Bibliographical
Octet Parts I-VIII
A
series of Challenge poems. There were 26 book titles in all to
choose from, so I made a point to write about all of them in one
sitting.
I
- Dream
Science
Charlie
lay on the floor,
sparks
of sodium chloride flew above his head,
dyed
purple, the beaker bubbled dreams,
a
psychology major out of his depth
played
with the chemistry of mind.
II
Missing
Pieces
He
awoke from his sidewalk stop,
the
booze worn off and morning light
streaming
into a fogged compartment,
he
scruffed back his disheveled hair
placed
the key in the ignition. Power!
Nowhere
too soon, left nor right,
no
straight ahead on the gears,
accelerating
forward and backward, nothing
out
of the car onto thin ice, slipping
and
there, the missing pieces, no wheels.
It
was a good night, a worse day.
III
Watch
Time Fly
His
legs were fast, damned quick
flying
like a suited business man
to
a very late appointment, sadly
he
lost control and tumbled, wrist watch
catapulting
into somersaults,
dying
in a crescendo of Timex parts.
IV
A
Stone Gone Mad
When
I first saw this title, I thought
"Stoner
gone mad" and thought, yeah, true!
but
no, 'twas a granite or igneous particle,
off
on a rant or a crazed flight into infamy,
someone’s
window. smashed beyond belief,
yeah,
could have been a stoner going mad.
V
Life
Support
Delilah
breathed heavily, the breath of a saviour,
clutched
Samson to her expansive bosom,
he
stirred some,
and
she clutched tighter, the scissors near his heart,
he
groaned, not sure why he was where he was,
and
felt her heartbeat through his ear,
the
sharp metal close to his chest, felt his hair
and
gaped anew, how could she, do I live or die?
VI
Life
Estates
"And
I leave all my estate to William and Shane,
my
two homosexual partners, they served me well,
to
my sons and daughters I leave my life,
breathe
me, feel my cold dead skin,
and
cry, for you have pained me when all I seek
was
joy and hope, but you fought over me,
and
you fight forever, with yourselves,
not
my lovers. They have always loved me. Life!"
VII
A
Cry in the Night
"Your
turn, darling" she whispered to me,
the
same me tired from a 12 hour shift,
the
same me that loves her dearly when
she
stays home all day and sleeps, when baby sleeps,
but
I love her, and move to the room next door,
the
crying in the night, urgent, nappy change
and
I smell the detritus of infant expulsion, reach
for
the new disposable, change Lucifer, clean
and
put back to bed, contented and happy,
I
sleep, and then he calls again, food this time,
"Your
turn, darling" I whisper as I drift off to sleep.
VIII
Fine
$35
dollars for Jay walking,
A
sunny day, no clouds.
I
am alright, just dandy.
The
cord was sinewy, very sinewy.
Yes,
everything is fine.
Bibliographical
Octet Parts IX - XVI
IX
The
Pull of the Moon
Saurus
and Junipon, stars of nights heaven
pull
together apart, a love dance
of
epic proportions across the scene,
and
lovers dance too, on Earth and know
the
moment when their love consumes,
look
up to the dark night sky and see
the
shuddering as each pulls on the Moon.
X
Trial
by Water
Your
Honour, I beg of you
hark
the words of my daughter
stake
my heart to your desk,
I
expect a Trial By Water.
I
will be vindicated by the wet,
and
the evidence we shall give,
like
fish in water swimming,
we
shall walk free and heartily live.
XI
Flashback
Fuck
dude, bad buzz man, alliteration
Sucked
seventy saucy savannas succulently,
and
dreamed of being somewhere else, punctuation
had
a thought: "Fuck man! What Happened?", inspiration
I
walked my memory back in rerun, saw the beginning
raged
at what was to come,
dark
patches as smoke roiled,
and
then the Flashback ended as I toked another joint.
XII
The
Sibling
Sisyphus,
great poet, hark thine words of joy,
thy
daughters repose, garnered for all to peruse,
doth
thou maketh past the watchdog at yon gate,
sail
youthfully upon sword of indifference, his son,
and
sibling rivalry doth endeth in demise of one,
or
other. Harketh now, sibling, live.
XIII
The
Third Twin
Three
mountains stand,
triangular
in disposition,
one
next to the other
next
to the other
and
only ever two visible
from
any viewpoint, twins
three
twins, Herecule, Junas,
Serecles,
only three,
yet
any two together
is
a twin without the other.
What
of the Third Twin?
Made
invisible by tricks of light
and
made visible by tricks of motion,
but
always when visible
another
is not, the Third Twin,
it's
destiny to be alone, unseen.
XIV
Arc
Light
Two
diodes, standing in a lab,
one
transmitting, one receiving,
between,
a fluorescent blue flash,
an
arc of light pure, energy raw,
manufactured,
yet real and solid,
reaching
from one point t'other.
"See
it? Now, there, pretty eh?"
XV
From
Potter's Field
Bruiser
walks the furrowed lane,
furrowed
from weeks of rain
and
wagon wheels, and the clay
droppings
from the Potters field.
His
daily grind, hail, rain, snow,
to
walk that lane, dig that field,
carry
that clay back to yon pottery,
and
to mould it into a figure or two.
From
the field is born art,
and
the ability to create life,
make
things people see and touch
and
want to take home with them
all
for money, and love t'is said.
Left
unread, the How To book
for
the Potters Wheel is oft
discarded
into the Potters Field
left
untouched, true art is born.
