POETIC LICENSES

  I've spent enough time in my Dark Labyrinth.........and have heard from pink-faced Hittite griffins that watch from behind dark clouds, that I need a little honey with the whey in my golden bowl.......where are those bread crumbs that I left along the way, Petronius? I'm hungry for some sweet nectar and a cake of manna, be it bdellium....be it but the whooshing of butterfly wings.......   Gold and onyx you may know, but do you know what bdellium gum is? The land of Havilah had all three. It was obviously precious, being mentioned with the onyx stone and gold. It must have been known to the Israelites, because Moses compared the appearance of manna to bdellium gum.  This aromatic gum was very much prized in antiquity, being held in high esteem by both Jews and Gentiles. The gum came from a tree, and, according to Pliny, was transparent, waxy, and oily to the touch. It was fragrant to a considerable distance around, having an aroma and taste like that of myrrh but wea...

  HERE'S HOW I WALK ON THE MOON.........'Giant Steps' is 'What you take' 11:13 pm.....On Staring at the Moon from the 'attic' window: ["There is no dark side of the moon, really"] Matter of fact....it's All dark. "The only thing that makes it look 'light' is the sun..." [Brain Damage, Eclipse: Pink Floyd] ....... Walk on the beach, with a blunt in your fingers, then, as the moon turns red, jump some synapses & ponder the origins of mystic fantasies; for, as the sky goes black, under this self-hypnotic spell, our ancient brains signal the newer cortexes... that the stars are pinholes in a velvet, dark Cosmos..... then pass, don't bogart, that joint..... It takes a long, long time to disregard preconceptions.. passed, for countless generations, within the coils of DNA.... Whoever claimed that 'the sleeper must awaken'? The bloodshot eyes, turning blue from the 'spice', melange?

THE 'NEEDING SUBTITILES' COLLOQUIAL LANGUAGE OF SHAMELESS URBAN AMERICA RIVALS THE MANCHESTER COCKNEYS'  THAT WERE A BIT 'GREEK TO ME' 6 DECADES AGO.... "Where's the dickspoon, not the knisport, you bung-scraper! If'di wnated a uterine souffle, I'd still be muffing yer old lady, Liam! If I'd wanted a Matthew, I'd have called 'em...Wher's Bomer when 'ya need your leg shook!"

just don't open 'all' the doors...at the same time......'channel'.....don't 'flood'.....But, what if 'it's only on 'paper'? Yeah...like the bird's song is 'only in the air'.....sure! The wren that sings the same song that other wrens chirp....blends  into the legato of another day......it is the wren that sings a far different tune that stands out in the ubiquitous chatter.....It's also the bird that lands in the crosshairs, goes 'mateless' ...with no progeny.....It is by happenstance and chance encounters that complex systems evolve.......and survive, by the appealingness of their artfulness.....It DOES help...'to be pretty', of course......enough digression.....the caffeine's 'kicking in'......I see some rooms that I've not visited in a while....."Hello, anybody there?'.....well, 'anybody that's still 'awake'!" My hands have never been 'clasped in prayer...

More from the 'basement boxes'.....a page from my 1st book (attempt), that was assembled from correspondence done during summer 'recesses' from college, wherein I usually had plenty of time to write, draw, paint and collage....before returning to University, to spend months in more academic pursuits........I never showed any of this largesse of words to Donald Davidson, Cleanth Brooks, Dr. Finney or Robert Penn Warren.....thinking they just weren't 'hip' enough for my post-Agrarian jumbles of words and pictures....cut, sliced, glued and pasted, bound...and, generally, tossed to the trash or burned as ritual sacrifices.....the 'blood of the poet' mindset........toss the paper blood to the burning embers of total frustration, don some strange costuming, and walk...alone....on the blackest nights.....to the all night eateries.....where, 'playing the artiste', i could write on napkins, wipe ketchup from my lips...as blood....then ignite the napk...

Let's get this straight......It's Easter......So, we steal the mama bunny's unhatched sugar eggs, hoarding as many as we can.....then hide them from one another, in the spirit of Christian generosity....again, hoarding as many as possible in our hands, pockets and woven straw baskets.....to celebrate the betrayal, torture and killing of Mary's illegitimate bastard son by an imaginary God......Have I got this right? Then, we pick out our favorite colors and flavors of these, leaving the licorice and asparagus-flavored ones for 'the others'.......keeping the less-desirable ones, to fuse together into a clump of sucrose pastel gunk to toss to the yard birds, hungry for the sunflower seeds that we forgot to give them....last Easter......Yes...I think I've 'got it'!