poemimage

The visual & the poetic.

Category: Original art + digital art

In Neon Mystery, in Singularity, the Flowers Explode

Last night I walked home at eleven. Dark and cool. The streets and cafes were busy – lots of children.

Turning left, then right, I skirted the park. On my street I was startled by a sudden voice behind a large bush. A woman was photographing earwigs (feeding?) in the centres of daisies.

I’m taking care of two cats and one decided to make noise at 4:45 am to let me know she expected to be fed. I lay there trying to sleep and heard the phrase ‘in singularity the flowers explode.’ I thought it needed something so added ‘in neon mystery.’

A Sailor in Hamburg (1&2)

The quiet sailor watches the Beatles play in the Kaiserkeller bar in 1960.

He listens to a song in time out of sync

composed for the Abbey Road album

in 1969.

A song born for the future –

silently asleep

in the silence of crystal stars.

He listens above the open sea

climbing a ladder made of coal

rising from the depths –

dreaming itself

into a structure

aimed into the obsidian sky.

Like a Bird’s Crazy Beak in a Silly Cartoon

Shapes animated like a bird’s crazy beak in a silly cartoon

remind me of a seagull

blabbering at somebody, somebody who? maybe… Daffy Duck!

He comes to mind for a not complicated reason.

For some reason (in whatever year since 2014 it was) I made this GIF using the book cover.

The gold & ochre jungle leaves remind me of a B&W Humphrey Bogart movie.

In real life Humphrey Bogart was gold & ochre though some say more of a pleasing technicolour.

In real life the book is B&W & printed on cream-coloured paper.

I stand in line at the (big box) grocery store behind a guy with trees printed on his sky blue arm.

Something is in progress in the centre of the store

if the centre of the store is even there anymore.

The numbers on my receipt (dancing a Latin dance)

signify symmetry and imbalance

simultaneously, as if an omen, as if

smoke rising from an oil lamp, as if

in flight through my psyche still there

or following a jagged shoreline

to a river, thrashing in the centre of the store

if the centre of the store is even there anymore

if the river, voluminous as thunder & thrashing

hypnotized is even there anymore.

Linocut Print (of an apple) in ‘Nevermore Together’ by Steven McCabe

Harrison Street (3 GIFs)

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A summer art project: Sculpture, ‘The Cosmos’ created with youth. You are seeing half of the sculpture. Plaster gauze, rope, acrylic paint. Also balloons. I don’t know why exactly I superimposed this image over a photograph of Harrison Street. Perhaps curvilinear shapes address time. Or the shapes are somehow ancestral. Perhaps such ‘continual vegetal designs’ balance the angularity of buildings while adding human dimensions of roundness and multi-dimensionality. I don’t know. It just seemed the thing to do.

The String Tied To Your Finger

I remembered night.

How the night air felt sacred

like a string tied to my finger

reminding me

to breathe night

in the fragrance of crushed black flowers,

in the fragrance of sacred flowers.

Desire

Byzantium

Silk

Damascus

Oasis

Zero

Echoes

Kerala

Comet

Apparation

Turkish Coffee

Palm Reader

Electric Fan

Papyrus

Flood

Goya

Night Falls

You paint your eyes with infinity

I am becoming a tree

The difference between then and now visible for all to see.

Finite wood struggles in the human heart

Radiating rings enclose the wooden heart

Flowers of infinity bloom

Night falls as it must.

You paint your eyes with springtime beneath the radiating moon

Flowers of infinity bloom.

I aim for the centre of the human heart

I am becoming a tree

I am becoming a tree

The difference between then and now visible for all to see.

We also the same

Contemplating the Fate of the Druids While Thinking of Something Else