The Quantumverse
It’s never about birds in poetry;
it is about our inadequate,
marrow-filled bones that
weigh us down
reminding us of the immediacy
of the dust.
It’s never about stars in poetry;
It is about drinking from the night
As from the floodwaters of Noah –
Watching the Ark pull from shore
Without you. At least you
Will not die of thirst,
Those receding lights
Your final comfort.
From Jilly’s November “Casting Bricks”
Jilly in bold, my abomination follows.
Our swan meets Nikki Papandreou,
The Greek Olympic diver
Eye to eye and nose to beak
They keep their poise and watch each other
She waddles to the edge of grace
Submerged, he breasts for air
Wings cut through air,
Arms slice through water
How fierce the thrill
That twists as one?
How strong the force
That separates them?
Jackknifed time entangles
Their fall as flight through space
Becomes reunion of bone and skin and
Hand and feather, a merging and emerging
Yet such ecstasy, transgression,
Cannot queen the body long
This body’s reaching out for that
Still point, where rise turns into fall
The ancient moment, amphibian mind –
Zeno’s paradox suspended
A moment free of up, of down, all
Movement frozen in a blue eternity
Conspirators: qbit, sarasouthwest
qbit’s Renga Challenge – Swan Dive
For Jilly’s October Casting Bricks
Our swan meets Nikki Papandreou,
The Greek Olympic diver
Brandishing a cygnet ring
Bargaining with Poseidon’s wave
“Nikki” she laughed, “suburban demi-god.”
“Prove your flipcraft of the Argonauts.”
Oh, Siren, thought he, in the face of her derision
Fifty heroes shall stand and see
A white Medusa, her neck a downy serpent –
“For Lysistrata and the Amazons!”
“Apply the wrench, my lovely wench”
The Golden Fleece denied
Head over heels, they mirror the gods
Unbounded by the sea or heaven
A Promethean dive from dizzying heights
a mythological echo and splash
Their wild swan chase to raise Atlantis,
Oysters, smoked in their beds
Ocean crossroads deal carved in stone
Volcano ash scatters the sweetest atone
Conspirators: qbit, Jilly
qbit’s Renga Challenge – Swan Dive
For Jilly’s October Casting Bricks
Our swan meets Nikki Papandreou,
The Greek Olympic diver
[Your couplet…]
[Repeat 5x]
Administration, Thoughts, Plots, Plans &tc:
Proposed as a Renga of unstructured couplets for two people, but certainly fun if folks want to do one with more people, although then we’d probably want 20 couplets instead of 10.
I’m hoping that by keeping each writer to two lines, our push/pull on each other stays strong, but leaves enough room to develop a new idea, pivot, etc.
PLEASE SIGN UP IN THE COMMENTS BELOW, and we will work out logistics and kick off the working versions in another post.
Group Renga for Jilly’s October Casting Bricks Challenge
More background and thoughts on Regna: here.
The following is a voice recording of the Renga that Charley and I wrote, called “Road of Ashes” The link to the written text is here, but it really comes alive when read out loud.
Charley and I take on The End of Times and Quo Vadis of the soul in this Renga full of vigorous language and vibrant imagery! Make sure your seat belt is fastened!
qbit has taken up this crazy challenge! I will update our ongoing collaboration through 10 couplets. Stop by and see what insanity he & I cook up! If you are interested in joining in, stop by the original post for On the Road of Ashes and let me know! This is a part of the September Challenge of Casting Bricks; join us! (plagiarized from Jilly’s blog almost verbatim)
I was on the way, on the way
and suddenly, precipitously, I wasn’t
Tourmaline voices cracked like stones in a fire
Broke my path wide into rust or grey choices
To labor as herdsman over sheep seeking knowledge
or waste my life recumbent on a hammock
Such are the sheep of Yeats
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Cry out agonies in languages better gauged
to bear pain than in lingua hominibus
Vulgate promises
That will not redeem
Poets…
View original post 40 more words
Rasta bones
Litter the rocks
Jerk scented air
Reggaes the walk
A hungry dog
Is an angry dog
The hum of meat
Vibrates the streets
We wail and gnaw
The Marleybone
S’the Mawgah dawg
We wail and moan
Knives grooving
The alleyways
Steel whets
The appetite
Hurricane Ganja
Tears Babylon’s walls
Gate of Rasta soul
Cries out One Love
Authors and Madpersons: qbit and Jilly
(plus Unindicted Co-Conspirators)
Raccoon bones
Litter the rocks
Striding through the backyard
Coyote
Snarled tracks in snow
Prowl the sliding door
Flick of a light switch
Scamper of footsteps
Cat
Is MIAow
Urine puddle
The late-night cleanup!
Dog
Is paper wolf
Barking chorus
Racing deer
The eyes, the eyes
The eyes, the eyes
Last clatter
The waning moon
Authors and Madpersons: qbit and frankjtassone
Raccoon bones
Litter the rocks
[Your couplet…]
[Repeat 5x]
Administration, Thoughts, Plots, Plans &tc:
OK, I think this is a Renga of unstructured couplets for two people, but certainly fun if folks want to do one with more people, although then we’d probably want 20 couplets instead of 10.
I’m hoping that by keeping each writer to two lines, our push/pull on each other stays strong, but leaves enough room to develop a new idea, pivot, etc.
PLEASE SIGN UP IN THE COMMENTS BELOW, and we will work out logistics and kick off the working version in another post.
This is another attempt at a group Renga, part of Jilly’s September Casting Bricks Challenge.
More background and thoughts on Regna: here.
I am but a minstrel, a singer of songs.
A righter of wrongs.
And I sing to make my mistress happy.
And I sing to bring her peace.
When my voice and my lute
do not suffice,
I unsheathe my sword
And I become….
Well, actually, sort of depressed.
Working recently
At being more honest
With myself –
It’s just a plastic sword
From one of the kid’s
Halloween costumes.
And I don’t really have a lute, it
Was more like playing air guitar.
What did she say in therapy last week?
That for once she wanted me to take
The trash out without having to ask?
Just once?
Lord I hope though
She still likes the love poems
I leave on her
Pillow.
Charley’s first half: Minstrel
qbit 