Artifice V

[rowens]

Artifice V

The philosophers talked coffee on the way to the home
where the living slept deadly in shifts, 
blanketed in hotelroom art.

Basket-Case Artimus, the towndump of the organization
lay the introduction to the small selected group
who sat passively by the tv.

May moonlight casting its purple aura
through rich green limbs and shaded grass
with the scant scent of flowers and honeysuckles,
also once rich, before the bulldozers,
was the thought of one drowsy-drifty
old man.

Another thought of flying ships,
shapes he could not identify,
as the screen passed mutely
over old newspaper headlines
and b&w photos.

The thought-experimenters' lesson came to be
'Everything in its right place.'
As though this were something new,

the sitters all stood up from their seats.
Those standing sat and drew pictures on paper
strewn across their tables like carmine.
The novelty of the situation had one old woman
fold an origami karaoke machine
they'd later get up and dance to.

This is progress, one of the janitors said,
or at least art. A scientist took
notes, went home and recorded every-
thing that had been said and seen
in his handwriting innocent as goldfish.
He lived another 43 years.

[rowens]

Epitaph

Smugness is worse
with a closed mouth.
Eyes dryly glistening,
poised as a mob.
Beauty

is beautiful
whether or not ugly exists;
intensified by the sacrifice,
ugliness is sacred,
beauty holiness.

Love and sing
in Mocking Ways.
And in Mockery
there's love.

A rooster ate the pious
piper's goat; twirled
somersaults on Alcatraz.
To have done with our judgments.



..............................................








Beware Any Word that Starts With Re


Animals come
to reclaim sound.
Mix truth with 
anxiety, throw
out the towel.

Burning
the sun in
heaven,
incinerating
the word;

how high
a man can 
jump, being 
low by his
own standards.

OfficeMax has a sale
on old typewriter
ribbons.
This is 2009.

[TranquillityBase]

Artifice V

The philosophers talked coffee on the way to the home
where the living slept deadly in shifts, 
blanketed in hotelroom art.

Basket-Case Artimus, the towndump of the organization
lay the introduction to the small selected group
who sat passively by the tv.

May moonlight casting its purple aura
through rich green limbs and shaded grass
with the scant scent of flowers and honeysuckles,
also once rich, before the bulldozers,
was the thought of one drowsy-drifty
old man.

Another thought of flying ships,
shapes he could not identify,
as the screen passed mutely
over old newspaper headlines
and b&w photos.

The thought-experimenters' lesson came to be
'Everything in its right place.'
As though this were something new,

the sitters all stood up from their seats.
Those standing sat and drew pictures on paper
strewn across their tables like carmine.
The novelty of the situation had one old woman
fold an origami karaoke machine
they'd later get up and dance to.

This is progress, one of the janitors said,
or at least art. A scientist took
notes, went home and recorded every-
thing that had been said and seen
in his handwriting innocent as goldfish.
He lived another 43 years.

Though I needed to read it several times to absorb it all correctly, really enjoyed this poem, especially the final 3 stanzas, but all of it really.

[rowens]

Love


Even the sound of the airconditioner,
humming steady motion,
presents the love, the particular, the cavern
love for those
near, those dear, and this ever clearly.

Though the laws it takes
to hold separate patterns together
run ever on, water from the gutter
to ground, like scattered rain.
There's a humanity

to thunder; huddled
together in different tones,
moods like the rainbow:
Nature is its own discovery;
people, like written texts,
glow over their mummery,

breathe kisses like incense,
hug like chilled wine from the storm.
Build, like the pressures of air,
higher, a wider perspective,
atop the ladder where all
is seen and shared,
all forgiven
that could separate

from this whole that's home
regardless of space and loss,
certainty, the selfsame giving
holiday
when you realized that you are God,
how lonely.

[Mark A Becker]

Well now rowens, seems like spring is sprouting some pretty cool ideas between yer ears.

Among them, this:
The novelty of the situation had one old woman
fold an origami karaoke machine
they'd later get up and dance to.

[Bunx]

The imagery in the poem is so solid, I feel like I could clearly picture these scenes clearly as I read the poem.
The word choice in this poem is spot on, I feel like I kept trying to piece together the context around it the poem. Using terms like philosophers and the Artimus reference puts alot of connotation behind what could be jobs, science testees, and things often not looked at with symbolic significance.
Thanks for the read