She is Praying Too

.
..

..
.

the Farmer Prays for Rain and


its atoms, its spheres/ come negligible specks,
sparks in proportion to/ a façade wavy as
sine curves, as... kestrels circling the Yonghegong.

As kitchen utensils or sharp blades of wheat
suspended in a shadowless clarity of
metaphysical illumination. As only

sparks from trails of radiant
birds soaring through ornamental planets...
immersed in light so absolute that its satellites

are now reduced to thin lines resembling a soft shoe,
its laces/ unruly as the moon is true. And its blue,
its azure heart, its actual pulsating blue, becomes

laced with minor flecks of vast shards of rain.
not white rain, or green-like-Prell-rain-- no.
Soft rains will come/ & letters from god, dropt. Still.

Ain't nothin' shakin' but the leaves on the trees.


--Marty Esworthy, 2010

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

july, july, july, july, july, july

 

 

 

 

Spirit of the Literary, Watching

With Six Stranded Whales, Indeed!



.
.
.
.
.
Ci sono molti subtexts:
either the young girl is thinking of the ghost,
or the ghost is thinking of Ng. Bold ambiguous shapes
and colors (bit o' honey, blue pareu, phosporescent greenish sparks
on a mauvy background) intensify the eerie atmosphere and enigmatic
quality of the image. There is a wing above the meat thermometer,
to the left of the cup. Assuming this to be true,
What/ hath Gödel wrought?

That is not what I meant to say. That is not at all
what I had intended to picture. Nope.
Would that I coulda wrought better!

And don't even get me started
on the bizzaro
line breaks. C'est la vie, no?

Oy! Gödel would have seen a reason for living in a blog like this.

Julio, Julio, Julio

crumpled paper series

crumpled paper series

crumpled paper series

Girl With a Pearl Necklace

so if it's 4 in the morning &
i'm tlakin' to the mstard--
& that can't be good

so what if y'know, that-- or
if-- vermeer used cameratas
back in the day. I mean
sheesh! 4 in the morning &
i'm tlakin' to the mstard,
that can't be good.

A bootleg postcard-- the adventure begins

When the World Ends, the Adventure Yowsas!

When the World Ends, Our
Greatest Adventure Begins.

Yowsa!
So here’s to you Mrs. Robinsong. It’s Spring, what can
I say? Sun’s shining, birds warble. Pippa passes.

Sun Yat-sen was a uniting figure in post-Imperial China.
In a flea market in Taiwan, I come across what appears
to be a bootleg postcard. Words & music by Barry Yorganev. (?)
I think that's the name, i remember his style. Naturally
I confront the owners. At first, they’re blasé.

Not for long.

They call me a white devil (it stings like a butterfly).
I blush. “All words belong to all people!” they shriek.

Agh! Li Po said that. But, Sun had not been trained
in the classics, and the gentry would not accept Sun into
their circles. So-- Generalissimo Sun began to call for the
abolition of the monarchy and the establishment of
a republic. Hey, what would you do, dear?

Even now, that aforementioned shriek haunts me.

Still, Sun's portrait adorns Taiwan’s NT$100 bill.

February Fury

 

 

 

The Boxes of Eastwick

Boxing Day, origins & poetri

Boxing Day, presumably, started in England in the Middle Ages.
So... Many scholars believe that the holiday was created
because servants were required to work on Christmas
but had the following day off.

The following day, when they were leaving to return to their families, their employers would present them with gifts (enclosed, like, you know-- in boxes).

And a good time was had by all.

It was Dan Propper's contention that, in a world of inverse enclosure, a matchbox might serve as a prison for the entire universe.

Finally, it's said that John of Houten is credited with having made the very first box back in 786. A.D.

See:
http://www.webspawner.com/users/morenewpoetri/