"synoptic" poems
We live our lives
In past review,
Sometimes we get
A snap preview;
It's what we call
Deja Vu.
Our synoptic
Brain ignites,
Fuel injected,
Bathing grey matter;
Hurling perception
Through time;
Faster than a blink of light,
No more than a nano,
To immediate present.
Then brain relapses,
Returns to stasis,
We're in the past again.
Same peoples,
Same places,
But I was here,
Before.
Never left, now
Back once more.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
The rebar skeleton of a hymn
Celestial rust sifting in
Skin and its architecture
Oh, the tectonics of Sin
Thrush lashed to husks
Lungs dipped with resin
Wine with gall, the Synoptic gospels
Recolored lithographs and
Rhymes of tinsel cord
Lost palaces of Tangiers
The Late Cretaceous fossils
Vibrate with fear.
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC
In staggered stages voices pass
So many faces I have known
Into the abyss memories wane
Falling through the flashbacks
Of our souls...
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
I have two brains inside my head,
Sharing thoughts in synoptic threads;
Sifting what's been heard or read;
Random, weird, or rational doubts,
They get crowded, some fall out.
Like mustard seeds some fall near stones,
And wither away before full grown;
Un-liked, un-loved, barely a hit,
Not to pass our reader's lips.
*Have I sown more ********
Some scatter near the thorny bush,
The root is strong, but growth gets crushed;
It seems I can't discriminate
What readers like and what they hate.
I need re-evaluate: Am I writing for writing's sake?
Some thoughts find richness firmly grounded,
The how and why leaves me confounded;
But the ideas blossom, some are priceless,
A palate treat with figurative spices.
Now, this is more to my reader's liking.
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
Cruising the site and the page
words laid out, perfectly played
Some dealing in pain, hate, or rage
others with love, loss, or simple type cliche
Synoptic renditions placed on display
demons that are released, in no other way
Exquisite debacles in perfect panoply
territorial pieces, lobbing live grenades
Eloquent art, grasping the bars of a cage
screaming in unison, far ahead of their age
Each a great, better performance
as all the world, a stage
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
Said History to Heidegger
If Being is forgotten,
How can one, then, of mortal men
Remember what one oughtn't?
Have you perchance been given stance
Above the West's traditions,
That you may given synoptic gaze
To Being's sad condition?
Vain Aryan omniscience!
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC