To Be Is To Communicate

 

—Poetry by Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth,
Wrexham, Wales
—Public Domain Artwork Courtesy
of Stephen Kingsnorth and Joe Nolan

 

 

MOON STRUCK

Our moon, one girl, top hand with ring—
those bones with skin scape, Scapa Flow—
but it’s the juxta, cause play, dis-play,
as if appliqué, tech applied,
to switch then pose; a question mark?
That pose, spatial relationship—
as soon as real, manipulate;
does tromp l’oeil explore some truth,
a whimsy, quirk, sum fancy take,
or ology more tablet fun—
even a symptom, pill dreams spun?

So hear me, metric, rhyme perchance,
wherever bends, deep breathing sense,
know chosen chime, run rings by type.
Orbit, thence maria sees,
still frozen knuckle, coat for chill,
but sandals, even warm flesh walk,
though soon to cycle, lunar time?
The hue of red—one takes its cue,
but only hand, blood circulate;
maybe Edam, that ball, sky high?

It could be harvest, hanging beams,
not Super Blue (nor glue if need),
but curse or, shortcut, shift and paste;
believing is not scene as seen,
but what now veiled seems reel as screened.

 

 

 

 

BOUNDARIES

To catch infinity in space
demands a booking, gallery;
a queue of viewers, tenner spent,
two minutes to absorb it all,
a selfie for the Instagram,
absurd if to assimilate
the mirrors, lights, submersible.

Kusama, polymath in art,
had troubled sixties, trying life,
another stealing her repute.
But now, as female artist’s work,
near third of world uptake is hers.
Installing lights with mirrorwork,
reflective, the experience.

In Venice, Biennale start,
she built beyond the boundary;
but thirty-on she found her place
pre-programmed by officialdom.
But if so bound or borderline
can she express the infinite?
It’s ‘60s profile scene again.

 

 

 

 The New Bucephalus
—Edgar Ende (Germany) 1961

SHADOW

So rare as window, psyche drawn—
they speak of mesmerising frame—
internal shadow laid afore,
from fearful eye, flit cloak withdrawn,
turn sunlight beaming, morning star,
so stallion tamed, but not the mind.

The surreal, Surreal classed,
Spiegel im Spiegel, mirror work,
not art prefabricated, stored;
haunch to wall, blue-eyed from foal,
the two, both Great and Head of Ox
association, myth in mix.

Kafka, Baron, Father Brown,
the mare of night, tall story, bike,
this name has long been borrowed, worn
by fiction, mystery, old lore,
then told, one generation more,
by Michael, other Ende on.

This artist told he cannot paint,
express himself, what’s in his brain;
as war destroyed his oeuvre past,
is this the mighty hemmed, cross-barred,
or Plato’s cave, where shades are played?

Like funnel flag of shipping line
or white, black field, as terror sign—
identity—so twinkle’s where?
What exploits, epic tales hear groan,
who brims in head, unstable, door,
unbolted view, dark horse alleged,
free fall of man—how Kafkaesque—
Bucephalus, rein unrestrained?

____________________

LOST IN SPACE

and off-beat dreams are de rigueur.
What rubrics rule poetic rôles
save that both mind and heart engage,
chop-logic or fresh pheromones,
some sentiment or complement—
to be is to communicate.
So listen, look and learn about,
audio, video, disco chant?

____________________

Today’s LittleNip(s):

There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.

—Marshall McLuhan

* * *

The Universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.

—Neil deGrasse Tyson

• • •

If you are on a spaceship that is traveling at the speed of light, and you turn on the headlights, does anything happen?

—Steven Wright

____________________

—Medusa. with thanks to Stephen Kingsnorth for today’s fine Ekphrastic poetry!

 

 

 

Can Pluto be made a planet again? It’s so mean
to say Pluto can’t be a planet again, just because
it’s little~
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of
Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 A reminder that

Catriona McPherson & Neil McRoberts

will read in Davis tonight, 7pm.

For info about this and other
future poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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