"archipelagos" poems
Retail-hunter gatherers pick
clean processed bones, digging graves
with their shiny teeth, studious in
their reveries as they drone
past worlds dumped in the thresher;
the trucked-in fields of film-wrapped
gore splayed lustily before the managers
wound tight in Machiavellian design.
A shepherd herds his flock of
wreathed iron back to its pen, its
skeletal tangle lit in riotous gold by
swords flung from lambent eyes of
pre-dawn’s shunting chariots
Cages shunt and bobble like tugboats
chugging stoic up swimming pool lanes
of nondescript tile, cheered on by shouting
colours to float through archipelagos of
paper towel and chocolate blocks past
the vegemite diaspora, and the arctic
wastelands cased in sliding glass fields of
perfect steady storms as wraiths baked in halogen
ask silent questions of the silverbeet, while
Lana Del Ray’s voice falls like
nightshade—slutty and serene—coating
shelf stackers in a Piaf sadness as the
shelves reach their arms out for more.
The check out chick hatches
a sense of déjà vu as carrots
and biscuits drone towards her
mind berEFT of any twitching
sense of POSsibility that wised
up and flew this leering coop and
deep in her catalogue of grey folds
something stillborn and waxen is
perched on gleaming steel, reeling
out her guts like cassette tape with jerky
nightmare arms and laughing like a
banker watching ***** films, mornings
dull cerise an invocation through
auto-jaws as she bursts out to warble
with magpies in car park’s climbing fire.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
Cardinal sun rose
blooming as the
budding flower.
Buddha chants in the
chimes of birds
ethereal caught in gradual hot wind,
Darjeeling tea steam rises on tabletop my
mind is waking over Indonesian morning.
Foreign babel as hours draw even
cacophony of hurricane horns
the Denpasar traffic drumming
chorus midst markets where
radio emitting Li Zengguang
dizi dizzily prancing into the
assortments of spice and coiling fabrics
patterns potent azure and golden
royalty brass clatter caged noise
boiling *** cries the Orient!
Overgrowth spots the charring temples
in majesty and abundance cradling the narrow
Balinese streets while tropic palm
and orchid spring swells the soils.
Ardent sun sheaths eastern archipelagos,
religious offerings canvas sidewalks
incense burning in overwhelming
bouquets of efflorescence smelling
daedal tapestries within the paradise.
Sun goes on setting the jewel easing
underneath the horizon,
butterflies sway in rest
hearts on fire
the ceremonies have finished.
Thunder shrieks against the sea
torrential rain firing on villa ceilings.
My eyes set to sleep
consciousness transitioning
between two dreams.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Alabaster Archipelagos
Benevolent Beauty Beaming
Constructive Contradictive Creative Contemplations
Dante's Darling Dances Deliberating Denominatives
Effervescent Escapisms Endearingly Emerge Elusive Edens
Fantastic Flamboyant ******** Flamed Fabulous Fiery Flickerings
Gorgeous Garden Gim'memores Gaudied Garnishing Gasps
Heavenly Hues Humming Heart's Harmonies
Immortaly Impregnated Inspired Ideals
Jessamin Jargon Jacuzzi Jams
Know-how Knacking Knurls
Light-spirited Lovers
Merge Magnificent
Naked Nocturno Nights
Omnipresent Ousia Over Odeons
Palpitations Perfect Peaks Pi Paws
Quintessential Quality Quarrels Question Quarks Quietness
Rododendron's Richameters Rescued Raw Reeling Ruby Realms
Sentient Syllabic Sapfo's Splendidly Spirited Semantics
Turning Turner's Timeless Timeless Twinklings
Unified Undulatory Unsolved Unicorns
Velvety Venice Voyages
Wanton Wantings
Xsylophone Xsantiphas
Yearnin' Yuki's Yen
Zed's Zealous Zen-it-hall Zeppelins
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
It's two thousand and
sixteen -
isolation has never been so
difficult to achieve no
dropped
call no Unseen text certainly no
lost letter will do the
trick
nowadays
there is no excuse to give your motherbrotherfriend for
staying a resolute
island in the internetted
sea of archipelagos, so
overcrowded with
bridges and boats that I cannot see the water unless
unless
I make the
space
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
In the heart of your ears through splendid cities pierced with light,
the river murmurs of mad seas in lonesome rooms
of the veins in the arms of notorious daughters, oh blue waters!
i sing and the woods sing!
