May 29, 2016

poem insists on wearing the clothes mother comet Goddess made for us to celebrate Panspermia Eve

Heiroglyphical Representation of Jupiter or Pan from Athanasius Kircher's Œdipus Ægyptiacus.

what do you mean 
I have gone off the deep end 
well sir you seem to have taken 
to king-ing yourself a courtly idiot 
and quite frankly darling 
it does suit you 
but rather than participate 
in your coronation 
and its resultant world at large 
I would rather have you slave away 
inside my domed biospheres 

the ants have been building 
these arks for millennia now 
in order to save all the botanical species 
from any extinction 
due to loss
of the magnetosphere 
when the universe's first 
black dwarf with its snow white in tow 
follows a mother comet on home 
coming back to visit her brood 
here where we are 
poem and I 
the lullabies 
we children 
sing to the ancients 

(on top of any mountain is a song the wind teaches us)

she is why poem exists 
be her young or older 
married or never with 
a single someone else 
children or not apron strung 
she is ours 
our words 
mine and poem's
our bliss 
how we follow 
kiss nectar 
one moment 
to the next 

the best laid plans
of humans can be bricks 
and mortar, though 
the houses we 
feel most at home in
are always made of cards 
and meant to be set on fire 

to get straw to be gold 
Rumpelstiltskin said to us once 
you have the right colored glass windows 
to see infinity through the lies that keep you 
grounded and adhered to tether-ball courts 
of cinema escape 

modernity's lamination 
captures life in lathed once ago(s) 
old tourist stops 
and malt shops 
in the post war 
culture America 
we are obsessed  
with meaning 
we are and were 
and always wanted 
to be these 
two kids 
spun round 
in a garden 

(the tailor struck nine)

sewn on 
we soon 
figured figures 
letters symbols 
counting numbers 
marking times 
that the light 
we wanted 
to be held by 
itself was born 
in sea caves 
like we always 
thought we were 

sometimes we just want to wither away and become the dust 
again wind and seed let fates decide where we lie and bleed 

do we wear our selves thin meniscus driven  
but then when does mother comet return 
and do we know the nautilus shape 
of heavens was exhaling invertebrates 
and the spines of told tales 

an ever open expanse 
of space and time 
the old dowry cloth we kept 
for life's emergencies 
was folded corner to corner 
neatly inside a cedar chest 
at the top of the attic stairs 
we knew the past 
and the future 
somehow belonged 
atop each other 
right there where 
it was presented 
leeward-ly leaning 
drift netting post-Descartes 
Tom Robbins' Pan 
his gallant dancing electricity 
and subtle musk carrying 
all our mother May eyes 
to any other third stone 
from the Sun we could find 

EJR © 


  1. Cracking up over "Pan-spermia." :) Especially when you partner it with "Eve." Quite the garden party, my friend.

    "ex-tinction" has always been one of my favorite splits

    "p/rac/t/icing" ... breasts, physical therapy, and icing ... sounds like destiny's hands at work, when it comes to this combo

    1. "the wind teaches sus(s)" ... I like.

      The "she is why poems exist" stanza is my favorite.

      "best laid plans" ... hilarious

      mortar = more tear (as in ripping, I think)

    2. "our houses we" ... great line break; so much truth here, that "we" (as in our souls) are our own houses, rather than anything physical ... not even our bodies

      eventually = even/two/ally ... everything burns up in some sense; there's no way around it ... at some point, not even marriages or best friendships can be "home" for us ... especially if we haven't yet found/built it inside ... that's something we *must* do alone

  2. I love the layering and line breaks in the Rump. stanza. In fact, that and the Maypole ref. reminded me of that dance video, which I'mma hunt down and repost, right away.

    "modernity's lam(b)i/nation" ... I love that.

    I don't know what YOU mean by the tailor line, but I see him sitting down (in 9 o'clock position, like the shape of a chair), just looking at his perfected work, in awe, as she spins for him to show off the dress he made her

    1. Also a tail-er (the obvious, but also a tracker, trying to catch the number 9). Why? Because it's the perfect number, duh. Ooh, it's also a woman who's close to a 10. But she won't stop bouncing around (like on those preschool videos for teaching counting) , so he has to clock her (tee hee) to get her to be still ... for questioning? Is she involved in a crime? Ooh, this is getting very interesting.

      I LOVE that who next stanza. It's all cave-man-y and tribal and Harry Potter, but more Tom Riddle, scaring the little children with his spells (hee. hee, get it?).

    2. "we knew the past and the future somehow belonged atop each other" ... That should be the only thing that matters.

      So to me, this is a Harry Potter series metaphor (with Pan as a guest star [although you will say he is THE star]) ... the sorting hat, trying to find our place, deciding between good and evil, wondering what those concepts really even mean and how that affects us as individuals and as partners ... then there's the fact that the speaker(s) is/are orphans ... Tom and Harry and their blended energies, histories, and powers ... but Ginny's in there too, the girl he's meant to be on top of ... only you call them past and future, and I see lovemaking ... but obviously I'm just doing what I do, which is hijack your poem, put it through a shredder, and mosaic the mesh out of it.

  3. Read the folk tale, "The Brave Little Tailor" ... I think you might like it ...

    1. I'm going to have trouble finishing it. I'm sad that he hurt the unicorn. That's all kinds of messed up. You should never risk tampering with unicorn magic.

  4. I thought you said "The Brave Little Toaster" at first.

  5. And a great mash up I have to say ... It allows me a good outside to inside ears, nose and ruby throated sparrow look at the piece ...

    1. ruby throated sparrow ... if that's your own little off-the-cuff expression, you should put it in a poem

    2. That line comes from a favorite song of mine by Crosby Stills Nash and Young (Suite: Judy Blue Eyes) ... A song you might want check out, I dare you not to sing it after listening to it once ...

    3. I will listen to it. But I will not accept your dare, for I do hope it compels me to sing, and I don't want to have to fight the urge.