Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Imunuri Prompt: Elemental - Zephyr

scribe an offering 
inspired by the element of air, squall, zephyr

what blows in you, what moves you INSISTENTLY, what breathes, and what are you pushing with the force of your air? what, if lifted in cyclone, would be transported by your vortical spire? write zephyr.


Tags: zephyr, epic-earth, poem, <poet's moniker>

*****
Epic-Earth on Imunuri: An ongoing series of earth-related prompts as part of an Imunuri experiment to dwell repeatedly on a theme and its riffs, and/or the possible poetry challenge, bit by bit, of producing an epic or body of poems...


Image source:  Occluded mesocyclone tornado, Oklahoma, 1999. Public Domain, NOAA

soulweed



              in the
                kernel ball spitwad seed
            of my systeminstructions aka soulweed
                       there is no jealous yammer. not even a hum. kneel
              ing lightly before liftoff, between breaths, i feel the curve of death
       slice me in frozen airpuff in between. a guillotine of clarity. earth curve launch
es me to spin. before that. in the space between. my fingers float for nano. in deed,
all i am is this no-hum freeze. something keen and queer about the nobreath
nohum scene. you could not tell if i were faltering or in a state of piquante grace. i
brace for life, the way each breath is a womb, each lungfill a birth, launching me
out to life, a crisis of motion temporarily animating this ice queen sheen. i wait to
be returned to my originary still and silent clarity. i wait to be returned to what has
passed before this birth and what will spin my sky after i die, this serene. until
then, i keen in a quiet, elaborate parody, of living. underneath, beneath the breath,
sense it still, this still silent ellipse into which everything vanishes and from which
all arises. and returns. this no-rhythm rhythm of gift and release, i crawl back now,
in silent revery, returning too as a windless kite to deathless earth, a long smooth
slide back to birth. and before then too, before the big bang clang: the waveless
sea, the mirthless dearth. The emptiless reptile, the eyeless peak.  The grouchless sunken path to breach. Before all motion, before all time, before thunder and
cloud and red dawn sky. Before all this, and after too, I swim in a waterless 
eddy of leaking peace. Sweltering in tuneless shrill. Amorphous fog without any sense. I 
lurch in the no-words-now-for-what-is-not

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Early Robin

Within 
Mt. Tamalpais
amphitheater

An early robin
brought word

“God has pardoned us”
&
angels lifted our shame

Allowed us to taste
purple huckleberries again.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Fisherman's lull

Fisherman’s lull


Days with no waves
when
content
to play out there
to float
to rock
throughout
daylight
without talk
in the fisherman’s lull
even surf given
gravity tug
- blue color all -
coot mute.