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"bosch" poems
they’re pouring out of the woodwork those pretentious machiavellians in ailing albino frames eccentric masked figures milling about the glow light like night moths in a london fog lunatic gazers with seeping moles pinned by frogmen and twine spider climbers in hell fire splitting seams on the fading and hideous ink guards of the perch stand on hades hand while monsters and demons with severed limbs taunt the condemned and wanting souls of the ****** cauldron fire in blood red sky silent screams hack and wheeze gas lines broken words unspoken teetering backwards in the dark shadows of a phantom abyss
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Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC
the eye of hieronymus bosch
So I am watching the Washing Machine, rolling over itself; having our clothes cleaned. And Maybe I floss to often though maybe thats not possible such a task is too common and love is just *** and so I make it the objective as the object I object. as Justice and whatever "just is" is Just us and there are other parts to continuing that we forgot. since if you move too far ahead of your competition you forget the reason why you run and you end up as flint or lint missing, the fire or the match scratch that, scratch that, scratch that, especially the match but be fluent in burning the resources and not the bridge. -keeping everything grainy and fibrous- - you are are healthily expanding- so if you're too nervous of being judged you might as well not show up. so instead I am watching the washing machine.
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
Hieronymus Bosch- the Washing Machine-
In twilight sleep, thoughts out of control, images take hold. Viewed against  the canvass of blackness, dead people dance with succubi an incubuses. Tiny gymnasts balance on sharp edged swords in le cirque du soleil under a moonless sky. Grimm’s tales of baked children and hungry wolves play out. On a runway starving women show the latest fashions in cardinal red. The Grinch stole my  green silk  Balenciaga gown. Gave it to the frog  prince. Sleeping beauty is just a ****** She had too much of all of it. Hermes glass slippers are sold Only too few and deserving  Cinderellas, trophy wives of  mummified kings. What they really deserve is not on the menu. Just le plat du jour of ortolans. The three pigs are out of breath, Not enough air for a blow job. Rose colored glasses take on a nasty hue of watered down blood. Bottle green is not la couleur du jour, rather that bile color with a tint of pus yellow. There is a storm brewing, A tsunami rising, the earth shakes, Volcano red lava licks down the mountain. Destiny? Fate? Apocalypse? A voice whispers: put up a shield, a bright canvass. Paint with bold rounded strokes in earthen tones.  Mold  vessels to hold the morning dew. Catch rays of sun in a glass glockenspiel. Hum the world, sing life. Touch, feel, be alive. A ray of sun sneaks through the blinds. Dust dances in a shaft of light. I am safe, for another day.
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Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC
HIERONYMUS BOSCH 2012 ( or the effect of a doppio espresso after dinner.)
Amidst created worries, troubles and troubles, as if I were falling into a gaping abyss, half-balancing on the edge of animals, hyena-scavengers, like a shaky-legged, slightly hesitant, underestimated tightrope walker, - I can deliberately hold on or not in the draft of depravity. In the purgatory of an endless rail, as if I were one of those Bosch could have painted in his lifetime; a gathering of hell-shaped soul-shadow visions ready to rage. It would be nice to hide back at least sometimes in some strange, sprawling Hawaiian wilderness, where crystal-clear, raw-visceral emotions can also manifest themselves more emphatically, more faithfully to themselves. A middle-aged rose withers and withers in the filth of big cities, because there was no one left to console her instead of her selfish strawman-peddler husband; because even hook-nosed prophets fall for whales, after devouring even the smallest tadpole embryos. Forever chained as mere passengers in spiral circles, because that is how people are now, intentionally tied to the work methods of unbearable, unfulfillable working hours, petty-gallant deadlines. Because now it seems that washerwomen and hostess models are once again selling their commodity love for tinkling silver coins, until another incomprehensible, twisted property division lawsuit comes; "Daddy and Mommy really love you children! You just know that Mommy and Daddy can't stand each other anymore!" They would rather drown each other in a spoonful of water, if they could do that!" - Thus, the slow, conscious disillusionment can still remain. Among the calculated, manipulative genres of attempts and cheap escapes, there is certainly no one left who would actually understand their job and act as their heart commands?! - A casual party queen or a diva imitating luxury is handing out slaps with stamps stuck on guest masks.