she stands polka dotted in a great bronze chariot
the shivering willows like an ***** of iron down the long black river
we entwine our thin arms and great conquering black eyes
the sky is hell-red where the stars are sleeping.
in the sacred woods, under the light of the horizon
the poet speaks of eternal voice organ-pipes;
I cared nothing for all the horrible spinning eyes of the ferris wheel,
clamouring birds seen as archipelagos and the eyes of panthers
nodody gives a **** about real birds like the voluptuous coyote eagle
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
Denatured barbie dolls bowling
over boys donning construction caps and
destruction maps making a highway
over natural habitats holding the
handle of cellar doors open and shouting
"dissent no more" please
implore me to bore you and
spit shine your mirror toe shoes
I know you once we met on the avenue
sector of humanity devoid of trees and
afraid of honeybees traffic tinged memories
haunting back down the street
hampered under sweaters and smelly socks wondering
how many feet beneath rocks something can escape
half baked holy water holding the cure of all curses and
worsening purple pillars of preconceived pastry dough
growing moldy head to toe finding flow
amidst garbage between sinking archipelagos
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
at first the woman sits in the man’s hand when he’s resting
if he goes to work he leaves her in a dimple on the bed sheets
she yeasts like dough
she raises
and picks all flowers all apples all grains
he comes back and sees the disaster
powerless
he sees into her belly through the tips of his fingers
she sweeps and cleans afterwards
the patch of earth they sit upon together
the man and his woman
untie the comets’ tails with their hands united
they’re a supercontinent for a moment
if they break apart unnamed oceans and archipelagos emerge
under the front of his head the front of her head and so on
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 7:46 AM UTC
You darken light
so shine bright
oxymoron's juxtapositions finding oneself in pondering situations
humor in each step , fairy lights guide the path less traveled
feeling the peace pieces fit together
jigsaws of unabridged meaning
simply seething with the intimate feeling of moonlight
hopping from idea to idea to thought to thought
love's boundaries are naught and love's hugs are many
loves kisses flow plentiful
indigo rivers on far off archipelagos snake into brown rivers flows mixing merging
the same happens in the soul
culminations and starters
Pudding just a little while after
A lot around , a lot within , a lot in addition to the whimsical nature of life's flight of fancy
floating feather drops.
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
I hear you had an affinity to ink.
As I did
to whatever laid below
the creaky kitchen sink.
The first words
filled with the highest crescendos,
the blurriest jokes,
and an indifference
that connected archipelagos.
Your open pastures came sooner than fit
and all the cows were shocked by it.
The foundations your tendons
helped meticulously construct
were but a marvelous crack
in his narrow-minded speck of dust.
(And how it pained me every day to see the rust.)
But there was always a chrome polish
waiting patiently where you least expected.
And the kindling revealed your shine.
And your sentences naturally rhymed.
Your shores,
full of plastic bags and
oil-stained rags
had found miles of red rubies.
I would freeze for her infinite summer,
but I stand here motionless-
oozing self-doubt
miles away from her.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
*Each time you lower
The kisses of life,
You buoy all azure
That there is—
Frantic oceans,
Berries, roses,
Temperamental waters—
Ceaseless savages raptured
Into hissed fragile vapors
Loosing all memory
Of aquatic salt,
Of sad currents,
Of mischievous chlorine,
Looping all ancient time
Accumulated
Into unified forever.
Nothing is as majestic
As the great grand blue-ling
Looted of soul, soul, souls,
It willingly divides, other
Than this, than an epic budding
Of fated love.
There’s nothing as majestic
As we fearfully are.
The torrid torrent
Of quickening
You breathed for me
Has galloped as a white mare
In all lifetimes, salvaging
Our spirits altogether
From the fickle surfs
Of the seas.
Dear, we are puzzling
Archipelagos,
And you submerged us
To a deeper sky
Of Love.*
© 2015 J.S.P.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
i see him straightening the
ruffle of his native clothing,
putting words of truth
inside the empty parentheses
of mendacities -
it is through his leonine eyes
that i see the pointlessness
of men. through the
TV's hoarse static i can hear
his voice occupy the space
of obligation without swerving
to paths made available for ease
without clear trudge.
sir, you make it painless
to conceive these cutting truths -
death trembles in these taut attestations. in half-lighted periphery i can see the shadows
threatening to cast us into damnation, and it is in the bright ray of your speech that i have started to uncover the beasts
and their diminutive language.
dark as dark these ploys could be,
now that they are whiter than
ever with their transparencies,
you have handed these people
flames to torch effigies
and use their glare to light
the intransigent paths
to this nation's true calling!
spare us from the debaucher
of this once sacred land, the contortionists of these ill fates.
and preserve our just tillage
over these archipelagos!
save us from the vertigo of these
mangled, twisting roads!
give our speech obdurate
magnitude so we can hammer down
the lies thrown at us and cast them away together with their wretched demagogues!
let us once more, be brave
to withstand the eye of storms
and emerge wizened like
trees in the summer of
our old, resplendent memories
where everything is
and nothing
is speaking loosely
of something far from our hands
to hold, like
prosperity,
or effulgence - altogether!
