Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Incendiary
In that instant inflammatory
Something-on-your-mind,
One thought keeps
Burning through
The darkness, nothing
To be left behind.
Something-on-your-mind,
One thought keeps
Burning through
The darkness, nothing
To be left behind.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Recent Links [Updated 11.30 pm]
Recently Linked—Definitely Not Lemmings #16: It's a pleasure to welcome Noxalio as a new follower of Vazambam—follow the links to these two interesting blogs:
Noxalio and noxpix.
[11.30 update, Definitely Not Lemmings #17: Aleksandra joins us from Holland; she is an artist and has two blogs, one here and another here. Thank you, Aleksandra!]
My thanks to William Michaelian for dedicating his drawing titled A Man Named Nobody to yours truly.
And lest I forget, thanks to Conrad DiDiodato who graciously added Vazambam to his blog list!
Noxalio and noxpix.
[11.30 update, Definitely Not Lemmings #17: Aleksandra joins us from Holland; she is an artist and has two blogs, one here and another here. Thank you, Aleksandra!]
My thanks to William Michaelian for dedicating his drawing titled A Man Named Nobody to yours truly.
And lest I forget, thanks to Conrad DiDiodato who graciously added Vazambam to his blog list!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Wake-up Call
A blind man sang this song.
*
In my mind’s eye, I saw
A man named Nobody
Drive a red-hot stake of green
Olive-wood into the single
Drunken, bloodshot eye
Of a sleeping giant,
Twisting it until it hissed,
And the giant’s eye shot out
Blood and clearly saw
No longer.
*
Aye, my wandering companions,
The mind’s eye is in deed
A wondrous place,
But not for sleeping,
Stuporous giants.
*
In my mind’s eye, I saw
A man named Nobody
Drive a red-hot stake of green
Olive-wood into the single
Drunken, bloodshot eye
Of a sleeping giant,
Twisting it until it hissed,
And the giant’s eye shot out
Blood and clearly saw
No longer.
*
Aye, my wandering companions,
The mind’s eye is in deed
A wondrous place,
But not for sleeping,
Stuporous giants.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Quiddity, As in Kraken
A super-duper
Squid up from the depths
Is what the id could be
Should the tentacles
Of the ego
Let it go.
Friday, February 19, 2010
End of the Line
No more mystery here—
No more train
Down these tracks
No more
Loud and clear.
(Not quite the end after all, passengers; last line added ten hours later at 10.00 AM Friday, February 19, 2010.)
No more train
Down these tracks
No more
Loud and clear.
(Not quite the end after all, passengers; last line added ten hours later at 10.00 AM Friday, February 19, 2010.)
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Ephemera
It's a good idea to write a poem about the first of May
in November or December, when you feel a desperate need for May.
--Vladimir Mayakovsky, from How Are Verses Made?
I fly from the present by two routes, that of the past
and that of the future.
--Lamennais, Correspondence, II, 378.
Which is to say
To
Morrow
May
Fly
Away
To
Day
Already
Yesterday.
Recently Linked: My thanks to an old, good friend and wonderful poet, Bob Arnold, for providing a link to my blog at A Longhouse Birdhouse. Always something to read here, all of it worthwhile and, if I may say so, nothing for the birds!
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