What if you already carved the entire universe

the entire universe

 

You carve your bone
you carve the row of toes
you carve the thickness of your hair
you trace the sphere of your eye
you carve the curve of the flow

You open the space for light to grow
you polish the air that swells with sound
you carve the ear that apprehends error and crime
you carve the place and the scene
you carve the men and women
that carved the ground of the past

You carve the song and the curtain
that draped your childhood
you carve the tiniest details
you stare at your carvings
you stare at shade and form

You grow like a branch
you carved that branch
you have carved the root
you have carved the earth
you have carved the light
that shines upon us all

You are the carving
you are the branch
you are the growth
you are the leaves that shiver
in the cold wide wind

You have carved the thoughts of this
you have carved the innocence of unknowing
you have carved the knowledge that you carve
you have carved this memory
you have carved this ignorance

you have carved the light
that reveals your creation
you have carved the flame
that burns the infinite

your light has carved my face
your light has made this journey

your eyes are cosmos
your eyes are tight against
my own light.

from above

poetry_of_future

They found a bulge
between Amaliegade
and Esplanaden
and it was in the news

and the hearts
shook with dread

a long sack of skin.like flesh
growing from a thin string
into an enormous
bulk

a man stood drinking the ship
in a circle of dizziness

the lights of police
and the endless of an image

no one could understand the revolution
and beauty of the bulge

it was hauled off the street
like a rainbow
as a miracle of the flame
as heresy from our pedestrian slopes

factories puffing shades
roaring with flags and chords
of iron ringing
in the suburbs

it is pronounced that this age
will collide with the pillar
stumps of science

and melancholy is a growth
like tumor
in the heads of those
that gaze             with wonder
from above.

 

 

Contemporary Poetry

us

postmodern_poem

They told me to squeeze
structure
into home
and open windows
to air out essence
see I have been obedient
shedding coats of laughter
like films of light over
a miracle of corner,
and this thing
consciousness is hanging
like dust

in the atmosphere
but we’ve
made arrangements

and passion is hard
like furniture,

mahogany and steel
like dream and real

together bound
in braid

somewhere near
the end of this

and the world
tiny pretty thing

climbs into the air
like a moth

to disappear
over the object
and become invisible
like the rest of

us.

Contemporary Poetry

arterial aerial

modern_poetry_blog_21st_Century

Cleave to that place

arterial

the vessel no the aerial

where fading flight merges

with being and life

is no longer

an only particular

thing

but interior of great

continuity

of circulation density

dripping

in center toward

multiplicity

and radiates back

into blood

the skin, your eyes, your hands

the fur of the world

at your fingertips.

Contemporary Poetry

Q&A

Poetry_for_children

Father what is bigger than the moon?
The earth my child.
Why?
Because if the earth were an empty bird’s nest,
it could fit several moons inside.

What’s bigger than the earth?
A sun my child.
Why?
Because if a sun were an orange
then the earth’d be a tiny crumb of bread.
If you were starving, which one would you pick?

What’s bigger than a sun?
A galaxy my child.
Why?
Because if a sun were a bee,
a galaxy would be a swarm of bees
flying in hypnotic circles, ellipses
and parabolas around their hive.

What’s bigger than a galaxy?
Human thought my child.
Why?
Because thought is like a net
that can catch all the bees in the universe
and put them in a jar and study their
colors, structure, venom, instincts,
language, and habits.

What’s bigger than human thought?
Emptiness my child.
Why?
Because thought is like a tiny bubble in the vast
sea of nothingness that surrounds us, leaving
little more than a local ripple on the surface
once it expires.

What’s bigger than emptiness?
Mystery my child.
Why?
Because mystery is the quality that all things
share in their being or nonbeing.

What’s bigger than mystery?
You my child… you.

- dedicated to my unborn daughter

Contemporary Poetry

Unlikely and nevertheless

modern_poem

A flower is
a knot of chiaroscuro
enlightenment entangled in a coil,
finely spread seasons of spirals,
long mournful curves
chained to moment or cycles,
it is sense in a state of song,
desire dense in dew,
a phase suspended in façade
electricity distilled in feature
a flower
is essentially unknown
some element
in petal passion perfume.

 

 

21st century Poetry

her beauty

abstract_poetry

No one could deny her beauty,
her voluptuous center
her sweet ramifications
or her essential boundaries,
no one could falsify or ruin
her alliance to what’s desirable
and good in this life,
no one dared consider,
for a second,
that her decisive form
was a mode of deception
or biased perception,
no one ever attempted
to reduce her legend
by expressing platitudes
to describe or envy her,
no one,
at any rate,
saw in her the imperfections
and failures of our troubled world,
no one doubted the primal meaning
of her existence,
no one questioned her exclusivity
as being the only radiant entity
within the greyness and vapidity
of our routines,
no one ever challenged
her status of being the pinnacle of nature,
the overt instinct of some divinity,
no one, not once, asked why
she was visualized
as the mirrored image of ecstasy,
in the end
no one was capable of dying
without returning – in their minds –
to the pure concept
of her reality.

21st century Poetry