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
She couldn't explain, how---
after the vast crawl
through the
Arctic tunnel -
at one point too dark
to even
cry mercy--
how, suddenly,
moonbeams emanate
upon the ceiling of ice
"Drop the ropes!"
she calls back
and the ice pick echo stops
Her team's eyes lifted above
candles snuffed
flashlights out
for along the glistening rock
a colorburst of illumination
ancient dancing patterns
flickering archipelagos
and she cannot understand
why all eyes
are suddenly on her…
just pregnant silence
without explanation
She only knows
That there is
a coolness
in her solar plexus
where heat once burned
when a private sort of hell
used to flicker and churn
Tendrils of light
reach out
"It's ..me" she says, astounded
For she had just been pulled
from the jet-darked skies…
as the dusk
gets electricified..
and now
she floats
like a dance floor goddess
lost in
rhythmic paradise
whose switch for joy
has been flicked
to ON
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
i've never seen such
astounding things
a discovery made
on a passage within
i recall sleeping
in celestial cots
made up of cygnus,
pavo,
the enticing lot
green velvet curtains drawn
block out the sun
although the windows are no more than
one
surrounded
by ivies, scripture
and platinum-tipped
pens
the era of thought
all within my
mind...
i awaken from slumber to quite different sights
the very same forces that prevail in this place,
the forces above
alluding, brooding
the thief comes too smug,
wind thrashes the sails
a cynical offering,
all grief to repent,
the season of starving,
the season of lent
isn't it odd how the winds never billow?
over the strangest utopian lands
the islands of women with no trace of men
the archipelagos of shellfish on land
and that one place due north...
beyond arctic bird coves
where wisps of the sky
grace plat-inum snow
the things that you see when it's dark on the ocean
four sailors drunken on laughter and autumn-rum
down though the seabed
the lowest of shores
the music through rafters,
flutes clamor and roar...
torn and burdened is the world,
but brokenness never equated unworth
the land once which was
trodden,
the seas overcame
i nod off to sleep
just to shake off the pain
the forces come crashing,
formed over the bluff
indifferently shouting,
unrighteously tough
here from my balcony
on french-spanish estate
once indifferent forces,
concluding in rain.
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 4:05 PM UTC
Attempting to save myself
In this vast, scouring island
Mainland and archipelagos,
There must be room for me
On any continent
Foreign tongue, smooth and rolling
Startling realities, alters festering
With those candles lit and eyelashes picked
Dreams and wishes laid down to rest and die
But no worries, I’ll save myself
I have a paddle and boat
Sometimes the bitter dark waters surface,
And horizons gloom and tragedy thunders,
But either way I’ll survive
And circumnavigate the globe
Meeting others with paddles of their own
Searching for new horizons
A familiar shape of mountain range
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
I've seldom been inhabited
I'm an isolated shelter
Looking at the archipelagos
Oh, these islands are so dull
Where is my sanctuary?
As I wait for a shoreline
I find you in the distance
The sun gleams on you
So it's not that hard
To find your small land.
Then it dawns on me
I can't move toward you
Because I am an island
And so are you
How can I be yours
When all we share is distance?
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
The ancient Pacific
Bellows.
Engenders.
Wind streamed waves.
Liquid Silver.
Whip and sidle.
Time eternal.
Man,
Too,
Bellows.
Engenders...
The Ocean...
Plundered.
Cod to gold.
Brazen and bold.
Pirate treasure.
***** Whale oil.
The best and worst ~
Of wild nature.
Give or Take
Thriving or Surviving.
Life or death.
Which came first?
Strings of Kelp or Nets of String?
Swordfish or Harpoons?
Archipelagos or Man Marooned
Nature or humanity?
The vessel or the sea?
The Humpback or the oil lamp?
Happiness or Sorrow?
Yesterday or Tomorrow?
A Moment in time.
Time eternal.
All of history.
Standing still.
Man and ocean co-exist.
Nessie.
