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Launched from the silo of the womb,
Controlled by initial guidance, everyone's
Abandoned to fly ballistic - we assume
A calculus of fate with course corrections.
Since every worldly force evolves a form,
A parabola describes our invariant
Resultant path, compulsion to perform
The Now as the asymptote at a moment -
Our trajectory approaching infinity.
Engorgéd youth, ascend in expectation –
Collapse in age, secrete a meager droplet.
Buffeted by chance and choice, the gravity
Of death, despite intense determination,
Again will kill our hopes to rise to orbit.
StratigraphyA layered section through the tell of the mind,
To sort the strata of a buried past.
The broken walls of old defenses bind
Us in a dungcairn we will not outlast.
Unearth the psychic potsherds, sleepless nights
Of votive offerings in the caves of fleece.
The glowing rubble of futile dreams, insights
From artifacts that promise endless peace.
Tell us about the man who left the palace
And its smoky light, who sought the way
To learn about himself, impetuous
To regain his vanished past without delay.
The cryptic sequences inscribed in ruins
Portend what he must learn to read as runes.
FoolscapThe page once folded, remains - never to be
Unblemished, the paper's grain never to regain
The purity the print conveyed to me.
The written word creates a permanent stain
Upon the brain, a pewter palimpsest
Conceals the tangled history of the mind.
The name below the title echoes the quest
Of those forever mute who are unsigned.
The flash and gaudiness of cyberspace -
Computer words can be as often scrap
As the untrodden route to inner space,
So little time for patient nibs on foolscap.
Our virtual poems inscribed in minuscule
Can reconstruct the world in majuscule.
Web ShamanThe ronin building labyrinths of icons
Flying the web's collage of liquid light
That summons us to quaff its frantic photons,
Its soaring travesty of tunneled flight.
The shaman of the fractal paradigm
Inscribes incantations only the arcanely
Skilled may deeply read in virtual time,
While shards of holograms contain ungainly
Palimpsests of pixels. Syntax hacks
Forging their hyperlinks in cryptic words,
Scriveners of the void, a vulgate that tracks
The vibrant neon space...ellipses and surds.
He seines the depths for images - mind hacking,
To curdle chaos into clots of meaning.
On Hearing Diego del GastorAmong the twisted lanes, Al-Andalus
Is home and rack for gypsies bred to fear
From years of heartless death and cruel abuse,
Their sorrows unappeased by loves that sear.
This wail and beat of passion without hope,
The stoic pain and dignity of songs
Vented to express a universal trope,
Defying the death that magnifies the wrongs.
A guitar whose silver frets ordain the pitch,
The shadows mass, the spruce and cypress weep.
He strops a razor on our nerves, with rich
Rough rasps, intense and brutal in their sweep.
A keening howl of shredded chords - this his
Pulsing cry - the blackened sounds - of that which IS.
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