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Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 12:40 AM UTC
PURGATORY OF ENDLESS DEPTHS
Amidst created worries, troubles and troubles, as if I were falling into a gaping abyss, half-balancing on the edge of animals, hyena-scavengers, like a shaky-legged, slightly hesitant, underestimated tightrope walker, - I can deliberately hold on or not in the draft of depravity. In the purgatory of an endless rail, as if I were one of those Bosch could have painted in his lifetime; a gathering of hell-shaped soul-shadow visions ready to rage. It would be nice to hide back at least sometimes in some strange, sprawling Hawaiian wilderness, where crystal-clear, raw-visceral emotions can also manifest themselves more emphatically, more faithfully to themselves. A middle-aged rose withers and withers in the filth of big cities, because there was no one left to console her instead of her selfish strawman-peddler husband; because even hook-nosed prophets fall for whales, after devouring even the smallest tadpole embryos. Forever chained as mere passengers in spiral circles, because that is how people are now, intentionally tied to the work methods of unbearable, unfulfillable working hours, petty-gallant deadlines. Because now it seems that washerwomen and hostess models are once again selling their commodity love for tinkling silver coins, until another incomprehensible, twisted property division lawsuit comes; "Daddy and Mommy really love you children! You just know that Mommy and Daddy can't stand each other anymore!" They would rather drown each other in a spoonful of water, if they could do that!" - Thus, the slow, conscious disillusionment can still remain. Among the calculated, manipulative genres of attempts and cheap escapes, there is certainly no one left who would actually understand their job and act as their heart commands?! - A casual party queen or a diva imitating luxury is handing out slaps with stamps stuck on guest masks.
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4
While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers The black tar envelops my unmanly sigh A cigarette in the moon's light with a stranger And the howling of an unsightly beast While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers The fog obscures everything in sight I'm questioning the night sky on its numbers The forest looks in disgust and curiosity While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers I'm bleeding out, I'm bleeding out While plucking feathers, my ear drum pops I say my goodbye and flap my bare wings An ornate door leads to the mausoleum A huge crack showing the entrance of grave robbers The youths wander inside to belittle their ancestors And my ballad softly floats above the ground While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers The young man rests near his anvil Opening his book of poetry on an empty page Only to find the blood of the martyr seeping While plucking my feathers Will the youth remember my name? Will I be forgotten as a nameless man? Or will I be the poet of the next century? Pluck my feathers or don't! Pluck my feathers or don't! Pluck my feathers or don't! But do not forget me and the steps which I took Do not forget my babbling, my bish and my bosch Do not forget my gifts, you, receiver of blessing Pluck them rhythmically, slave, rhythmically My feather falls, slowly to the ground It is the last of its kind And as my breaths draw to a close The children laugh gleefully Unknowing the end is near Extinction on my name once and for all Pluck my feathers no more, slave, I've just blood to give.
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Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC
Swan Song
While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers The black tar envelops my unmanly sigh A cigarette in the moon's light with a stranger And the howling of an unsightly beast While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers The fog obscures everything in sight I'm questioning the night sky on its numbers The forest looks in disgust and curiosity While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers I'm bleeding out, I'm bleeding out While plucking feathers, my ear drum pops I say my goodbye and flap my bare wings An ornate door leads to the mausoleum A huge crack showing the entrance of grave robbers The youths wander inside to belittle their ancestors And my ballad softly floats above the ground While plucking feathers, while plucking feathers The young man rests near his anvil Opening his book of poetry on an empty page Only to find the blood of the martyr seeping While plucking my feathers Will the youth remember my name? Will I be forgotten as a nameless man? Or will I be the poet of the next century? Pluck my feathers or don't! Pluck my feathers or don't! Pluck my feathers or don't! But do not forget me and the steps which I took Do not forget my babbling, my bish and my bosch Do not forget my gifts, you, receiver of blessing Pluck them rhythmically, slave, rhythmically My feather falls, slowly to the ground It is the last of its kind And as my breaths draw to a close The children laugh gleefully Unknowing the end is near Extinction on my name once and for all Pluck my feathers no more, slave, I've just blood to give.