Loch Ness.
Survival of the Fittest.
Paradise.
Revolution.
Theory of Evolution.
Why do Whales sing?
Why do Octopus need ink?
Why do Dolphins Echolocate?
To communicate.
Does the ocean know?
Mass larceny of the Hydroscape.
The ocean *****
Orcas in Captivity.
Global warming.
Pollution.
Sea levels rise.
Why does the deep blue oblige?
Solve the equation.
The mystery of the sea.
The ocean dies.
Like the coelacanth.
To pass extinct.
When I do the math.
In this wise ~
I theorize.
The deep unknown.
Understands.
Thus,
Perhaps.
Waves and tides ~
Do not recede in undertow.
No!
Waves and tides push forth to shore ~
Desperate to escape.
Man's impact on the sea.
To go extinct.
Like the Coelacanth.
To live again.
When
Man succumbs to...
Natural Selection.
Nature's revolution.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
Here, the Orkney Islands are wracked by unstoppable winds
like all small archipelagos, at the mercy of great sea distances
unbroken natural forces vast in their cumulative strengths.
But that is the holidaymaker, tourist, toe in the water folk
who come and go, come and go, to experience and send home postcards
bemoaning the wind , if only they knew the Islands true heart
like us resident Orcadians, new, and old, they would forget the wind as the wind often will not blow, and stay until their bones are buried with the forgetting of the outside World.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 3:18 PM UTC
Staring out of my cell window,
bright blue sky,
with a archipelagos of clouds.
A noose hangs above me.
Inhale.
The air is crisp,
tasting better than,
any meal I've ever had.
Exhale.
I slip my head in,
the grip is tight,
like a cobra's grip.
Slowly losing consciousness.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
MOTECUHZOMA
If, past this moment, you persist in lies,
Know I shall bury you beneath my halls,
Pull down your house till sludge seeps through the planks,
And wipe your family name from off the earth,
Yea, to the unborn fragments in the womb.
Now, wouldn’t you recant this little fib?
FISHERMAN
Forgive me lord, but what I tell is truth.
TLACAELEL
Most like it is.
MOTECUHZOMA Then know, you brave, bold slave,
These spectral archipelagos you saw,
Were giantlike canoes, with alien crew.
He gestures to a servant, who produces a trunk.
One year ago, the waves cast up this trunk
Of jewels, foreign frocks, and silver swords:
Most like, the precious jetsam of this launch.
FISHERMAN
May my aviso aid your eminence.
MOTECUHZOMA
One see him nobly boarded in our suites.
Exit Servant with the Fisherman.
Enter a Majordomo.
TLACAELEL
Well, watch, where are your hocus-pocus wards?
MAJORDOMO My lord, command that I be cut to pieces or whatever you wish, for you should know that when I reached the cell, there was no one there. I had my best sentries there, trustworthy men I’ve known for years, but none of them heard the sorcerers escape.
TLACAELEL
Then how, pray tell me, have they flown the coop?
MAJORDOMO
Perhaps they flapped away.
TLACAELEL What, gallows-meat?
MAJORDOMO They can sprinkle themselves with fern-spores, and
shimmer into invisibility.
TLACAELEL
Buzz, buzz! These twice-told tales upend my trust.
Rope’s end-
MOTECUHZOMA No. Suffer him.
TLACAELEL As you see fit.
MOTECUHZOMA
Some say such wizards take wing every night,
And soar unto the fringes of the earth.
TLACAELEL
His majesty’s broad magnanimity
Has spared you this time, turnkey, but repair.
Not all wards will be such skilled hide-and-seeks.
MOTECUHZOMA
Now: Torch the hovels of their families,
And witness if those new lighthouses’ beacons
Will call their wandering rooks home to re-roost.
Exit Majordomo.
TLACAELEL
And what of these vast dugouts?
MOTECUHZOMA Time will tell.
Our steward Teuhtlilli eastward creeps,
To see what tricks are offered from the deeps. They exit.
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
What use was this creation,
If it delivered boastful, vain, narcissism and loveless, black depression?
If it is directing decision making from biological, human intelligence to unemotional, artificial intelligence?
If it is drowning azure, Polynesian islands and raising polymeric, garbage archipelagos?
If Amazon is no more a forest of lush, stunning biodiversity
but a world wide jungle of objects to be consumed?
If “this piece of work, man”, “the quintessence of dust”, is
the CREATOR of utter, hydrogen destruction, capable of annihilating any form of life seven times in a row?
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 5:22 AM UTC