Saturday, May 8, 2010

past the point of mere inertia to the line from here to soliloquy

The screaming blazing comet of your head from a nice boot of white
streaks the grey brown void to places where there is no other stuff
to curse you with unnatural pink volume and the yellowness of stars,
a empty dark billow where all is right because all has ceased to be at all
except re-entrant crispiness because the burning ground is all burnt up.

There is no consumer taxonomy for streaking on such a gone degree of orbit
while you flail a dead sock at the eel weir moss that takes your breath away-
black and white scotty magnets on macadam cannot patch that glassy trouble,
nor your helmet made from broken street lamps shield your grey from aliens:
your thirty year detour in primer paint with a down-draft wing of six-cylinder spunk
marked with crusty cedar apple rust always washed out under dark umbrellas.

Orange sunrise on the sherbet dormer reflects your gaze so blank and banal
with that scrufty dog window sill white over the winter bales of grassy seed:
a plump berry of hazy fumes in this sweet and churning perfume of icy ecstasy
encourages the theoretical kundalini of monkeys to stream your long jones live
with hard radio static over the squawks of geese that plainly state the granite statutes.

In a world of ubiquitous metaphor when I click on the light I am a god to you,
just another kind of blackbird with extra tears for the withered little tweaker
who's stealing breath for one more sunset in an exoskeletal bag of crispy chips:

and it's all just a mandala in sands of green, maroon, and rust

about to be swept away.


  1. Far out... greens and rust... feel as if I've just stepped off The Cyclone.

    Technical question: how are you able to get your lines to not break in half? I have endless trouble with this on blogger.

  2. @Megan: Yeah, a crazy wild ride I needed to get out of my system. Ha! I had to hack the HTML template for this to make the post area wider because I just had to have these ridiculously long lines and I did not want them to wrap. I will send you detailed instructions under separate cover. It's not hard, just 5 numbers that need to be replaced.

  3. "a empty dark billow where all is right because all has ceased to be at all"
    this makes me feel as if my world has been captured and put under a microscope and then tapped. bravo indeed darling : )

  4. @Autumn: The best is that I was able to capture a place that resonates with another person, a place I suspect all of us have spent some time, perhaps some more than others. That means a lot to me. Cheers, darling. ;-)

  5. brilliant imagery in this one Gerry, cool :)

  6. Gerry Boyd,

    I have come back and read this a couple of times and now while I bludgeon through your beautiful picturesque I find the banal of the day to day, our existence caught up in our lives sometimes mundane.

    Did I read right or...?

    aka Handcuffs and Bracelets

  7. @william: cheers mate!

    @all ways 11: At the risk of sounding flip or coy, which is certainly not my intent all, let me just say "sort of". Ha! My intent is usually to try to create a verbal space that is somehow compelling enough to encourage re-reads by lovers of language while at the same time cutting the stone with enough facets that multiple reflections are possible. A place where what the reader leaves with, they brought themselves. So, I am delighted that you actually were able to read this more than once. That being said, I would suggest, by my second intent, that you could not possibly have read it "wrong". Cheers.

  8. The cool vibrant images here remind me of my conviction that the mundane is never really mundane.

    So many goodies, like:

    "the eel weir moss that takes your breath away"


    "the theoretical kundalini of monkeys to stream your long jones live/with hard radio static over the squawks of geese that plainly state the granite statutes"


  9. Gerry,

    A myriad of colour, only interrupted by the tweet from that dear blackbird...WONDERFUL!


  10. @Jenny: Even the mundane vibrates with life.

    @W&W: I read that as wrapped in a moment of dyslexia. Weirdly, that seems to make sense also. Ha!

    @Eileen: Cheers.

  11. "In a world of ubiquitous metaphor when I click on the light I am a god to you"
    what a glorious line, gerald. i'm on my third read, letting the whole wash over me, as different lines emerge from this marvelous sea of words with each reading.

  12. very thoughtful....I like this!

  13. @Ms. M: Thank you NYC! On the thirty-third read, you will receive universal consciousness.

    @if: Cheers.

  14. Lieber Gerry,

    Wieder Einmal mehr bin ich von deinen Gedanken BeGeistert, du sprichst hier sehr in Bildern, Jedes Wort WIRD Sichtbar, einfach wundervoll ...

    Herzlichst, Rachel

  15. Amazing. Your play on words is exactly the way I like to read poems. T'is the stuff of legends.

  16. @Lieber Rachel: Ich bin glücklich, Sie können die Bilder in meinem Kopf zu sehen. Danke, Gerry

  17. @Rycard: Thanks. I can almost read this out loud without either stumbling or laughing. I am making progress. The lines just wanted to be unusually long in this and I don't know why. Dense, I usually write, but long lines not so often. Who knows? Ha!

  18. @Totalfeckineejit: Feckin' mad and lovin' it. Cheerio.

    @WIAW: Just to let you know I stopped in. I like the prose you're writing now. Very compelling for the most part.