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39
Bosch is not like any man. He eats his metaphysics raw. Great and globular, A sanguine fruit looms forth infinitely. Stars, like gleaming berries picked, Lay strewn across his astral dining set. He breaks bread with the Abstract Entities, Devouring the Earth and all its mortal sentiments. He voices his distaste for the fibrous pulp, Formless nose scrunched and curled With loathing at the terrestrial filaments Stuck between his teeth. Bosch's belly is an endless hollow Where darkness swallows light. There is no air, no sound. Its abysmal blackness knows no bounds. His hunger insatiable, He drinks in the Milky Way, Eager to fill the emptiness Of his ever-expanding void.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC
Bosch
A medida que nos aproximamos las piedras se van dando mejor. Desnudo, anacorético, las ventanas idénticas entre sí, como la vida de sus monjes, el Escorial levanta sus muros de granito por los que no treparán nunca los mandingas, pues ni aún dentro de novecientos años. hallarán una arruga donde hincar sus pezuñas de azufre y pedernal. Paradas en lo alto de las chimeneas, las cigüeñas meditan la responsabilidad de ser la única ornamentación del monasterio, mientras el viento que reza en las rendijas ahuyenta las tentaciones que amenazan entrar por el tejado. Cencerro de las piedras que pastan en los alrededores, las campanas de la iglesia espantan a los ángeles que viven en su torre y suelen tomarlos de improviso, haciéndoles perder alguna pluma sobre el adoquinado de los patios. ¡Corredores donde el silencio tonifica la robustez de las columnas! ¡Salas donde la austeridad es tan grande, que basta una sonrisa de mujer para que nos asedien los pecados de Bosch y sólo se desbanden en retirada al advertir que nuestro guía es nuestro propio arcángel, que se ha disfrazado de guardián! Los visitantes, la cabeza hundida entre los hombros (así la Muerte no los podrá agarrar como se agarra a un gato), descienden a las tumbas y al pudridero, y al salir, perciben el esqueleto de la gente con la misma facilidad con que antes les distinguían la nariz. Cuando una luna fantasmal nieva su luz en las techumbres, los ruidos de las inmediaciones adquieren psicologías criminales, y el silencio alcanza tal intensidad, que se camina como si se entrara en un concierto, y se contienen las ganas de toser por temor a que el eco repita nuestra tos hasta convencernos de que estamos tuberculosos. ¡Horas en que los perros se enloquecen de soledad y en las que el miedo hace girar las cabezas de las lechuzas y de los hombres, quienes, al enfrentarnos, se persignan bajo el embozo por si nosotros fuéramos Satán!
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1.3k
Escorial
A medida que nos aproximamos las piedras se van dando mejor. Desnudo, anacorético, las ventanas idénticas entre sí, como la vida de sus monjes, el Escorial levanta sus muros de granito por los que no treparán nunca los mandingas, pues ni aún dentro de novecientos años. hallarán una arruga donde hincar sus pezuñas de azufre y pedernal. Paradas en lo alto de las chimeneas, las cigüeñas meditan la responsabilidad de ser la única ornamentación del monasterio, mientras el viento que reza en las rendijas ahuyenta las tentaciones que amenazan entrar por el tejado. Cencerro de las piedras que pastan en los alrededores, las campanas de la iglesia espantan a los ángeles que viven en su torre y suelen tomarlos de improviso, haciéndoles perder alguna pluma sobre el adoquinado de los patios. ¡Corredores donde el silencio tonifica la robustez de las columnas! ¡Salas donde la austeridad es tan grande, que basta una sonrisa de mujer para que nos asedien los pecados de Bosch y sólo se desbanden en retirada al advertir que nuestro guía es nuestro propio arcángel, que se ha disfrazado de guardián! Los visitantes, la cabeza hundida entre los hombros (así la Muerte no los podrá agarrar como se agarra a un gato), descienden a las tumbas y al pudridero, y al salir, perciben el esqueleto de la gente con la misma facilidad con que antes les distinguían la nariz. Cuando una luna fantasmal nieva su luz en las techumbres, los ruidos de las inmediaciones adquieren psicologías criminales, y el silencio alcanza tal intensidad, que se camina como si se entrara en un concierto, y se contienen las ganas de toser por temor a que el eco repita nuestra tos hasta convencernos de que estamos tuberculosos. ¡Horas en que los perros se enloquecen de soledad y en las que el miedo hace girar las cabezas de las lechuzas y de los hombres, quienes, al enfrentarnos, se persignan bajo el embozo por si nosotros fuéramos Satán!