XVI
Leaving
Pico
Here
I was, 7 days there and now leaving Pico,
Little
dirt town, in the middle of the back and beyond,
no
dirty town water, clean folk, crime a measure of no policemen,
I
had left my mark, spend many dollars in the saloon,
yet
all too soon, I was busted for a drifter, and now,
I
was leaving Pico for sure. for reasons beyond my control,
Pico!
Two
bit town, twenty buildings, mostly houses, one store,
a
saloon with barber shop attached, oh and the lady's hairdresser's
attached
to the store, each place in a place and a purpose for each,
Pico,
doctor's surgery closed past ten years, too small for one,
and
the sheriff, well, he went when the state budget forgot,
forgot
that Pico existed still, yet it does, I have been there.
And
now I am leaving it, leaving that place of no identity,
yet
I feel at home there, my identity fits the bill, the reason Pico
and
the likes of me exist, because we just do, and bugger the world,
Now
you see me turning, facing my destiny, my life,
my
anonymity takes it's place with the lack of identity,
I
mingle, lost in the crowded saloon, amongst the voices familiar.
I
can leave Pico, but you cant take the Pico out of me!
Bibliographical
Nonet Parts XVII - XXV
XVII
Blood
and Gold
Morbidica,
the larycose mortician and druid,
parted
the flaps and inserted fluid,
like
an ancient priest practising arts of old
and
removed the Blood, inserted the Gold,
a
rich vein of conceit you have never seen,
as
a shining finger washed through a remaining spleen,
the
time had come for the service now
time
to transplant, human offal for cow,
the
service would be as they always had,
dogs
barking, cats meowing, witches so glad.
XVIII
Bad
Memory
Sweat
pours off my aching brow and I wonder,
why
this damned nightmare day after day,
headaches
from the incessant pounding of it's rhythm,
and
I etch out the times it leaves me breathless,
minus
my true direction, the dream sits as a
bad
memory that wants to erode my very being
and
I cringe,
shock
back into myself,
try
hard to be free,
to
kick the damn thing away,
yet
it clings to me every night and mocks my existence.
XIX
Icebound
Climatis
Aurora, high in the sky,
cutting
the blue, as ice cuts my life,
stuck
in a floe, arctic bound, stalled
and
all aboard freezing as fuel runs low,
steel
hull crumpling under icebound fury,
will
I survive this torment?
Northern
Star points my way north,
yet
my motion does not mirror the ocean,
I
am frozen solid in a liquid prison
prismatic
light refracts and sends off a sight
to
behold, light pictures dance in the cold,
make
way, rescue ensues, cutting through, icebound.
XX
Cards
of Grief
He
may as well have held a pack of guns in his hand,
each
one turned shooting a pain into my gambling heart,
each
turn of the deck stretching the rope round my neck,
each
flick of his wrist a shot in the dark and a hit,
He
may as well held my fate in his hands, he did!
I
walked from the gambling hall, alive,
wondered
at that final hand,
how
my cards turned green and gold,
and
his turned with grief,
I
had everything on it, and won,
took
his money, car, wife. and though brief,
I
read his cards of grief.
XXI
Blood
Music
Mozart
wrote an unknown suite,
a
tribute to the butchers of the streets of Venice,
and
it was lost to time, a menace in it's simplicity,
true
duplicity saw it's demise, yet surprise,
it
lives, Blood Music, for the pageantry of the dervish,
and
devilish peons of the city squares
dancing
to light footed mood and full bodied groove,
and
the music spills on the floor and follows the trails
of
red gore as they pass into history again.
XXII
A
Darker Place
I've
been there before, the black hole,
a
place to hide from the light, the fear,
a
place to dwell in my own miserable hell,
a
darker place no one can share, nowhere
a
place to be when I feel the mood to hide,
and
I do, all the time, hide from me, my life,
but
for all the darkness it offers I can't get away
from
the bright light that is my wife, she always finds me.
XXIII
Ancient
of Days
Days
of Sumerians, and Mesopotamia,
days
of Sanskrit beginnings and the Indus,
the
moments when Ottoman and Turk hated,
Alexander
the Great spread Greek culture,
like
a vulture of passion, looking to be Dionysus,
and
the Romans crucified men only, women who knows?
Bodecia
swung an axe, very bad BO she had,
and
some Arabs wrote down what someone had to say,
in
the Ancients Days.
The
archaeologists dig with trowels and tools,
and
read the signs that tell us of those times,
tell
us that Tutankhamen was a boy prince, godlike,
let's
us know that the Israelites travelled as the book says,
confirms
the word of mouth of the Persians
and
Indians who could have told you all this,
and
history holds sway,
from
Ancient Days.
XXIV
By
the Light of the Moon
I
sang a song for a second, remembered it's name
realised
that this poem and it were not the same,
that
wasn't meant to rhyme,
I
really don't have anymore time,
By
the light of the Silvery Moon
sounds
better than this poems tune,
and
the cat ran away with the spoon,
By
the light of the Moon.
XXV
Fear
Nothing
Stand
proud, puff out your chest, and always
do
your best to survive, fear nothing at all,
face
the music, face reality, and fly,
fly
in the face of fear, and you will get there.
Believe
in yourself and others abilities
things
you all have to face that which you fear
and
it becomes clear what to do, fight
for
what you feel is right, fear naught.
Take
a deep breath, and puff, huff and puff
your
chest out, be rough, and kind, just be,
the
best you can, run with the wind, faster
than
the chasing dogs barking at your heels, no fear.
No
Fear, no worries, no need to say sorry
to
everyone that you step on, upon the night
you
know it is alright to hold no fear, and hold it
dear
and near your heart, and fear won't get a start.
