Monday, January 15, 2018

OTI:three poems and notes:1/15/18

Open To Interpretation


There are things around you
That you never see
Or you saw and forgot
Or ignored.
When transiting from
Night to Day
Sunlight glints off of me.

A Wall Of Fog
From the Masthead the lookout
Tried to peer over the wall of fog
But his high vantage point
Wasn't quite enough to see over.
And the swift current carried
Black Ship Liz
Along beside beneath the wall
Preventing passage into the fog.
"Some mystery this..."
Said Watteau,
"We go around around now for days,
Trapped in this current,
It a shield of some kind.
It doesn't let us see.
It doesn't let us enter.
And enter we must!
Petra and half the Liz's crew
Are in there, somewhere."
The racing teams hadn't returned
From the Pinnacle race.
The race finishes at
The Pinnacle's peak.

An Island Of Pines

Above the waves,
A small forested island
To plant a victory flag,
Or acknowledge the one
Usually there--Ichi's.
The Peak island was behind the fog
Beyond the circling current
That couldn't be crossed.

The Island Jewels
They were like uncut gems
And crystals strewn across
The black ocean
In a grand circle of colored
Giant floating islands
Like a wreath about
The tall Pine covered
Pinnacle peak.
The Black Whales had
Guided Petra's team's
White Whale to the surface
And to the Peak's shore.
Petra unharnessed their Whale
And it joined the frolicking.
About the Peak.
The sea was crowded with
Whales gathered together
For their birthing.
Petra secured the
Black Ship racing pod
Beside Ishmael's and Ichi's
And her team made
The short climb up
Through the Pines
To be with the others.
From the top they all could
See clearly all around
And looked with wonder
At thousands of Whales
Cavorting in an arena
Made by the floating Islands.
Beyond the Islands
A grey wall of fog,
Otherwise, a blue blue sky day.
"What are they?"
Asked Dana
"I've never seen the like."
"Yes you have,"
Said Cerulean.
"On your adventure
To the Poet's world."
"BlackSpace Ships!"
Exclaimed Petra,
"BlackSpace Ship Wonder
Is black as coal
And not nearly so large!
These are glorious!"
"They are full grown,"
Said Cerulean,
"And acquired their colors
After many journeys."
"Why are they here?"
Asked Dana.
Cerulean smiled,
"They got wind
Of the Pinnacle Race,
And the gathering of the Whales.
The news evoked
A spontaneous festival.
They've come their long ways
To see the Whales,
And too to do
The Pinnacle Race."
Puzzled, Petra looked
At Cerulean,
Her arms akimbo,
"How so you know all this?"
From beneath his shirt
Cerulean brought out a necklace,
A medallion the size of his hand
White and shaped like a snowflake,
Or rather an infinity of snowflakes
As from moment to moment
It never looked quite the same.
"From my time with the Hexagons."
Said Cerulean,
"We keep in touch."
Petra reached to her throat
And displayed her necklace,
A medallion in the shape of a flower
That was never still,
Always changing from one
Floral shape to another.
"The Pentagons gave us these..."
Said Petra.
Dana and Ishmael showed
Cerulean their floral medallions too.
"Just so."
Said Cerulean,
"We all have their wind chimes."
Notes: hmmph...caught a cold that turned my brain to mush and couldn't put two words together...these poems drafts from like December 14....thought to post up around Xmas...the scene being a bit of a Xmas wreath...but of late I've become shy about posting...and have indulged in midnightmovies...there so easy to watch on the Samsung tablet...mostly been watching the old HBO series available through amazon...let me think...there was Rome, then Westworld, then Deadwood, then the FX series Justified....I can't recommend any of them because of the uncensored things...why censorship doesn't apply to cable, the net, and such, I don't know...that aside, these series all have merits...the writing, the acting, the stories...and I guess that's why I endure watching them...once I begin one, it becomes a marathon...I'll stay up all night watching one episode after another, messing up my sleep cycle, and so go for days in a kind of moviedrug induced televisionstupor...and being a mimic, I find myself walking about like Raylan, the US Marshal hero of Justified, and Olyphant, the actor in the role, too was a lawman in Deadwood...interest in his acting in that led to watching Justified...these series are all of the same fabric...same settings, same plots, same bantering dialogs...throw in The Wire with them...and I could point to one thing, the bordellos, and one could see the unifying motifs and themes in them...and there are a lot of borrowings, one to another...and basically, they're cliffhangers...they're Louie L'amore, uncensored...a motif in Justified is Raylan pulling back his coat to show his holstered pistol and his marshals badge on his belt...brings to mind, 'pointed to my hip, "Scissors"'....(one needn't keep up here, I'm just on a ramble...)....I did a post about sheriffs' badges, and if I remember right related them to the Pennsylvania Dutch putting pentagons to ward off evil on their barns and homes...five and six pointed starts are old symbols...I thought to look that up again, and read about badges...during the War of the Roses, they were side or another would make pins and 'livery badges' , and folk would be very keen to be loyal and proud to wear a badge, so much so that just the badge was enough to coagulate a following...this must be a well known phenomena , the new Star War's movie ends with a camera zoom in on the emblem badge of the 'Resistance' Justified, tattoos and necklaces are interwoven into the themes, which are dark, as good and bad get scrambled...following along, we all find ourselves digging coal together...anyway, reading wiki's take on Badges, I happened on the tale of Ruby Bridges, and the famous painting by Norman Rockwell of her being escorted to school by US Marshalls...back there a ways, rolled out to the Gypsy Den and joined in the OCPC Poetry Slam...a desultory effort on my out nine of the 'Elizabethans' sonnets...and little chance of winning up against the modernists and their uncensored rants...there's another one tomorrow night...I don't know what's going on with the B'mor detective shooting...the FBI has refused to take over the investigation...meanwhile, thereabout, the kids are freezing in their classrooms...

