Saturday, July 23, 2016

OTI:sixteen poems and notes:7/23/16

Open To Interpretation

Lost Song From A Dream

I cried beat beat
I tried beat beat
Our love was so complete
Beat beat

Da da beat beat
Da da beat beat
Dada da da da da da
Beat beat

And a kind of woodblock telegraph key tapping for drum beats

Oh it's gone,
I had the whole song...

Oh, No Doubt

Oh, no doubt
Your redoubt
Is impervious
To all my flirts
And so obvious
If one succeeds
It will be genius.


That computer rehearsed
Its chess move how many billion times?
Nothing, nothing at all
To the stars' reiterations
That brought you here.
No wonder I fear
From some stupid impulse
I'm repulsed
And wander another eternity.


Flowers are in attendance
At funerals and weddings,
And more attentive than I,
So easily I drift off subject
Unless it's mine.

Beauty And Proportion

So, you too love
Beauty and Proportion,
Even your own.
My flatteries never meet
Your humble look,
Rather your questing look,
"Tis so?"
"Yes, you're beautiful."  I say,
Grateful to speak what most pleases you,
And greet your embrace.


Tease my ass
Oh you do you do
An expression of affection
They say
Pleases me too.


Would that I would
Have you don sackcloth with me?
Like Francis his Claire?
Just getting naked together
Would be a start,
From there
We can go anywhere.

Rich And Poor

Oh, we could be really really rich
Or really really poor
From fickle Fortune's door.
Most likely some middle niche
Our own efforts marry...
Anyway, those shopping carts
Look really really heavy.

Your Castle

Oh, your castle from the outside
Seems spacious
But inside it's kind of tiny
And nightly crowded with unknightly knights.
Weapons aside, we'd hardly make a phalanx against the kittens.
But we pay the rent,
And may as well be heaven sent.

What Am I Saying?

I can look dour,
I can look serious,
What am I saying?
I am.
I could be your bodyguard,
I could be your
Knight in shining armor.
What am I saying?
I've got no armor,
Or much polish.


My musings for you
Are now everywhere
Under the leaf litter
Of this new forest.
Reach down,
And brush any leaf aside,
You may find one,
But more likely
Some pesky insects
I with must needs share this floor.

The Cacophony

Too muted my musings?
Blame the cacophony.
I'd need sirens to drive through all that,
And even still they won't pull over.
Maybe in the dead of night
When traffic's light
While awaiting sleep
You'll hear my tunes
With the Mockingbird's.

A Second Stanza For The Lost Song

You sighed,
"My heart doesn't yours entreat."

Mine, like a metronome
Set to double time,
Went still.


Oh, I am perverse,
But it's just too hot
To do much else
Than layabout
And write verses for you.


Some anticipation this,
I have no idea what to expect
So always prepare
For never.


You're my conversation now...
When I left the mountains
I lost my conversation...
Conversations actually.
Now, there's you.
It can be fatal not to have someone
To talk to, they say.
What do they know,
It can be Death himself
Waiting behind your Black Glass Doors.


Notes:  Lost Song...I tried to retrieve it from my dream, where it was playing perfectly...and I could still hear it as I key padded, but it faded, and faded, and was gone...the second Lost Song is an effort to make a verse from the night I had a whole lot of poems dreamed...all I had to do was awake and transcribe, but couldn't manage even one word, so illusive they were!...Oh, No Doubt...flirts are always a fail, and silly, until one works!...Rehearsal...reference the final episode of Person of Interest...a goof...Flowers...another goof...Beauty and Proportion...maybe lose 'proportion', but it was part of the conversation...a memento...Tease...if people tease you, I've heard, it's actually a sign of affection...that's a stretch, I guess, but I've gone with it...Would...reference St. Francis and St. Claire...'I and You' between different classes is the stuff of fairytales...Rich And Poor...a kind of generic sentiment...but I really wanted the 'shopping carts' pun...Your Castle...this started off grand...imagining Arthur and his Knights with the Green Knight barging in...less grand, it's truer...fond of 'phalanx against the kittens'...What Am I Saying?...a self deprecating carry over from 'unknightly knights' some point all these postings may bite one in the butt...old paper authors are full of such tales...and the clutter on their forest floor the same...The Cacophony...a revisit of the longing for quiet just to often refrain!...A Second Stanza...trying to make another stanza to the lost song...the sound of a metronome came to me as being similar to the woodblock like rhythm beats in the dream song...double time as it was a quick beat...and that to heart beats, and a poem!...Perverse...last night's Milton study uncovered that he had a long stretch of leisure through wealthy patronage...there isn't much to be said for writing, exertion wise, though Hemingway said it took an athletes does take quiet...sitting on top of Cuyamaca Peak alone silence quiet, with just that one conversation in your head...Never...I haven't got enough of contemplating 'never' yet...likely never will!'s true, I think, not talking to anyone days on end, weeks, months, is against our natures...and not having a Muse, a'd Picasso put it?...'without a girl, I'm not Picasso!'...Muses seem to reside in scary inaccessible places...


It was a virtue not to stay,
To go our headstrong and heroic way
Seeking her out at the volcano's head,
Among pack ice, or where the track had faded
Beyond the cavern of the seven sleepers
from The White Goddess
by Robert Graves

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