April 14, 2017

we motion self : R all humans tided & tied to emotion ? ......................................... NaPoWriMo2017 #14


from 'Les Diableries'
via The London Stereoscopic Company LTD.


 (this is a poem that plays on experience 
     and the work we do as a now in progress) 

It comes from a Statler and Waldorf-esque 
on mushrooms balcony story time,  
an old radio show if you will 
that is constantly 
background soothing 
to ruffling feathers 
and all other goings 
on in my mind 

*inspired by an accidental falling into 
a rabbit hole mortimer mojavi show


INTRO

candle-d eyes bent on knowing scent 
are what starlight falls through 
bare exposed girders 
in the concrete ceiling to 
You hear the Oud 
the lament of Syria 
is in the smells 
of tire fires 
and spices 
as they mix 
in the night 


pulley, lever 
and tourniquet 
listening are my weapons  
of choice when 
championing myself 

OVERHEARD

<"We live in a bubble of fantasy. :(" + "WE DO...">
*quoted from an online conversation between Johnson Mortimer Johnson and K Mojavi Wright 
two poets, sometimes found in and around the Albany NY area

verse one horde ready homily hominy 
honey and butter gritty bits, 
the ballistics of which are switch happy shit 
we go riding off into our escapes with, 
who matters most, you do I say 
again you do motherfuckers 
now get on being struck by Loving, 
would ya, hungry lore stuffing  
all the holes gone where  
you're a whore for more ... 

verse two is what gets to 
beyond the red and the blue
old dutch houses and poet's blouses 
I also wore velvet 
jacket block heels 
thinking Prince for a moment 
petite monsoon ready purple 
and calling the June 
cull and cunning in me 
as a presence in my own life
thoughts of why stay 
when flying 
I leave my body 
kite-d by dying ...

verse three when you try 
to time Love
your bones tie 
doves and bows 
they'll sing sting 
bring wing a light fantastic 
you become spasmodic 
erotic tonic and toxic 
to yourself, shelf Life hazy 
heavy metal cellular accretion 
and Descartes' reason, is why we get sick 
here and now are artful modernity and the crowds 
are milling, spilling unwilling out loud 
clamoring and glamouring proud 
what no longer surprises us ...

verse four and close out 
storefronts guides 
lords and ladies pied 
above and below 
they row grab seats up close thus 
they can watch the war 
in afflictive whispers 
and daily rituals of time 
head cheese and dissonance 
rhyming the resonance clauses 
they're all paused in
and the band plays on 
we drag the crazy 
from theaters and planes 
from mercy into games 
we watch clips, again and again, 
explain to me if and when 
explain to me, you hit send 
why you need to feed your fears 
when all it does is throw obstacles 
in the way of you knowing why 
this is the play you came to 
and the choral elements gathered for one final movement 
they birthed us this cellular circular hello --->


"Love, getting you was you getting through 
with no regretting being your own damn self "...


<curtains close and little LED lights flicker to a LoFi beat, the theater doors open big fans surrey things delicious over them as they sit, stir and begin to amble, stilled by the after glow of what the fall of Rome this time meant, ships in the harbor, moored bones, empty souls, all seemingly waiting> 

EJR ©

5 comments:

  1. "pulley, lever
    and tourniquet
    listening are my weapons"

    Nice.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "honey and butter gritty bits,
    the ballistics of which are switch happy shit"

    :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. "you become spasmodic
    erotic tonic and toxic
    to yourself"

    Right on.

    ReplyDelete
  4. So perfect:

    "Love, getting you was you getting through
    with no regretting being your own damn self"

    ReplyDelete
  5. I attempted a surreal play on words while immersing the piece in stagecraft ... and I am glad you like the "getting through" line ... fitting for fast brainers :)

    ReplyDelete