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59
*Do you like art? Does Renoir sit in a frame above your bed? Are you alone? What does this painting look like to you? I use dots to portray events in my life as described by others. Van Gogh never cut his ear off. Georgia O’Keeffe loved painting vaginas, and so do I. Want to be a model in my next work? I met Bosch at Starbucks a few years back. This took me twenty-two hours to paint. Buy this, buy that. Andy Warhol is my dad.*
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Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Andy Warhol is my Dad
You'd think Blake, Bosch & Emanuel Swedenborg read Pythagoras in the original & walked with Christ & Newton; E. A. Poe, the Horror-Poet; influencing the Decadence of Baudelaire, Wilde & Rimbaud;                   Pinkham Ryder's influence on Symbolism & Surrealism led, oddly, to 20th century pop culture depictions of Victorian monsters; Frankenstein was the product of the English Romantics; German Romanticism to Sturm & Drang led to Expressionism. Beardsley [dead at 25], Gustave Moreau, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Egon Schiele [dead at 28]; ||| - -| Klimt, Freud, Jung: Judaism; Id, Superego, Ego, Shadow, Anima & Animus, collective psyche, Nietzsche's Superman, eternal recurrence & will to power; Wagner's Ring Cycle...
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Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 1:56 PM UTC
Victorian Monsters of Pop Culture
though strictly Fermi, and oh...(en Rico) plus sun dre other parvenues, a rapture surges thru me, when audibly communicating, enunciating, and speaking English words as if hi ken run a marathon, or zip to the moon, (take as cheesy tong in cheek) from this pun gent, who relishes reading for my eyes and ears asper myself, which purported nun sense ink reese sees learn'n den earn an award, especially wash'n black board den breathing intelligent dust from eraser head could awk cord, I utter Hieronymus Bosch, bing enamored, and aye actually confess tubby a model United Nations chimp pan zee, and/or other type of survey monkey hook can huff ford Old Rotten Gotham horde sliding down into the behavioral sink... exclaiming "oh me jack lord" and getting rescued then getting less on, sans get'n taut how (muss elf George Eliot) tubby comb moored flossed, milled, and taut tubby trained for Operation Ready Date by a coop pull oof oot standing chap, named Adam West, who poured salty epithets (reminding me, as they roared that life iz brutal, short and nasty), part tickly ne'r the end wharf hew scored and majority got de toured until emotionally, physically, and spiritually enlightened By Rabindranath Tagore and Burt Ward.
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Rapture When Reading Aloud
She never once asked why I keep the twisted rosewood stick or if it holds significance. Or why Flann O'Brien's "At swim two birds." has a place by itself on the shelf. She never understood my love of jazz, metal or classical music or wondered why Hieronymus Bosch and Caravaggio prints are in the hall. She once said I should get rid of them all "They don't match the décor." She never understood the humour of Leonard Cohen, nor appreciate the raw beauty of a Bukowski poem; claimed they were just ***** old men. She couldn't fathom why I am drawn to decrepit ruins or could spend hours just walking without a destination. She never will comprehend my love for the ghostly hue of twilight.
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
She never asked
i’ve blown all my dosh on a brand new Bosch! my clothes will be super clean with this amazing new machine i’ve burnt all my dosh singing swish, swash, swosh, singing splish, splash, splosh, a ladies got to wash! i’m in love with my new Bosch!
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Oct 12, 2023
Oct 12, 2023 at 4:07 PM UTC
the bosch
The Dufus Oompaloompa in Chief Is nothing but a high-level thief. He constantly lies and all he tries Is a rich man’s version of relief. He’s another rich guy on welfare. He uses every ***** trick he can use You see his crooked face everywhere; He keeps his ugly mug in the news. His morality is virtually nonexistent He’s never been a commendable fellow. And because he is truth-resistant He’s a braggart, a liar and he’s yellow. His life has been a study in selfishness, He’s been a ******* a predator and crook. His biography is an unreal literary mess. As he has never liked going by the book. Listening to him speak you can see He is lying with almost every word. He can’t interact with anyone honestly You can’t believe a single word you heard. Inside his head must be something like A painting by Bosch or Salvatore Dali Even if his head ends up on a pike He’ll still be as bright as a collie!
