"stringencies" poems
Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.
God's lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! -- The furrow
Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks ----
Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.
Something else
Hauls me through air ----
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.
White
Godiva, I unpeel ----
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child's cry
Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
16.6k
Imagine that the summer’s stringencies
Have found themselves alone
In a garden, so full of bone
Petunias and bone pansies
That the Omphalos stone, full
Of captive water, full
Of bio-mass, with its
Subterranean flow—exhibits ,
In lieu of flowers—cannot pretend
To be our final fortune’s final end.
Suppose instead the garden is an egg,
Its shell, the sky about to beg
Release from all this heat, a tuft of X,
My friend, a silence, salient, stolen, so complex.
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 7:19 AM UTC
air pours alive in stringencies,
fall of tor and expanse.
mazy-eyed,
casts a syncopated hook
amongst tulips beheaded
by the toppling of a leaf
bracing for departures,
something else holds back,
furrow—
the thatched morning's serious mien,
the arrow, whirling in trajectories
one with the dive into red cauldron
of infinite scar of water,
Śiva, sighted footfall of the condor's
verdigris, this simple rustle
of your scourge-gowns
insists cadence of flutings;
i am one with beginnings.
swarming poultice of the inflamed grass,
obscene lines of shore in twilight
unfazed virulence spreads
like an epidemic of kisses against the
pulsing loam, cries like breakwater
lorn the fault of men, death at one's
trembling hand — sound the tribulation
of slender bells to a gather of pallors.
it is a stopping in-placeness
like crests of ******* a beautiful woman,
shiftless weight of light on glazed collarbone, Śiva, the enigmatical paradox
beleaguers a concatenation of
unloose chandeliers of appurtenances,
the unblinking aperture, widening in sky.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
this unruly night
is macadamized on the wall,
whit its bare-knuckled steel mangled
to a ferruginous glaze of rust.
the dismal kiss of
cold on the unclenching fist of the dark
is irretrievable in the grass,
soon, glass-faces will break as my simian jaw
was once shattered by a scuffle in the twilight-bells
of recess.
it is like the night dances and in awe,
struck by some rude awakening, we sit forever
emptied of beauties.
even the flesh rouses to startle the reared relation
of calla – its hot-flush widespread of petals
thought I am given always, an intone of forgetfulness.
such pure lunges and gyrations – we all have
spaces to cross latching us in total placeness like
black hooks impinging voices to a shriek,
yet surely they go off wandering in sunsets
waning in the formless crepuscular, waiting the night
to pour stringencies,
small-breathed furies futile
like arsenic.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
You never act like a boy,
or a girl,
You act neither,
let me give you some reminders:
You walk neither,
sway your hands in ambiguity,
don’t carry with you a briefcase or a feather duster –
Talk neither,
the tone of your voice must be the interim of everything,
if it would have colors it must be colorless,
not dark navy nor shallow pink.
Think neither,
meaning you think without personality.
you don’t scatter petals prior the arguments,
nor you hide stringencies behind moon blasts –
You become neither –
you call no one man, nor woman woman,
you call every one neither –
So smile neither,
meaning you don’t smirk,
or coyly carve a canopy on your face,
it’s offending.
You don’t want to offend anyone, do you?
Neither do I.
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 9:40 AM UTC