Seattle, Jollywood    1904 -    
Dangerous but mostly harmless.
"Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature."
"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts..." -William Shakespeare
Dangerous but mostly harmless.
"Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature."
"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts..." -William Shakespeare
  Jan 12  bulletcookie
f
f
Jan 12

In winter,
As she has felt its layers gathering year by year,
She bunches in her couch in terrycloth and flannel,
Taken to travel magazines and cigarettes,
Munching on unreachable destinations
Dipped in Caribbean hot sauce and sandy dreams,
Succulent and alive
In the bowl of the sun.

She has licked at icicles of love,
Felt the unbearable drifting of time,
The cold age of reason
Sliding south and south and south.

She wonders what would be left of her
If she could not dream of her golden places,
If this little fire would no longer light,
If there was nothing left
But the paltry sum of all her melancholy.

Then oceans would not fill her up,
Nor all the heat in the heart of the sun
Warm her desolation
In the face of being.

Invisible in a snowy owl winter storm
holiday poltergeist grasp tight; hearts, minds
feelings, sight, potent in our wild season
coming home free, mule humble

Hello old dog, cat doesn't move but tail
lights on a green pine leaning kitty-corner
some slouch on stuffed sofas sleeping
some sit on stiff cardboard carpet dreams

Bell silver rings dinner in on lace covered tables
while iron tolls ring for pennies in deep snow
silent night winds singing in tongues
lift up these spirits and toast ages told

Memories drill their custom fading holes
leaving tinsel and wand bulbs percolating
bubbles dancing in ever fevered souls
wishing for one more Yule to commemorate

-cec

Your point well dipped
holding indigo blue in your hollow
laden with a fertile flow
life lines form from shallow sips

Ethereal in its feathered flight
shivers with this squall line quill
over contour range of parchment's hills
ghost white as flurries storm, it lights

With words of ink absorb each drop
form a world of conscious stream
there to relish savored dreams
until our wrist is tipped to end, stop

A razor's edge comes forth to cut
this blunted calamus tip of keratin
which sly old Caliban was ripped and written
in sharp whittled shavings of vane's rebut

-cec

pure waves undulate
in waters cling life's ripples
calm condensates all

-cec

This future now and past have
tell a story incomplete
neatly bound in sequence years
cover to cover calculated pages,
some left blank
still searching for words and ideas
worthy of reality and love
In turbulent waters of a heart
tragedy filled and scarred, fulfilling its duty
thirty thousand days or more peril
to what and where end?
To be as life is ...

-cec

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~
"Answer

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse."


- Book: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

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Dec 18, 2016

The very thought of you
strums time out of day-



This baked wilderness defies emptiness
as cactus flowers bloom for none
in sun's blistering sorcery
as scaple sharp, shadow surgery

Of this sovereign heat spell
bleached dunes give way shells
crackling weeds, sentry sands
let arid Bristlecone land

Downward rooted and hoary
fibrous fingers sprout steadfast
retelling scrub brush stories
of phloem wine, mirage's vacuous blast

Clouds, in debt to ocean's soul
owe, are owned by Helios aloft
shape shifting steamy billows
promising royal anointment

Then this evening after life
when all is but spent in scurry strife
let it dwell upon a dream
of leopard rains and keystone schemes

Before silhouette night's numb lull
forcing close to petal's remit
in desiccated continental drift
prepare this silent will

-cec

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Dec 6, 2016

Blue orange and yellow bobs on that horizon
barn big, spiting flames over winged-angel spires
Gods have nothing on this cosmic scale
sent from another heaven's boulder pail

Its center holding imagination's youth
carried for eons among those stars
by this thoughtful memory of truth
that more things compass from afar

Now a mystery in this Great Lake's belly
expectant in its probability aim
and world fortune opens to possibility
a thrown die in a universal game

-cec

 
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