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May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:37 PM UTC
DUFUS OOMPALOOMPA
Hieronymus Bosch, who was only four, Had toddled right out of my life, I didn’t know whether he’d gone on his own Or left with the trouble and strife. She’d rave and she’d threaten to fly the coop As she said that my ways were strange, But whether she’d bother to take him too Would have meant a remarkable change. ‘Why did you pick such a horrible name,’ She’d say, as she ladled the stew, ‘You gave him the name of a painter insane,’ (As he baited the bears at the zoo). ‘How can he live a commonplace life With a moniker he can’t spell? You’ve sentenced your son to eternal strife Like that panel, a painting of hell.’ Hieronymus, he didn’t care about this, He wanted to picture his world, He’d flop and he’d slop in the mud, in his bliss, And paint, till his toes had curled. I knew that he’d be a surrealist when He played with his mash, and was cute, He swished it around on his palette to look Like a man with a nose like a flute. ‘That kid is so gruesome,’ the wife had exclaimed, ‘He’s set on a roadway to hell.’ He’d crayoned a picture of me and her sister Entwined on her favourite bell. ‘He isn’t like others,’ I used to exclaim, ‘He sees what he sees inside out, He doesn’t like others, like hair-splitting mothers,’ And that’s when she started to shout. I’ve searched and I’ve searched for Heironymus Bosch, I’m trying to follow his trail, The long line of beetles he captured in treacle, The dead dog that’s eating its tail. I know that he’s not with the trouble and strife For she went into hiding in Greece, He should be called Chester, the lad’s such a jester, I guess I’ll be calling the Police. David Lewis Paget
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:21 AM UTC
The Quest for Hieronymus Bosch
Hieronymus Bosch, who was only four, Had toddled right out of my life, I didn’t know whether he’d gone on his own Or left with the trouble and strife. She’d rave and she’d threaten to fly the coop As she said that my ways were strange, But whether she’d bother to take him too Would have meant a remarkable change. ‘Why did you pick such a horrible name,’ She’d say, as she ladled the stew, ‘You gave him the name of a painter insane,’ (As he baited the bears at the zoo). ‘How can he live a commonplace life With a moniker he can’t spell? You’ve sentenced your son to eternal strife Like that panel, a painting of hell.’ Hieronymus, he didn’t care about this, He wanted to picture his world, He’d flop and he’d slop in the mud, in his bliss, And paint, till his toes had curled. I knew that he’d be a surrealist when He played with his mash, and was cute, He swished it around on his palette to look Like a man with a nose like a flute. ‘That kid is so gruesome,’ the wife had exclaimed, ‘He’s set on a roadway to hell.’ He’d crayoned a picture of me and her sister Entwined on her favourite bell. ‘He isn’t like others,’ I used to exclaim, ‘He sees what he sees inside out, He doesn’t like others, like hair-splitting mothers,’ And that’s when she started to shout. I’ve searched and I’ve searched for Heironymus Bosch, I’m trying to follow his trail, The long line of beetles he captured in treacle, The dead dog that’s eating its tail. I know that he’s not with the trouble and strife For she went into hiding in Greece, He should be called Chester, the lad’s such a jester, I guess I’ll be calling the Police. David Lewis Paget
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41
Grandad seldom spoke of war or war's ways or the senseless slaughter, but when he did it was in a hushed voice, the words handled carefully, as if they like grenades could explode if handled bad or carelessly. He talked of mud and lice and cold and damp and the slow slog to the front. In hushed tones as if some secret he was unfolding, he told of sounds of shells, cries, blood and smells. Did you **** the Bosch Granddad? I asked as little boys do or may. He looked at the fire where flames tongued the coals and didn't say.
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
SELDOM SPOKE OF WAR.
shell fish unshelled alive grass cut when you have the time the spittle pouring out from a bosch painting a thin hard back on the shelf a cinema vidies with absolute teeth maths chime number by number a cat bites the last from a rat and my crazy friend thinks that she leaves a gift as she purrs by the door.
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 7:54 AM UTC
small friend
Let us remember Aristillus & Timocharis, Like Halley & Galileo. Of Zhang Heng & Dao Lee, Like Newton & Max Born. Of Werner & Yermolyeva, Like Curie & Oppenheimer. Of Paracelus & Fredrick Banting, Like Tesla & Pythagoras. Of Richard Feynman & André Ampère, Like Michael Faraday & Benjamin Franklin. Of Payne-Gaposchkin & Joseph Swan, Like Ignacy Łukasiewicz & Kikunae Ikeda. Of Takamine Jōkichi & Berners-Lee, Like Robert Hooke & Gutenberg. Of Talos Attalus & Perrilus, Like William Bullock & Franz Reichelt. Of Abū Bakr al-Rāzī & Ibn al-Haytham, Like Archimedes & Johannes Kepler. Of Aldini & Henry Russell, Like Edison & Graham Bell. Of Carl Bosch & Richard Fiedler, Like Mr. Hyde & Dr. Jekyll. Of Brokkr & Sindri, Like Gullinbursti & Hephaestus.