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

OTI:one poem, notes:12/13/17

Open To Interpretation

Foreign Lands

I'm an unknown country
Not of your cartography,
And not likely
You'll beseech your
King and Queen
To fund some expedition,
Equip a ship,
Bring along all you need
To go far away a long while
Looking for what
You're not sure you'll find.
Of your land I know:
From when your towns
Are storm lashed,
The caravan bandits
And sea roaming pirates
Bring the horizon stories.
Would you un-trammel me,
You think,
Walk with me
My land's paths?
I could send you an invitation,
A map that suggests
Your world could be round.

'You'd civilize me!',
Was a thought,
End my languor
In this sweet time
With nary a notion
There's more than ocean,
Some far away shore,
Some far away land
With no return.

What I once was,
What you once were
Will all be gone
If you wade ashore,
Unload strange beasts
You ride astride.

So long as I breath
I still speak my old tongue
When your back is turned
Looking at that cell phone.


Notes:...hmmph...from the iPhone notepad to yahoo mail to Tablet to blog...bit of a journey in itself! editing tools on the tab to learn...maybe too many...and so sensitive...stunfortunately. ..stuff pops up like that!...bit slick to walkabout...



Sunday, December 10, 2017

OTI:20 poems, notes:12/10/17

Open To Interpretation

So, I slew the war my rival for you
And knew its end to be my end as well.
That Dragon was fire over all you loved too,
Making smoke of all that Fate can sell.

A foolish merit I had to think that
From unfolded pages dreams can come true,
And you, you twirling spinning acrobat,
Would find the time to be just me with you.

So, Dragons' spawn and wars' prosperity,
I joined the unembellished skeptical,
Hung up my armor, my naivety--
Friended Dragons whenever practical.

'You knew her too?'  A stranger familiar
Commensurates our stories' peculiar.

