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Hatmadda
Junior Member

since 2009-06-11

Posts 10
Colorado

0 posted 2009-06-21 07:12 PM

As a Descartes recommendation,
the years go ever more simply forward.
An illusion dies daily and rockets on the sky,
its successor evidential truth.

2 and 2 is 4, equilateral mates equidistant,
kinships and betrayals are occurrences,
as sensible as elements,
the sad whimsy on the mouth of change,
a practiced wrinkle,
the way a river’s bend is cut,
carved closer to the core come Spring.

She’s a whispered yelling in varnished eyes.
A lacquer tear zigs
out the duct with storm-front winds,
mopped by fingers in macromay.
These are the things that happen to you.

Eternal spirit gets evidenced through thought.
I think, so I am.
Nexus is built.
God tipped a glass.

Away it goes, originating circumference,
where linear points converge,
an optical invisibility saturating infinite points,
a forgotten memory of bandaged playground scrapes.

Thus precision advances one chiseled notch.
The stylized hand of disenchantment
keeps its two-tone forward march
in meter of orbits and cycles –

Tock proclaims absolution every other moment.
Framed in blinking opals,
his attentive gaze resonates
finality to the previous second;

His alto counterpart,
bright eyed and playing:
a child-like zeal,
her having found inexhaustible bliss
among a tenderly spoken game
of ‘I say Tick, you say…,’
as if her treasured appropriation
were all the while his reason to exist.

There is no portrait, poem,
song that has not been scorned,
by a know it all on cushions
in a plushly antiseptic waiting room;
leaned up in leather to a street light,
dragging from a Camel;
behind thick glasses in a class on literary masters.

The alley door mopes in shadow,
like bleak secrets of the mind -
mentioned late, when a person tries to rest;
it’s lonely here with all these people.

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

1 posted 2009-06-22 04:34 AM

quote:

His alto counterpart,
bright eyed and playing:
a child-like zeal,
her having found inexhaustible bliss
among a tenderly spoken game
of ‘I say Tick, you say…,’
as if her treasured appropriation
were all the while his reason to exist.

Here I am just popping in and saying "Welcome to Pip, dear David!"

Your first entry is a complex work and deserves deeper attention than I can give it right now, but the feel of it is stirring, which is the function of art I would say.

Love,
Margherita

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart

2 posted 2009-06-22 08:54 AM

Welcome to Passions, David!

quote:
among a tenderly spoken game
of ‘I say Tick, you say…,’
as if her treasured appropriation
were all the while his reason to exist.

There is no portrait, poem,
song that has not been scorned,
by a know it all on cushions
in a plushly antiseptic waiting room;

I enjoyed these lines very much.

Please check your email for a
Very Special Greeting!

" It matters not this distance now " Excerpt, Yesterday's Love
~*~
KRJ

Hatmadda
Junior Member

since 2009-06-11

Posts 10
Colorado

3 posted 2009-06-23 12:15 PM

Thanks. Maybe I should try something more palpable next time.
Cheers

Clang
Member

since 2005-12-15

Posts 222

4 posted 2009-06-23 04:14 AM

I LOVED this! It is wonderful!

Dark Stranger
Member Patricius

since 2001-03-19

Posts 13631
West Coast

5 posted 2009-06-23 07:52 AM

Mr D..enjoyed your splay of say here...

Midnitesun

Member Empyrean

since 2001-05-18

Posts 28647
Gaia

6 posted 2009-06-23 08:53 AM

A wonderfully complex write, one to re-read and think about again this evening.

I especially enjoyed this:
"An illusion dies daily and rockets on the sky,
its successor evidential truth."

Please don't be concerned with 'palpable.'
Just keep the mind and heart in harmony and those fingers busy on the keyboard.

Welcome to Passions!

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

7 posted 2009-06-23 05:34 PM

quote:
The alley door mopes in shadow,
like bleak secrets of the mind -
mentioned late, when a person tries to rest;
it’s lonely here with all these people.

I am impressed by your work, see? I have come back to read it again... and I love Geometry ...

Love,
Margherita

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