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Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 11:00 AM UTC
Too Many Deserving Listing
I've become a lazy reader, dismissive and curmudgeony too. Magazines or books? Not magazines-- Magazine readers are a different species. So books it is. Let me take inventory: Nonfiction. Sorry, just the occasional science book. General fiction lost the war for my attention-- Do real people really have so many feelings? So often and so detailed? So I read genre fiction. But bang, bang adventure has become tiresome-- after all how many times and ways can you shoot/stab/blow up/car chase? Likewise, there are books that seem spend pages and pages describing clothes. Even though Chaucer also spent many words describing clothes, his best lines were about bare ***** hanging out a window. All my favorite characters are now old, Harry Bosch, George Smiley. To my regret, the Wall falling and the Cold War ending almost wiped out the thoughtful spy story. Science fiction, a previous favorite, took a goofy turn awhile ago, and I’m done with it. Let's see: fantasy now seems written for teenage vampire-witch wannabes. Just flutter away. What's left? I think it's only Detective stories and Poetry. I'm pulling for Harry Bosch and Billy Collins at 90, and, God bless him, John Le Carre.
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Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 6:33 AM UTC
I've become a lazy reader....
Eggs and rice Some kids and a wife Things that are comfortable, Things that are nice Hieronymus Bosch and shrooms Explode the room Rather than ******** I prefer doom
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Two Appetites
Raking autumn leaves the color of sea stars mottled on moist ground I watch them fall spinning slowly through blue sky as if the breeze was a tide ebbing and rising the rake feels like a paintbrush collecting color muddied by mixing into a fall palette a still life with fruit pears and apples still unblemished on branch attached but mushy and vinegar smelling our big white Pyr helps herself to fallen fruit laying claim to each orb her huge paws on either side moist nose buried in the rust of the Bosch the red of the Delicious we fill a wheelbarrow of leaf draped fruit to bring below for coyotes we trap on camera motion sensed but motionless Malama the Pyr waits whining wondering if our chill morn together has ended but the leaves are piles of the fallen our task is not yet done more are gathered on tarp and dragged to garden bed to blanket wintersleep of bulb and tuber to feed in their decay the new blooms of a next spring day I have always raked far preferring the quiet metal combing through grassy tangled tufts over motored loud blower’s hum sending Moore's leaves whirling skyward but I am no longer tempted to jump in the pile gathering armfuls whose yellow color is a child's crayon sun and toss them for a second fall no longer are they bagged   in thick black plastic to wait decomposition amongst the landfill’s less pastoral refuse nor are they burned sending acrid leaf spirit smoke into the cold pale blue of October afternoon now their raking is not a ridding a discarding of what was season’s decoration soon useless brown but more of a farewell a leaving of the light an offering of what is still of use in the aged for what will be a period of cold and dark and winter's rest before the next season of green begins
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Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 8:28 PM UTC
Leaving
Raking autumn leaves the color of sea stars mottled on moist ground I watch them fall spinning slowly through blue sky as if the breeze was a tide ebbing and rising the rake feels like a paintbrush collecting color muddied by mixing into a fall palette a still life with fruit pears and apples still unblemished on branch attached but mushy and vinegar smelling our big white Pyr helps herself to fallen fruit laying claim to each orb her huge paws on either side moist nose buried in the rust of the Bosch the red of the Delicious we fill a wheelbarrow of leaf draped fruit to bring below for coyotes we trap on camera motion sensed but motionless Malama the Pyr waits whining wondering if our chill morn together has ended but the leaves are piles of the fallen our task is not yet done more are gathered on tarp and dragged to garden bed to blanket wintersleep of bulb and tuber to feed in their decay the new blooms of a next spring day I have always raked far preferring the quiet metal combing through grassy tangled tufts over motored loud blower’s hum sending Moore's leaves whirling skyward but I am no longer tempted to jump in the pile gathering armfuls whose yellow color is a child's crayon sun and toss them for a second fall no longer are they bagged   in thick black plastic to wait decomposition amongst the landfill’s less pastoral refuse nor are they burned sending acrid leaf spirit smoke into the cold pale blue of October afternoon now their raking is not a ridding a discarding of what was season’s decoration soon useless brown but more of a farewell a leaving of the light an offering of what is still of use in the aged for what will be a period of cold and dark and winter's rest before the next season of green begins
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66
What I can tell you is, it's not like a Bosch painting or Rodin's gates. You will never see flames as is commonly thought. It's more like a dense fog where you will wander around forever. You will hear unintelligible voices but if you move toward those voices, they will recede from you. Did I say, there is no furniture?
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Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC
What I Can Tell You