The Dictionary Girl
What kids would we have
Married if I with the girl
Who writes the dictionary?
Surely she would
See to their spelling correctly
Along with mine.
I can't convince anyone of anything
Least of all you,
You who have everything
And have no need of anyone
Least of all me.

Truth Be Known
We all have
A pee hole
Or a pee pole
And truth be known
It's where we all come from,
A truth the intelligent sorts
Could never come to grips with
In their gold floored
Bejeweled temples
Of philosophical facades.

I was a fellow
Looking for a girl
Looking for a fellow
Beyond that
I hadn't thought
To brighten your days.

Don't you know
Tomorrow is another
And by chance we've
Come this way...
Why delay?
So, I won't answer to anyone
Least of all you
With promises
Saying I'll be someone
Not true.

Look at me squarely
When my eyes say
I love you dearly,
Then you can look away
If your heart says you must,
That I can trust.

Dream State
Poems come from the
Dream State
You know?
You get hungry
You eat
You get sleepy
You sleep
You get annoyed
You make a poem,
Usually about a girl.
What's behind you
Is in front of you.
Past It
If you can't get past it
Then let it pass you.
Stubborn sorts
Sitting in the road
Get carried away
Or run over.
Stop And Start
You think you can
Make it all stop?
Then what,
You think you can make it all start?
Mimic this
You'll mimic
Mimicking you.
Forget it
I'll forget it.
Bury it
And I'll dig it up.
This cape I wear...
You wouldn't think sorrow
Could keep one warm.
Things We Do
Things we do
Are painful
I could make a moon with you
Never a sun,
Such my preference
For night over day.
Men In Black
I could get
A black poncho
And look like Clint
With my squint,
Or a black cape
Like debonair Zorro-
My hands saw the air,
Or conceal but my
With Dracula's wardrobe-
Safely put away
In the day,
And what more magnificent
Than Darth garbed
Black head to toe
Sucking air through
A regulator-
'My harlequin mask is frightful,
I tell you,
Wheeeze wheeze,
My pupils
Are black holes-
There's no escape.'
For those of you miss fortuned,
Blind crippled broken somehow,
I hope there is some justice
For those of us who took bare notice
And you'll be whole enow.
How do I tell
If I make sense
If you don't tell me so...
This dilemma applies
To other things,
You know.
Cell Phone
I wake up
And mess with my cell phone.
Night used to be a desert,
Now it's tropical.
Notes: stuff dredged up from Doggerland...if Doggerland sunk/flooded slowly, for awhile it would have been like an archipelago--the Fortunate to thinking of Doggerland because one of the ancient mystery youtube gadabouts, the one who most fits!, went on about Alfred Watkins and his ley lines ...Watkins was a photographer, and I know of another...brb...Yosemite photog Carleton Watkins......Fortunate/Blessed Isles came from reading some in Robert Graves' Greek Myths at the laundry...the gadabout has it that the Egyptian pyramids are spaceship models and goes on about it without even a nod to's been said the Egyptian temples are stylized representations of the human body...and this conceit continues on and shows up in medieval cathedrals...maybe the pyramids represent the human the temples, the inner sanctum the seat of consciousness...and we can fly about imaginatively, so the 'spaceship' notion a fit thought I came up on is that modern churches are laid out like the interior of passenger jets...seating on either side of an aisle...the cockpits' instrumentation arrayed in the alter d├ęcor...flight attendants, pilots, etc....they're all Starship Enterprise...and the 'why' explanation for the pyramids being built is that the astronomer priests were keeping a memory flame alive...memories of old time flying about in spaceships...themselves not even certain what they were about...traditions can be like that...their original meaning being forgotten...don't know...another thought is that all those grand buildings and traditions are an intuition...a 'memory' of future times...I predicted once to my friends there would be a hand held computer for all my photos, this in 2003...and it made sense...the new digital cameras had come out with led screens in the back, and it quickly became popular to just share your photos on those screens...things have gone a pace, and I came home this evening with Samsung's Galaxy Tab A...I found a really neat travel tells one how to actually get from a to b on public transport, and with real time arrival and departures...but I couldn't download iphone 4 too old, again...annoyed, I thought, I'll just get another up to date cell phone but use it without a cell phone contract...studying this out, I found that can be has to bypass the simm card prompt, or, with the iphones, fake the phone into thinking it has one...then, I was thinking, one has like a little tablet computer...'why, DavidDavid, don't you just get a handheld tablet?...'...and that I was on sale...a lucky break...Best Buy forgot to take the sale price off after their big cyber week sales...99 dollars...and I'm a happy just does everything...and is fast...I owe ATT maybe an apology...I've gone on, back and forth, many times about how slow their service is, and the lag, and drops, and, I realized now it's the age of my lap has plenty of memory, but the software is out of synch with the newer it lags...they could have told me that...get a new back, they ran fiber optic between the poles...said in a few months they'd come around to connect to the houses...been like six...and I can put Microsoft Word on the pad...ATT did try to sell me a new iphone...but this pad fixes all my plays television, youtubes, movies, just fine...and with removable storage, I can back up my poems and posts...and with Word do almost to completion what before I had to do in steps...uploading from the notepad to my email, from my email to the blog or Word...well, it's a computer after all, entire...need to rig small bungees like I do for small paintings to hold it...just a bit too wide, big, and heavy, but okay hand held...

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

OTI:one pic, one poem, notes:12/5/17

Open To Interpretation

We Should

We should wear melancholia capes
To remind us of sadness, always,
After all,
Doesn't the Moon emblazon Night
With the color of bone,
Doesn't the wind ruffle curtains
Even when the window is shut?


Notes: rolled out to Gypsy Den last night, and tonight...last night open mic for the guitarists...sat and listened...tonight open mic for the out sonnets Dark Lady and What's Next?...and listened...small bunch...promised that next time a larger gathering--OCPC poetry slam contest Tuesday two weeks from now...



Monday, December 4, 2017

Sunday, December 3, 2017

OTI:one pic, two poems, notes:12/3/17

Open To Interpretation

"Our White Whale is lost!"
Said Dana.
"Just so."
Said Petra.
"What to do?"
Asked Cerulean.
"Our Black Ship-let's
Black Deck can
Show the ways.
Our hands together here."
Explained Petra.
And while with one hand
She gripped the
Whale tether reins,
With her other together
With Dana's and Cerulean's
She pressed the small Ship's surface
And the Deck flashed geometries,
And then the many ways
To ascend the Pinnacle.
Petra studied.
"The way through the
Furnace Canyon is lost to us,
Our Whale too fearful now."
She said.
The three of them
Despaired awhile
Gazing into the tangled images
Of the undersea mountain's
"Time abates."
Said Dana.
"Yes," said Petra.
"Now our only race
Is to find the surface of the sea
And live.
And the Deck's map
Has no certain way
Only some more likely
To welcome our guess."
The racing pod shook,
Bumped by a passing black
Swimming form glimpsed
In the glow from the Deck.
The three held to
One another tight.
Bump! bump!
The pod pushed,
Swung this side to that
At the tether's end
By some daring darting creatures
In the darkness.
"Black Whales."
Said Petra.
"They have us now,
And our White Whale."
"What of us?"
Asked Cerulean.
"We're snacks!"
Smiled Dana.
"Unless we sing a tune."
Laughed Petra.

Pinocchio's Tune

And when you thought
To devour me whole
With your Leviathan appetite,
What fate had I
But to acquiesce?
So stomached,
Awaiting your digestion,
We sat by my campfire,
Its smoke evoking
An unexpected sneeze.

Notes: more B'mor..."Any comments on this case going forward will come from the FBI." --T. J. Smith spokesperson for the in Baltimore are a bellwether for everyone, so now and then search: Baltimore news



Saturday, December 2, 2017