quelque jours, dès l’aube, quand Vénus se récuse du ciel
et la lumière d’or de l’est embrasse la terre
je m’asseois et sirote la rosée du matin
et je pense à toi
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.
And when it widens and when it narrows,
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.
We rise and fall together like the tide.
Kinetic beings in the ebbs and flows.
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.
And ever moving we cannot elide
The surge of life when pebbles bite the toes.
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.
You found me in my twenties full of pride,
But what was that to what my life now knows?
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.
The trees cast shadows, you and I have tried.
Your sublime being through your beauty shows.
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.
When you change pace I'll always match your stride.
And live this love and watch it as it grows.
For we chose this path to walk side-by-side.
We do not seek shelter or place to hide.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 1:14 AM UTC
Was is it you Tenebrous?
Who stopped my eyes from opening up
Who took my sight
I saw before
All the vibrant colors of creation
Now all is darkness
Nothing more
Am I unmade?
Who cannot see his own face in the glass
Yes, for you have unmade the very world with this
And space is nothing
But an enemy to sound
And I am nothing
But an ear to the ground
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
life's but a walking shadow
a violet in the youth of primy nature
the perfume and suppliance of a minute
no more
a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard
no more
forward, not permanent, sweet not lasting
it is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 2:01 AM UTC
In his eight quartet Shostakovich
externalizes his most internal self.
Using his own name
to paint the hellish moodscape of a city disassembled by violence -
as his own body too
went to war with itself.
That doleful counterpoint of haunting melodies,
lacking all life, vibrato-less,
yet twists into demented dance.
Some demon, puckish, plucking at the strings.
And moves the observer,
uncontrollably,
in time with the music.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
the universe was created with you, little one
just as it was with me
that chaogenous, fifteen billion year experiment of emptiness and energy
unraveling in an instant when you first perceived
the beat of your mother’s heart
and your own
and so it expands
not from some fabled point of origin in the middle of space
but from your mind
and with every sensation
becomes more awesome
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
straw, dunned by driving rain
the frizzle of a watchman unmoving but for the wind
unmoved but for the wind
and by time
as he tends his modest charge
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC
Did Kahn and Cerf realize, in those early days of tcp/ip,
the Promethean gift that they had stolen from the gods
and bestowed on humanity?
And do you remember the phlogistic spread of the World Wide Web,
and the first time you tasted omniscience
with the obnoxious melody of a dial up modem?
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 2:23 AM UTC
pickneed habs in slunder covals
hicked and snayed at fair Medusa
agitated by her beauty
and the statues in her keep
all the while a stranger climbing
sword and shield upon his back
by the entrance stood Medusa
as the pogwach sninckled closer
and the caliwhisps outgrabe
o'er the cliff she peered in wonder
at the beast's ascent towards her
gallow broamsmade in her heart
then, at last, he reached the cornice
rose and stood in briersome glaw
never facing fair Medusa
though the urge was thick and glarn
helpless there she stood in silence
motionless her angsome fra
all at once the blade ascended
snicker-snack and finished all
fair Medusa's life was ended
the wrickling beast now turned and saw
saw the pallid stoney visage
saw and wept in sloamy spow
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 6:29 AM UTC
It was immaterial who had fired the first proverbial shot in the great Schenectady logomachy.
What was immediately clear, however, after the proverbial dust had proverbially settled
was that the battle had left no survivors.
Proverbially.
And what had begun as a simple ballot measure to rebrand the municipal mascot
had ended in the annihilation of every intellect in Schenectady County.
And much of the East, West, and No Coast regions of the United States.
The grass roots campaign to replace the Schenectady Patriot with the Schenectady Concientious Objector
(a figure no less devoted to country, but more "free thinking," its proponents would argue)
had gathered unexpected steam when introduced to the public at large
in a tweet by the nation's commander in chief.
The inevitable result being a relentless and fast paced evolution of the story
by all-day-all-night-all-the-time news producers.
All using the same words with different tone and inflection.
And the relitigation of every detail
by 37% of American households.
Including 6% that didn't actually give a **** but enjoyed participating.
So what had been good natured
and modestly ambitioned
civic badinage
progressed through all the stages of twenty-first century newspeak
familiar to the politically observant of the time.
With any nuanced or genuine debate
relegated to micro-audienced podcasts
and IRC channels scattered about the internet.
And when the measure passed.
As part of a pendulum swing greater than itself.
The victors
taken by surprise
and frayed at all edges
by the death threats and vitriol visited upon them in the preceding weeks
felt sure
that everything would be better off simply left alone.
While their detractors
apoplectic
foretold the end of civilization.
And prepared accordingly.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC