Aaron Mullin

Dec 2018

William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?

Aaron Mullin Nov 2018

Raspberry Ridge

In a meadow of wildflowers
under a warm blanket of alpine aromas,
a gusting front gives warning
of impending change yet we sit, observing
as the sun also rises into the moons embrace

July 21, 2018

#love

Aaron Mullin Sep 2018

Bulk Barn

Working your way out of ionic ******* can be
seriously interesting however, it can also be
lugubrious.

I was standing in the aisle at Bulk Barn.
low on neutrinos, I was looking to stock up
I like to sprinkle them on my cereal in the morning

I then made my way down the anti-photon aisle
if you like your coffee black and not sweet, as I do
this is almost as good as other alternatives

I did realize that
my electron supply was fine
but thought I'd get some anyway
just for the ion-y

I don't understand the economics of this transaction
but it is apparent the invisible hand does

When the clerk looked in my basket
I was waved through

Working my way out of ionic *******, lol

#bubonic #ironic #histrionic #chronic #semisonic

Aaron Mullin Aug 2018

/ colonized \

/                        been                       \
/                      thoughts                    \
|                           my                           |
|                         have                          |
|                  LANGUAGE                  |
|                           my                           |
|                          by                            |
|                 INFLUENCED                 |
|                            is                             |
|                          feel                            |
|                            or                              |
|                            do                              |
|                            or                              |
|                          want                            |
|                            or                              |
|                            say                             |
|                              i                                |
|                           that                           |
/                     EVERYTHING                     \
/                                   if                                   \


^                                  ^                                ^
^                                  ^                                ^
^                                  ^                                ^
| language instructs | the way we think |
^                                   ^                                ^
^                                   ^                                ^
^                                   ^                                ^

This poem is rooted in play. If you read this poem in a linear fashion based on the rules of the English language, it will be nonsensical as if Jabberwocky wrote it.

If you take a step back and look at the form and structure and forget a little of what you think you know then you might understand how the narrative flows. And if you dig a little deeper, you might find a few Easter eggs for further contemplation.

#reversepoetry #indigenous #colonize #tears #aboriginal #native #rocket #science

Aaron Mullin Aug 2018

Waiting for the Moon

Think about it,
She off-handedly remarks:
Formality is separateness

Lost in one of the nebulous folds
Of my cerebellum
I acknowledge her comment with a thousand yard stare

Eagle eyed, I surf a warm updraft
To rise above it all
But I can't slip the prison of pre-conception

Amuse me, she says.
Whisper me your pretty little lyrics,
Sing me your song

You have one of the most interesting faces I’ve ever met
I brazenly tell her, and
My minds eye is full of anticipation

I know it’s pedantic
I am not so romantic
Maybe we should not peel back the veneer, but

A peak

It’s inexplicable

Naive and unassuming, with
Bashful sincerity, and
An enduring patience

Awaken: open your eyes
The serpent goddess counsels

And you will find your way

Written January 6, 2016 with insight from Cath Maige Tuired

#brigid #brigit #laurels #jewels

Aaron Mullin Jan 2018

<>Between<>the<>Bars<>

I saw a good person do a bad thing once
I thought I was a good person but I did a bad thing once, too

Have you ever seen a good person do a bad thing?
Have you ever been the good person doing a bad thing (on occasion)?

Have you ever seen...
<>the bars that imprison you?<>

Have you ever been...
<>the bars that imprison you?<>

There is a potential to be stuck behind the words & letters...
of this Song to the Open Road

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

But look at the stars

| | | |

And look at the bars

|A|n|d| |re|a|l|i|z|e| |t|h|e| |j|a|i|l|e|r| |i|s| |y|o|u|

Listening to Madeleine Peyrou's version of Between the Bars. Orion is having a good time laughing at my antics. Me? I am just ******* around with semantics while riffing on the Jailer's Daughter. Peace begins with empathy.

#antics #semantics #orion #peyrou #jailer #riffing #empathy #whitman