Hope Chest
The box full of things - unnamed as they are -
hold the history of place in the reflection imposed surface
The sun comes from behind eclipse - it
momentarily explodes - loses itself - becomes a break in the lack of air
This is opening - a seam of paper tape - a fold
sun echoing in pulp - in dust
What are these broken lines of thought
burning a hole in the universe of a closet - they flap like broken doves
Beak cracks - the rubble of it - a light bearing
fruit - rotting and burning and searing the faces of memory
Showing posts with label fruit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fruit. Show all posts
04 February 2017
22 October 2016
Poem-A-Day #236 : The Spot of Our Sanity
The Spot of Our Sanity
The soft spot of our sanity - when pressed like a plum - gives its black juices to our fingers
Here is the sound of singing the brush of fabric against goosefleshed arm - it radiates heat
The spot will well up - saturation point like floodwaters filling the soil - will eventually give
Thumb through skin through meats - the smell of rotting rose petals - yellow beneath and pitted
The soft spot of our sanity - when pressed like a plum - gives its black juices to our fingers
Here is the sound of singing the brush of fabric against goosefleshed arm - it radiates heat
The spot will well up - saturation point like floodwaters filling the soil - will eventually give
Thumb through skin through meats - the smell of rotting rose petals - yellow beneath and pitted
28 September 2012
THIS!
THIS!
1) Faking It: Manipulated Photography Before Photoshop
2) Fruit Salad Tree
A fruit salad tree, developed by the West Family, who established the Fruit Salad Tree Company in 1990, in New England, New South Wales, Australia, bears up to six different fruits of the same family on the one plant. All fruits retain their own individuality, with staggered ripening times.
There are four types the company offers: stone fruit, citrus, all-apple, all-nashi. You can mix and match and even list your preference in order of the fruit you want dominant on the tree. So far only available in Australia.
3) Stoker
1) Faking It: Manipulated Photography Before Photoshop
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| [Room With Eye] 1930 Maurice Tabard |
2) Fruit Salad Tree
From their website:
A fruit salad tree, developed by the West Family, who established the Fruit Salad Tree Company in 1990, in New England, New South Wales, Australia, bears up to six different fruits of the same family on the one plant. All fruits retain their own individuality, with staggered ripening times.
There are four types the company offers: stone fruit, citrus, all-apple, all-nashi. You can mix and match and even list your preference in order of the fruit you want dominant on the tree. So far only available in Australia.
3) Stoker
Oldboy is one of my favorite weird movies. Director Chan-wook Park is bringing his particular brand of awesome to the US with Nicole Kidman in tow. Stoker looks creepy. Maybe incestuous? No matter it will be bat-shit great.
12 September 2010
Lekach
Lekach 9/12
Apples make a cork noise – a screw down into the wine neck noise
and the metal slice goes through the skin – it is popping
it is splitting – separating – a pulling wound that is red
and it is coating in honey and filling the plates
It smells like fall – like leaves on the sidewalk and the rain falling
over the grasses
Tongue burns the white brown and the golden mass fills the cells
it makes everything burn brighter – makes your nose
skim the surfaces for familiarity – each section leaves
a noise on the surface of the ceramic plate
Each core squares firmly on the wooden plane – and sits
darkly holding its seeds
Apples make a cork noise – a screw down into the wine neck noise
and the metal slice goes through the skin – it is popping
it is splitting – separating – a pulling wound that is red
and it is coating in honey and filling the plates
It smells like fall – like leaves on the sidewalk and the rain falling
over the grasses
Tongue burns the white brown and the golden mass fills the cells
it makes everything burn brighter – makes your nose
skim the surfaces for familiarity – each section leaves
a noise on the surface of the ceramic plate
Each core squares firmly on the wooden plane – and sits
darkly holding its seeds
25 June 2010
Strawberry
Strawberry 6/25
crawling white (popularly so called) flower
bag-shaped receptacle starting green moves to redness
juicy acid pulp dotted over with tiny acorns
crushed with sugar cream poured into bowls
the smaller wood kinds creep at tree feet
crawling white (popularly so called) flower
bag-shaped receptacle starting green moves to redness
juicy acid pulp dotted over with tiny acorns
crushed with sugar cream poured into bowls
the smaller wood kinds creep at tree feet
30 May 2010
Prickly
I went on a pear kick for a second.
The weird texture of the fruit is fascinating to me.
The shape, color, smell. Fascinating.
Prickly 5/30
You hold the pear in your hand
and it is mutable the skin is poking
Quicksilver flesh rising in peaks
soundwaves on water a green range
filling the spaces in your hand
The weird texture of the fruit is fascinating to me.
The shape, color, smell. Fascinating.
Prickly 5/30
You hold the pear in your hand
and it is mutable the skin is poking
Quicksilver flesh rising in peaks
soundwaves on water a green range
filling the spaces in your hand
28 May 2010
Confessional
These strange surrealist poems are what I consider dreams in word form. They resonate in a strange deep place for me. There are connective threads in them but they are tenuous.
Confessional 5/28
I say I want curtains to keep out the sun keep the rooms cool protect ourselves from summer and the bracing swarm of humidity
Dark wood-lined and smelling of oranges the box is always this damp - a tomb - a calm sigh from my mother - a metal grate a preacher
I crawl through the sharp inclined tunnel of blackness in my sleep and see into a valley of searing greens there is a tree filled with pears
What I mean to say is that I find myself thrashing in water while I sleep that the water is my bed and my bed seems to be made of bones
Pear flesh feels like sand soaked in cherries - harder - pearls - smaller - spider eggs - I feel like I am popping everything
And the sun always comes in year round it is light - a growing thing - but it does blind
I am n love with the idea of being in love I don't understand a picnic from a parade - there s a rose bush taller than Empire State and I am clipping the thorns...
Confessional 5/28
I say I want curtains to keep out the sun keep the rooms cool protect ourselves from summer and the bracing swarm of humidity
Dark wood-lined and smelling of oranges the box is always this damp - a tomb - a calm sigh from my mother - a metal grate a preacher
I crawl through the sharp inclined tunnel of blackness in my sleep and see into a valley of searing greens there is a tree filled with pears
What I mean to say is that I find myself thrashing in water while I sleep that the water is my bed and my bed seems to be made of bones
Pear flesh feels like sand soaked in cherries - harder - pearls - smaller - spider eggs - I feel like I am popping everything
And the sun always comes in year round it is light - a growing thing - but it does blind
I am n love with the idea of being in love I don't understand a picnic from a parade - there s a rose bush taller than Empire State and I am clipping the thorns...
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