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Post from RICOH THETA. https://theta360.com/s/gXBMOFpz6LHOE9VNB75e06q0W?utm_source=app_theta_tumblr&utm_medium=social
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Lockdown Life 1
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Headed for the edge of the wagon #isolation #gentrificationresult
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#tuilleries #paris #rainydays (at Les Jardins de Tuilleries)
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#citynights #dreams (at Church Street (Toronto))
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#giverny #monetshouse #monetsgarden #normandy #florals #flowers (at Maison De Monet, Giverny)
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A couple.of work.in progress poems from a talented friend for intl poetry day.
A Paragon of Virtue
When tradition favours a star-crossed destiny’s superiority
over blissful domesticity, a birthing of trio coincides
/
and Heaven’s name is called out, as Ripley himself
could not believe. Tears, they don’t have.
Special children grow up incapable of outbursts, their names acquired,
corporatized. Blame Disney for the Little Mermaid, the parents said.
The obsolescence of rivalry was invented in playgrounds.
Rock, Paper, and Scissors amused, poked, and laughed.
Rock’s sparseness is rewarded with reverence, and with intimidation
he’s allied with, but nonetheless a doom.
Paper’s svelteness reigns in hiding-and-seeking,
Rock retreating,
and Scissors offending, evading
tactics, cutting straight through ulterior motives.
\
A triad of chaos equals a monolithic order.
The rest of the world fades in the background of a society of perfect appearances.
A pointing of the finger disrupts the disruption.
Witnesses dwell on this dramatization of psyches grand:
flowering stark anthuriums, untamed orchids, skull-fucking bees.
This place rocks back and forth.
Is it a baby cradled in the virile biceps of the stars?
A pendulum that oscillates between zones of cruel un-intentions.
Ahoy, anchors-away!
There it goes.
X
Inter-
sex:
The impossibility of a moment so uncanny has ceased to take form
in the minds of those involved beforehand.
Could there be a sign of reformation between parties, or a reflected
and far-reaching testimony of will to integrate within each other’s core?
A merging of beings, peeling of the scales, finding new ground
and awakening–anew, basking in the perfumes of troubled flesh.
/
On his pelvis inked, a blueprint of a surreptitious site, a spiritual maze
inescapable from omniscient eye, or one’s paranoia of an omniscient eye,
Ovaries and scrotum drop, rolls on a marbled pavement
as if Mercury was on drugs in his final journey.
\
On her omniscient eyes inked, a collection of ancient islands and creatures
still intact, illustrations of the extinct, traversing not the rigid structure
of our externalized neural membranes but the paradise
the earth once was: barren, whispering, uncorrupted.
The imagined lives in her. Not even amnesia will take that away.
The names of all the esteemed powerful men
that have conquered nations,
represented ideologies utopian and/or perverse,
and those yet to rise still perfectly memorized.
It is a script she knew well.
/
“BANG!” Grieving in his corner, gleaming in sweat, a salty tangy guilt,
from running towards a conclusion of a futility of his own demise.
His own death is not his own but of everyone and everything he ever loved.
Or is it the way around?
\
The other way around: She had been retracing her steps, fireworks blinding her sky.
Her lingering affection still sitting on the ground,
holding them together in a cunning embrace.
X
ANOTHER VERSION:
A Paragon of Virtue
When tradition favours a star-crossed destiny’s superiority
over blissful domesticity, a birthing of trio coincides.
Heaven’s name is called out, as Ripley himself could not
believe. Tears, they don’t have.
Special children grow up incapable of outbursts; their names acquired,
corporatized. Blame Disney for the Little Mermaid,
the parents said. Rivalry was invented in playgrounds;
its obsolescence squandered in homes.
Rock, Paper, and Scissors amused, poked, and laughed.
Rock’s sparseness is rewarded with reverence, and with intimidation
his ally, but nonetheless a doom. Paper���s svelteness reigns
in hiding-and-seeking, Rock retreating, and Scissors offending,
evading tactics, cutting straight through ulterior motives.
A triad of chaos equals a monolithic order.
The rest of the world fades in the background of perfect appearances.
A pointing of the finger disrupts the disruption.
Witnesses dwell on this dramatization of psyches grand:
flowering stark anthuriums, untamed orchids, skull-fucking bees.
This place rocks back and forth. Is it a baby cradled
in the virile biceps of the stars? A pendulum that oscillates
between zones of cruel un-intentions.
Ahoy, anchors-away!
There it goes.
X
Inter-
sex:
The impossibility of a moment so uncanny has ceased to take form
in the minds of those involved beforehand. Could there be a sign of reformation
between parties, or a reflected and far-reaching testimony of will
to integrate within each other’s core? A merging of beings,
peeling of scales, finding new ground and awakening–anew,
basking in the perfumes of troubled flesh.
On his pelvis inked, a blueprint of a surreptitious site,
a spiritual maze inescapable from omniscient eye,
or one’s paranoia of an omniscient eye.
Ovaries and scrotum drop, rolls on a marbled pavement
as if Mercury was on drugs in his final journey.
On her omniscient eyes inked, a collection of ancient islands and creatures still intact,
illustrations of the extinct, traversing not the rigid structure
of our externalized neural membranes but the paradise
the earth once was: barren, whispering, uncorrupted.
The imagined lives in her. Not even amnesia will take that away.
The names of all the esteemed powerful men that have conquered
nations, represented ideologies utopian and/or perverse,
and those yet to rise still perfectly memorized. It is a script
she knew well.
“BANG!”
Grieving, gleaming in shame, he sweats a tangy guilt,
after running towards a conclusion of futility, that even his own demise
doesn’t belong to him, but rather, death comes to everyone and everything he ever loved.
Or is it the way around?
The other way around:
She had been retracing her steps, fireworks blinding her sky.
Her lingering affection still sitting on the ground,
binding them together
in a cunning embrace.
X
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