I recently applied to become an Associate Artist with the poet Cornelius Eady. These are the poems I submitted.
Bum Rap
https://youtu.be/LaUHUZ_9Usk
Expecting new vision
abrogating acclamation
I look, introspect
not knowing,
before the second coming
of my imagination,
broccoli spears
and kidney stones
peaches and pears,
the fruit of my imagination,
pursuing a furtive dynamic,
undertones sound
in the marrow of my bones.
new blood maybe,
but. . .
disturbed stones,
atonic tones,
my good wife’s
undeserved life,
(Multiple Shit, we call it),
stoned by
quantum’s general relativity,
particles and/or waves
absurd conundrum,
dark energy, dark matter,
dark.
No matter, it matters,
we matter
♡I LOVE YOU D♡
God’s asleep
on the Job
and/or playing dice*
with my wife’s life,
bet with the D/evil,
medieval times
dark ages,
my poor Jobena,
Life’s fuzzy logic.**
*Einstein: “God doesn’t play dice with the universe” or does he?
**Axiomatization of EVŁ stems from Łukasziewicz fuzzy logic. A generalization of classical Gödel completeness theorem is provable in EVŁ.(Wikipedia)
Doggerel
This video poem is presented by our dog, Sophie. The pun of dog and doggerel is intentional. This animated poem is from a 75 minute video Word Salad that won the Accolade award.
“What would it be like
to lead a dog’s life
and not know
you lead a dog’s life?
I do.
I had over-parked my time
with wretched rhymes
and jingle-jangle lines.
My metered mind
had run out of nickels,
so I began to write free verse.
I moved to assonance
and dissonance,
from passonance to pissonance
and found myself
the dog’s delight.”
https://youtu.be/XkunwEeWeXg
Alcoholism in n-Dimensions
Alcoholism in n-dimensions, a concrete poem in multiple topographical dimensions, inspired by e. e. cummings [from the award-winning video, The Creative Adventure]
Although typographically you might think I was drunk when I wrote this poem, I was
quite sober. I had been reading the poems of e. e. cummings and was paying attention to
his use of punctuation. I saw that, by using punctuation in a creative way, there might be
more that could be said in a poem. Unlike e. e. cummings, however, I did not use the
punctuation randomly, but indicated my discoveries taking the punctuation a step
further. In contrast to multiple meanings coming from the suggestiveness of metaphor
in ordinary poetry, this concrete poem takes the issues of alcoholism concretely and
multiple meanings in a concrete way. When drunk the alcoholic is a very concrete
thinker.
But there is more than just the typographical dimension of drunkenness. When I looked
deeper into the problems of a person addicted to alcohol and into this poem, I begin to
see much between the rhyme/lines. For example, by looking within single words I found
the letters of other words or by making simple changes of a letter or two, I discovered in
new words that also were references to the alcoholic experience, thus “Alcoholism in
n-Dimensions.”
He drank his breakfast, lunch and supper,
And in between times as a pick-me-upper.
He told her often he was gonna stop,
But between thee and me he lied a lot.
{You could easily tell, sometimes
By reading in-between the lines.}
There is more implied from this simple poem than the [hic(cuping)], the typographic
drunkedness. Look at the italics and between the brackets and the parentheses and
follow the under-linings. You will find other behavior that is often hidden from view.
Thus you may see the self-disgust [I reek (vomiting??) as I ween, I’m a sap, ick = me],
orality [cf. wean from the bottle vs. ween or imagine], narcissism [I, I, I, he ied a lot.],
the hostile dependency [he told her off], the self-deception [I tell o’ me], and the
duplicity [he lied a lot]. Following the under-linings there are other suggested words you
can find [I ween (I imagine) the ire, the urn, the ark, the art, the orb.] You might think
of other three letter words with “r” in the middle that refer to the alcoholic experience,
thus n-Dimensions.
“Ankh” is the Egyptian symbol of life; so the hidden poem, following the under-linings,
what is underneath, the ultimate tragedy of the alcoholic, is
Ankh Is As Unchained,
As He In Gin,
Ween(s)[archaic: conceives, imagines] the error [err]
Before [ere]
This discovered poem underlines the tragedy of the alcoholic who is aware of his
self-imprisonment, and wants to wean from the bottle, and realizes that life is freedom
from addiction.
By going deeper we can discover and create a better life.
Check, Mate*
We don’t own our children, we rent them. –after Kahil Gibran
No mere
groping
play)mate’s
chess/t,
groping for
answers.
No mere
wor(l)d play.
Pregnant within
this aborted poem
is (to be or not to be)
the question.
As we wrestle
with this
conundrum,
what choice
(to have or have not)
is t(here?
Early endgame,
Fool’s Mate.
Ripped, torn,
never born.
Contra love,
against conception.
More is less,
less is more,
or less
convenient?
No)w love lost.
Bishop rants,
“You lose
the right
to choose,”
Slanted, straight,
can’t move
off his col(la/o)r.
“Be fruitful and multiply.”
Beginning and end?
“No room in the inn”
for Malthus.
Can’t stay in
y(our ivory tower,
rooked at the end
of the universe.
Sooner or later
dead.
Renting earth.
Rats gnaw rats
in crowded cages,
playing out
this long, crooked
k(night
fork
of earth’s demise.
Love to eat, hate to kill.
Where’s the fatted calf?
Slim waist land.
T.ough S.hit Elliott!
Mere pawns,
stumble forward,
ready for sacrifice.
Or queen status,
to mate the king,
like praying mantis.
Hail, Mary, mother of God
knows what,
lend us your ear
to conceive
a better decision.
Not so black and white,
this chessboard of life.
Ripped, torn,
mother/earth
to mourn.
I see you (check)
early of late.
You used to be (check)
behind before,
But now
you’re first
at last (mate)
Check,
Check,
Check,
Check, mate,
before you put it in, Finnegan,
wake up.
No shroud
of m(i/y)s(t)ery.
Contraception,
not contra life.
A mater(n/i)al thing.
Who’s
gonna pay
the rent
in the fabric
of our
l(i/o)ving choices?
Checkmate.
*previously published in Voices: The Art and Science of Psychotherapy, 2011
Gift Rapt
tough negotiating rapture
rapids
mishap flows
baptized
in troubled waters
John foreshows
rapt attention
grand inquisitor
knows
rap rap rap
tapping at my chamber door
tap tap tap
solicitor
while I was napping,
and so gently
you came rapping,
“Nevermore.”
for
neither
epitomize
nor
improvise
lesser
metaphor
sold
thirty pieces of silver
entrapped in
war
catholicized
dark nights of souls
terrorize
abhor
demise
existential crisis
with the new Isis
jeopardize
no more pap
just more woes
Judas snapped
scandalize
bastardized to arise
identified with a kiss
spiritualize
tantalize
finalize
reprised
who knows
he glows
came
gift wrapped
guised rapture
in swaddling clothes.
This poem mentions ISIS several years before the group was formed!
https://youtu.be/3AWejrxswhs
Mirror-Mirror
https://youtu.be/yz8QBOpXNvA
Shopping for jewels
Visitors rarely visit,
disability being too chronic
for contemporary tastes,
so you venture out
in your wheelchair
dressed in pink
with a white
bandanna wrapped hat
to the outdoor market
looking for gems
of conversation
among the vendors
while others look on.
She says, “They stole
several pieces,
do it in groups,
one distracts,
others remove jewelry.”
You muse ,”No longer
come in groups,
MS took my peace,
distracted me from living.
I want to steal my life back.”