The Whistled Sound of Words

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock, Antioch

UBU IMPERATOR
—Neil Ellman, Livingston, NJ

(after the painting by Max Ernst)
 

Ubu, the king
commander of legions and lunatics
absolute of absolutes
infallible head of the church he owns
most potent of potentates
poet, artist, financier to the bourgeoisie
most magnanimous magnate on earth
as well as on the moon
his majesty’s clothes once silk
are made of glass
his flesh and bones are made of brick
spinning like a top
his highborn head leans right
then left
he wobbles, tottles, prays
that he can keep it on.

_______________________

DREAMING WOMEN
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Yayoi Kusama)


I dream of women, they of me
their curves, the corners
of their open mouths
the angle of their breasts
and space between their words
and thighs

how my thoughts are filled
with the fullness of their flesh
mine theirs
I know what they must want
their dreams of me
are whispered on their skin

we dream each other’s dreams
know each other’s appetite
for mindless love
I imagine that they are real
they imagine me
imagining them.

_______________________

THEY HAVE SLEPT IN THE FOREST TOO LONG
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Max Ernst)


They have slept among the maples and the elms
too long to comprehend they aren’t men
becoming trees themselves.

Where there was blood, now sap
where skin, now bark
feet replaced by spreading roots.

It only seems that they can speak
when the wind impersonates
the whistled sound of words.

They can neither see nor hear
but wonder why they can’t wander
through the fields as free as men.

Such the price they paid to sleep and dream
that they could live two hundred years
as wood before they fall and die.

______________________

GHOST STATION
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Ed Ruscha)


The ghosts of the stationmasters appear
among translucent walls and eaves.
The sign says welcome to the other side
you have arrived at your destination
unintended perhaps
but where you were meant to be.
You can see through us and we through you
old friends who never met.
You have become a figment of a former self
no pigment other than the white of endless time.
After here, the tracks fade, as will you.
This is the end of the line.

—Photo by Robert Lee Haycock

OF THIS MEN SHALL KNOW NOTHING
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Max Ernst)
 

Knowing nothing
they don’t know
of this or that
or anything
worth knowing of.

To know is to be
or not to be
something
other than what
they are.

They know of life
not death
the evening meal
not god
stars, not eternity.

They shall not know
for they can’t
because they are
what they are
and nothing more.

_____________________

YOU CAN'T NOT DANCE
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Gerry Bergstein)
 

You can’t not dance
volcanoes don’t
nor does the earth
nor elephants
I don’t.

who says I can’t
not dance
do the waltz or bunny hop
not that I can’t
I won’t

make a fool of myself
upon the floor
while others watch
and the earth stands still
don’t ask again
I really, really won’t.

______________________

SIGN FOR A SCHOOL OF MONSTERS
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Max Ernst)
 

INVISIBLE FENCE, it says,
the children are at work
silently at their desks
training to terrorize the world.
QUIET PLEASE
BEWARE the three-headed dog
gnawing at some bones.
BEWARE the Jabberwock
and Borogove
the cyclopean hulk
Behemoth, Leviathan and troll
ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
eviscerated and eaten
to the fullest extent of the law.

_______________________

Today's LittleNip:

DISASTERS OF MYSTICISM
—Neil Ellman

(after the painting by Roberto Matta Echaurren)


As predicted, prophesied
through séance-horns
and tarot cards
in kabalistic rites
disasters loom
the life-lines end
In the palm of a hand
the universe expands
then ends
in a ball of string.

“Yes,” the Ouija board declares
“Yes,” the tea leaves say,
disasters displayed
in a crystal ball
will come to pass
as they always have.

_______________________

—Medusa

 —Photo by Robert Lee Haycock