap, slap
as you turn and work
a machine in constant motion.
A little faster and you think
you can reach that comfort
of doing – just doing for doing's sake
if only for an instance,
or perhaps for a moment
of exhilaration
evocative action
evoking something more
some thing, some place
else just at the edge
of your vision,
your voice proclaiming
that after all
this work
is really not working,
this means really is
empty of all meaning -
the kick slap slowing down
all motto'd out,
fatigue making cowards of us all,
and you think a well rounded person
would surely never be so obsessed
as to trot in place
so simply, so single mindedly
like a dog tethered to a treadmill.
How quickly you forget
the weakness, the vulnerability, the pain
who quite unreasonably
led the way
to your only reason
not to quit,
peace and stillness through constant pursuit
of personal truth and rectification,
your deceptively duplicitous voice
more correct than its own understanding,
all of your work and means ponderous
under the weight of its own portentous unimportance -
we humans really can get used to anything
except perhaps the madly flapping,
kick, slap, pricking talons
extended, spurring us ever on
to never let go.
The sandwich poem
Laying on the couch,
the sandwich
made with
this thin sliced cheese
separated by paper,
now piled in a thick
stack between
buttered bread,
speaks of the artifice
of boundaries,
the preordained uselessness of
divisions.
How flagrant the tossing
of these flags:
le fromage and paper to the garbage,
le fromage and paper to the garbage -
taking a bite,
transforming other into
the essence of me
is never guilt free
and never without rejoinder -
that joie de vivre
sensuousness
of a lemon,
its sourness
and bite of
juiciness,
your breasts
just visible
under your
nightgown
as you walk by.
Fully committed,
all your weight bearing
down
as you step barefoot
onto a tack or piece of glass -
the moment of realization
when you know what's coming
but you cannot resist the gravity
of your own momentum
this must be
what its like
at the moment
of death...
to sink willingly, fully
into the unknown
and not pull away
to know
as we exhale
the last choice -
that we each get to choose
our own meaning.
Of Newtonian physics and entropy
When you put a human joint
at a certain, correct angle
it only takes the pressure,
the power of a single finger
to dislocate or break it -
the elbow, wrist and neck being examples.
You should also know
there is a certain amount of pain involved
before the actual breaking of the joint
depending upon the amount and type
of pressure exerted – this ranging from
twinging, to excruciating, to
unbearable,
and one would think that it would be a small matter
to escape from such a position, and indeed
you can if you repeat the movements of the manipulation
backwards, or at times, by not fighting,
but going with the pain, flipping
your body over the captured joint, of say a wrist
or a shoulder,
and unless you have had the foresight
or quickness to counter the hold
ahead of time,
your only choices: breaking,
dislocation or subjugation –
being moved or
restrained
through the use of pain
commonly known as pain compliance -
the action of your attacker your only other
recourse,
for once the attacker through mercy,
or loss of concentration or fatigue lets up,
even a little, just for an instant,
the lock will begin to slip and is
no longer effective,
and, as we pointed out before, once applied
correctly the pressure of a single finger or even
the strength of a small child
can cause a break or severe
dislocation in the strongest of opponents.
It is of utmost importance
that when you practice
you develop power, focus and
concentration,
the loss of which
can lead to serious injury
and death
and the knowing
that the healing of another
is a much much harder skill
to master,
the result of your ignorance often so severe
it can take a lifetime to heal
from such a wound.
Postscript -
For added poetic significance
I encourage you to insert any number of objects
into the roles of attacker and attackee,
yourself being a good first choice,
while personified Death, the dramatic and obvious second
choice is not recommended.
You should, however, seriously consider the death of a child
or spouse for its more personal and poignant details.
Inanimate objects may be used to great effect
owing to the fact that the subject matter lends itself
to an edgy darkness- discomfort and pain
often being used to elevate levity from
base crassness.
The use of Nature, though, especially the incorruptible
indifference of the Universe to what we perceive as our
most treasured rights, strengths and truths,
comes highly recommended.
But personally, I feel it is best to e
xperience
the perfect poetic resonance
through the actual doing and feeling of it-
the you
bent over, gasping, mouth turning up in disbelief,
the slow unfolding recognition
of your reality,
and you
looking down,
perfectly balanced,
awed by how simple it was when you finally
get it right
that the power in this one finger
is enough for you
to control
the universe.
Come with me sweet
Come with me sweet before a new age dawns,
Before the ripe apple falls, encrusted,
Before the earth draws its mortal savor down,
Let us kiss and be blessed by the infinite.
Let us lie ‘neath our cloud covered heaven,
Unwatched by all in this grass carpet cove,
Away from street light and talk of morning, love,
Lie us ‘neath arms of silence’s protection.
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