"stabile" poems
Tra-la-la-la-la-la-laire—nil nisi divinum stabile
est; caetera fumus—the gondola stopped, the old
palace was there, how charming its grey and pink—
goats and monkeys, with such hair too!—so the
countess passed on until she came through the
little park, where Niobe presented her with a
cabinet, and so departed.
Burbank crossed a little bridge
Descending at a small hotel;
Princess Volupine arrived,
They were together, and he fell.
Defunctive music under sea
Passed seaward with the passing bell
Slowly: the God Hercules
Had left him, that had loved him well.
The horses, under the axletree
Beat up the dawn from Istria
With even feet. Her shuttered barge
Burned on the water all the day.
But this or such was Bleistein’s way:
A saggy bending of the knees
And elbows, with the palms turned out,
Chicago Semite Viennese.
A lustreless protrusive eye
Stares from the protozoic slime
At a perspective of Canaletto.
The smoky candle end of time
Declines. On the Rialto once.
The rats are underneath the piles.
The jew is underneath the lot.
Money in furs. The boatman smiles,
Princess Volupine extends
A meagre, blue-nailed, phthisic hand
To climb the waterstair. Lights, lights,
She entertains Sir Ferdinand
Klein. Who clipped the lion’s wings
And flea’d his **** and pared his claws?
Thought Burbank, meditating on
Time’s ruins, and the seven laws.
3.2k
In the air, floating just next to the window
solidly constructed
as sure as the golden highway
stretching from Frisco across the Bay
looking square
as the acres of boxcars
north on the interstate
on the south side of Chicago,
it's all atoms...
This morning my son postulated to me a so-far unrealized condition
relating to matter transmitters and, probably, hyperspace. "What
would happen, " he asked, "if some guy transported himself inside a big rock?"
Indeed.
Putting on my ears, I considered the situation. Would the hypothetical solid mass of rock give way, shudder just enough to allow the insertion of a soft, squishy human being? Or would the spaces in their respective atoms--rock's and human's--intermesh neatly with each other? Molecular integration? But such a challenge to the atomic bonds holding the things together might result in a nasty atomic accident. Would that leave a human-shaped void inside the solid rock, a mold exact down to the finest details of skin texture and even eyelashes? Imagine the crystal-filled waters seeping down to find such a hole--Behold!! Geode Man.
Holding my silver pen extended
like a rapier before me,
I dissect the wispy chunks
of smoke. The balance of air
that gave them form
is destroyed. They are
no more.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
THE CALDER TREE
( for Connie )
The tree stands
naked
against a sunset
leafless.
She cries for the tree's
lost leaves.
I tuck her into bed
promise to make her
a tree
a la Calder.
Dawn sees the tree
adorned
in mobiles...wind chimes
where leaves should be.
The tree sings
the morning.
Mobiles sings the day
that is
to be.
The Calder tree
orchestrates this Thursday.
Birds are
our choir.
She stands under
understands
the moment
as it
sings.
She the one "stabile"
beneath the cascade
of wind chimes & mobiles
that the morning plays.
The tree
forever planted
in her mind
now
all of her
outstretched
as she listens to
Time singing.
***
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 2:49 AM UTC
jeg synes, jeg er den mest inspirerende person i verden. jeg kan alt muligt. jeg kan tegne, jeg kan skrive, jeg kan læse mine egne tanker, ikke altid fejlfrit, men mine følelser får jeg i hvert fald nogenlunde forstået, og jeg ved, hvem jeg kan lide og hvad jeg kan lide og hvem jeg var. jeg synes, mine følelser for hende der jeg på en måde elsker (det er i hvert fald det, jeg har læst mig frem til) er mere interessante end hende, det synes alle andre også, det ved jeg, det synes jeg er fornuftigt at synes, og jeg er fornuftigere end dem. jeg har god musiksmag og god tøjstil, og de fleste er dummere end jeg. nogle gange ønsker jeg, at de ikke ville være så dumme og uforstående og stabile, og nogle gange har jeg ondt af dem, fordi de ikke inspirerer mig, med mindre jeg tænker noget om dem. men så skifter jeg mening igen, jeg skifter mening, fordi jeg er glad for at jeg er sindsforstyrret og kan læse tanker og se mig ud af alting og rive mit ansigt fra hinanden og skabe kunst af de hjerneceller, der
ryger med ud.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
Mobile/Stabile - I don’t speak French
Main two types of mainly 3D artist
Alexander “sandy” Calder
Mobile - is a French pun meaning both "motion" and "motive"
If you had one of these above your crib to muse over as you drifted to dreamland, you have Sandy to thank.
Stabile- following the style of the name mobile, is a sculpture that is unmovable
Both are French words I have trouble saying
I am becoming or was becoming paralyzed from my feet up
(they still haven’t decided which,
feel free to laugh at that)
Feel free to laugh at all of it, I do
I have complications from unbeknownst year long scarlet fever that turned into rheumatic fever that turned into julian Barre to thank for that.
There is no cure, so I’m using condescension.
I call it Julian Barre because “Gee YAWN BERET” is just so **** hard to eek out.
And
It requires more pomp than it deserves
Okay it’s part condescension and part more French words I can’t quite say.
It’s sort of like the opposite of when I try to say “petit” pwessON” to be cute, I mean to say Little Fish to address my partner:
But instead say “petit pwazOne” which means
little Poison
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 5:19 PM UTC
and in the 12th my teacher grade tenderly grabbed my wrist
and said
what is this
and
I said
me
But
that was the wrong answer
he wanted me to say
my —-wrist
he wanted me to say my
MINE
He wanted me to take ownership
of my body
he wanted to acknowledge
Or
He wanted me to acknowledge
that I was
An inside
of a body
And
Not a body
He wanted
Me to think what I just
“mistakenly”
called “me” was just a vessel
To hold “me”
That is it was lent to me and would return
from whence it came
that I was barely or merely or some other kind of “erely” visiting
and
that me and mine were different when it came to body
Such a kindness and autono-motive restoration to remind a person that they are
More
That they are not their looks
or their actions
Or even potential ambulation
I know what he offered me was a kindness
I declined
I said no in my own way
If you’re wondering
What I said was “you are what you eat”
I still don’t know what I meant
If I meant
and I’ll ozymandius myself
If I claim to be more than this
I am crumbling, but I will stand tall on these broken feet
As soon as I can fix my posture
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
The elements
All encompassing
Soul of the world
Humanity's way
Air
Taking flight through the skies
The wings of freedom
Roaring and howling
Leading us forth
Earth
Safe and stabile
Humble and strong
Unyielding and unending
Our home on this world
Fire
Burning and fierce
Destructive and renewing
Passionate and uncontrollable
Civilisation and family's hearth
Water
Mysterious and cold
Untamed and dark
Life giver and life taker
The explorers and the scholars way
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC