Friday, January 22, 2010

unexpected evidence of a yellow poppy about to bloom

The flapless dip of a buff thrush in sudden flight
is a frozen snap of broadcast joy obliquely snatched

in that moment certain moment just the same

you are the cirrus cloud you see you are
breathing at sunset into sure dissolve
leaving nothing but of breath behind
except the exhaled trails of atoms clashing,

when one jagged node through the gnarled pines
delaying darkness with yet more darkness still

egresses into sudden light:

a death that seeks to conquer death
with pebbles tossed to distant curbs;

the opposite of myopia is a tremolo just dissipated
into dusky assignations on the boulevard of minor keys,

a fillip without cream or sugar
that takes its black and proper place
in the azure pantheon of ceramic doubt,
the bloody hole of a glazed donut
drizzled back upon itself
on a disk of princely Doulton.

Entwined with the discipline Etrusca
a headlock of four syllables for the cursus velox
slams the lettered mat with a rough phillipic
funneled from the aural miasma
into the channel of your bronze and purple vision:
an idiopathic halo in a message of bright.

The propensities and densities of animated meat-
the meat is animation, animation meat,
or so he claimed once in Amsterdam:
his naught was not a vengeful naught
nor incensed by the orange burn of clove
upon the third forehead of a creeping dawn;

a hare stomped upon the pungent reeds
but the warning was diffused by punks
standing erect among the fragrant petals:

from zygote to zombie and back again,
a second coming is surely not enough

27 comments:

  1. What a great flow of images. Really enjoyed this.

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  2. I feel like I just entered a surrealist painting and got lost somewhere in its twists and turns. That was an amazing read!

    Nevine

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  3. Thanks Nevine, Gordon, and Shadow. It's gives me great joy that you have found something to enjoy in this little scribble. Regards, Gerry

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  4. This is a wonderful read...the imagery is phenomenal.

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  5. sorry, gerry boyd, but do you drink coffee? do you dribble on your chin? i now know you laugh, but i can't read you and not wonder about you. your words, come on, let's face it, you are so intellectual it hurts. do you sit in greasy spoons or do you hold your newspaper crisp? am I alien to wonder?

    can you crack each line as my children do with their walnuts at Christmas? and if you do, does the shell stay in your hand and nut go to mouth? or like my children, does your kitchen floor wear it all?

    and will you tell me?
    xo
    erin

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  6. Thanks Gerry,
    For bringing us out of darkness into light!

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  7. sorry, gerry boyd, but do you drink coffee? [Sure and green tea mostly] do you dribble on your chin? [Sometimes] i now know you laugh, but i can't read you and not wonder about you. your words, come on, let's face it, you are so intellectual it hurts. [sorry, they're just words] do you sit in greasy spoons or do you hold your newspaper crisp? [Sometimes. I only read news online] am I alien to wonder? [Perhaps]

    can you crack each line as my children do with their walnuts at Christmas? [Sure, I love to break words] and if you do, does the shell stay in your hand and nut go to mouth? [I try to be exacting but often fail] or like my children, does your kitchen floor wear it all?
    [My kitchen floor has mostly rabbit detritus]
    and will you tell me? [I hope this helps]
    xo

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  8. I was also taken by the meandering imagery.... you do this thing with color and contrast that always catches me; and I had felt sense of the power of ordinary beginnings that then sort of exploded outwards... like a small bird breaking into flight, or a letter falling through a mail slot, or a slash of color on a plate.... a most enjoyable read.

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  9. Gerry Boyd, you make me laugh. HA! There. A big one.
    xo

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  10. A buff thrush. Love the feel of this. Had to say it out loud a few times.

    Wonderful last line.

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  11. Willow: I had a hard time reading that line out loud too. A U sound tongue twister. Funny. I wonder if it's too much. Oh, well. Write once and move on. Regards, Gerry

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  12. lines everywhere i enjoy,"the opposite of myopia is a tremolo just dissipated
    into dusky assignations on the boulevard of minor keys," of course! love it.

    but the ride you take one on a circus landscape
    roller coaster, hang on!

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  13. "...a death that seeks to conquer death..." - I was struck by this line. Some great lines in this poem, Gerry. Another one of your treats :)

    ps I really appreciate your support on my blog. Kudos!

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  14. No prob CathM. You've been rockin' it for the challenge. It's nice to see you posting frequently and the quantity has not hurt the quality. Maybe you should always write under pressure. Ha!

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  15. "except the exhaled trails of atoms clashing"....sounded like an interesting metaphor...

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  16. fantastic imagery Gerry,I was enthralled to read it!

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  17. Irina: Welcome. Thanks for finding something that resonated with you. Regards.

    Dan: Welcome. Glad this gave you a ride. Regards.

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  18. There are some breathtaking leaps from image to image packed into this - which is what I think poetry should be. On the strength of those I have worked out, I have no doubt but that the poem has strength and stamina. I shall work on the others.

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  19. Sarah: Welcome. There's almost nothing that a reference to zombies cannot improve, heh? A persisting, and sometimes accurate, metaphor for the quiet lives we lead, no? Thanks, Gerry

    Mr. King: Been lurking around your site for awhile now so I humbly appreciate your comment. I agree that poetry should leap and push the boundaries of language. Thanks for stopping by. Gerry

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  20. Brittany" Thanks. Glad you found something to like. Welcome. Regards, Gerry

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  21. the bloody hole of a glazed donut

    that one smacked me around a little bit. Mm.

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  22. i love this poem! its real detailed, and i love the scenery! :)

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