Archive for the ‘Pie Feet’ Category

Finish this story…

 

He placed the carrot next to his hunting ax on the saddle and slowly, carefully reached into his utility belt for the remains of his rawhide whip.

Soulin’

Soulin’

 

A distant gladness without despair’s reproof

Alight with joy abiding in its space

Sips at wine begat from grapes of promise

That neither sour nor tempers flair abase

 

So moves our core of love in temperate solace

Out of the self-full angst of dread and loss

To wean the sublunary geist of maudlin office

And lift that turgid heart above its dross

Ostentatious and deliberate

It seemed impossible. It was as if the rules of physics had somehow been temporarily suspended. Trees just don’t walk!

I know for certain that the huge juniper at the back edge of my property has always been directly behind the Alberta spruce that is the focal point of our upland garden. It is always perfectly in line with the Alberta when viewed from my office window. Today it is not! Today it is left of the Alberta by at least 15 feet.

As time allowed and I had gathered my wits about me I walked out to the property line and stood before the juniper. There was no sign of any kind of movement but, the tree was definitly 15 feet to the left of its usual position.

As I stood there in abject bewilderment, wondering how this could be possible, the little Alberta spruce, now behind me, said: “He’s always playing dumb tricks like that!”.

I don’t like to be toyed with. I took up a position on the ground in front of the juniper and sat, cross legged, on the ground. I stayed there and watched for well over two hours. It never moved. I, obviously, was mistaken.

Counterpunctilious

Dark Delights

A frisson of dark delight…
…why did all the apples fall to the ground
A wisp of illicitness in the morning mist…
…just then, while that smoke lingered
A ravel of treachery in the ensuing engagement…
…incessantly; noxious
And restless, questing into the somber fray…
…as years of misliving bend and twist us into mislife
Under the dark now, singing its bright when…
…and, with a whimpering, hollow our fairest deeds.

How I Think About Poetry

The restless mind, questing more
Sings a path across the fray
Beneath the purseus, violent sky
Begat within it’s summer day
That no one should regret it’s time
It’s songs are always soft with joy
And pleasures flow within its span
What art it has it will deploy
There may be morrows in its ken
And greens before it’s wandering goal
Murmured hints of darkling favors
Bend and twist it’s eager soul
Then on an incandescent eve
It within me sang so soft
A paean of mortal turbulence
That once again drove hope aloft
It’s joy must need a sacrifice
and doom now looked twice in the eye
As all the good that steals today
Twists tomorrows dreams awry

Now this is where the truth does lie

 If we accept that absent lies, we have the truth then truth is, like cold being the absence of heat, all that’s left when lies are gone!  Here is a good example of twiddling  with relationship and “cross domain mapping” to arrive at a position that is difficult to accept and equally difficult to refute. Read the rest of this entry »

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