THE FOG OF PERFUMED FISH BREATH









the underside of leaves speak in molecules of pure air
carrying fragrances of nearby worlds.
my widespread nostrils tip down
to hold the precious scents,
transformed, behind these tunnels
to an ancient brain, to thoughts
and visions held together
with silken threads of dreaming...
a great fish, from far within my brain,
leaps with clouds of breath,
to bring old life to being;
before my seeing eyes,
the clouds of sweetest smoke
forms the firmament.
Imagination is contained and lost.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What's all this Mess all about, Alfie?....What's 'IT' all about?

Image
THIS AFTERNOON, THREE YEARS AGO, I SPENT ABOUT A HALF HOUR DISINFECTING, THEN CLEANING "IT" OF BLACK MOLD, VARIOUS FUNGI AND MILDEW.....AND DRYING THE WARPED LINEN CANVAS WITH A HAIR DRYER....JUST TO SEE WHAT THE HELL "IT" WAS 'ALL ABOUT'......THEN, SUDDENLY, '"IT" ALL CAME BACK': "WHAT IT WAS ALL ABOUT'......FEELING A BIT OF NOSTALGIA, I PHOTOGRAPHED "IT", SURROUNDED IT WITH A VIRTUAL FRAMING JOB....AND....HERE...IT "IS", UNBUCKLED AND 'RESTORED...DIGITALLY'.....AT THE TIME OF ITS CREATION.....1966, WHILE I WAS IN ONE OF PURYEAR MIMS' ART CLASSES AT VANDERBILT.....I WAS THINKING: "SOON, I WILL BE A GREAT ARTIST or WRITER or PSYCHIATRIST, or FASHIONISTA.......AND MY WORKS WILL HANG IN GALLERIES, ALL OVER THE WORLD!"..... WELL.......THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN, DID IT? I GAVE UP "PAINTING" SHORTLY THEREAFTER......CRESTFALLEN, THAT I WAS NOT 'THE NEXT BIG DEAL' AND ...
Read more

NEUROLOGICAL SYNTHESIS FROM THE COBWEBS OF TURBID OBFUSTICATION......

Image
I have relinquished my morose nature of earlier today, but the anger that was suppressed by it is kicking my cobwebs....a white moth engages a black butterfly.....by scent alone, compelled... then, distracted by others.....of millions....of subsets of  thought and perception, wherein physicality is not consciously within the realms of dreaming...the chemistry of thought, having obliterated...for a fraction of a second....the nanosecond before.....a new Universe manifests via the artfulness of intuition and false memories, to reveal the Grand Incomprehensibility. ......Such are the scribbled notes left on the pad by the bed, that the dreams might be remembered, in the shorthand of semi-consciousness...... A REMINDER FROM 'HAIR'....... "LET THE SUNSHINE IN~"  Some afternoon cheerfulness that I gave to a stranger, who, exasperated and depressed, slumped against my mailbox....The 'painting', inspired by Bruce Riley, was done with a paper clip, and some old paint...
Read more

REMEMBERING THIS POEM THAT WE READ, DURING COLLEGE DAYS, AS I ANTICIPATE THE DEATH OF THAT OLD FRIEND, WHOM I LOVED........

Thanatopsis Poem – by William Cullen Bryant (Text-Version) To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;— Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature’s teachings, while from all around— Earth and her waters, and the depths of air— Comes a still voice— Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim...
Read more