Collections & Art

3/12/2015

As of today, I began to SLOWLY transfer my poetry and other compilations previously listed in my old blogger site.  I plan to copy/paste just a few pieces at a time while I am learning and getting acclimated to the workings of WordPress tools.  Cheers!

 syl3


Poetry, Essay, Art, & Other Works compiled/transferred from old blog ~ 


Battle Wounds – 2013

No reprieve, once healed
agenda is to cut again –
becoming common, somewhat normal –
each cut, pain no longer
recognized.

Scars, wounds visible
others, critical…chronic –
never seen, nor felt to the touch –
pretending, hopeful of prayer, or magic…
fantasize, fantastical  in thought…
are the scars still there?

Scan deeper – take a picture
my skin, tissues vanish somewhat –
becoming transparent
allowing my wounds to illuminate
taking center stage in my priceless portrait.

 

Black Hole

Dead matter – neurons misfire
White turns black
Empty, void of repair

Overworked cellular
Overtime labor begun
Lesions come, they go
This one lingered, trespassed
De-faced, fade to black
Despite protests

Daunting, treacherous terrain
Threatening nearby white matter
Memory battles – cognitive ghosts

Deceptive, live versus dead
Defend and protect
As Commander in chief
I give the orders

Build a great wall against –
All around this dark enemy
Contain the prisoner
A life-sentence
Within the hole.

 

ELEGY FOR A MOUSEKETEER: A Tribute to Annette Funicello ~  (2013 = original draft/ final draft edited/posted in new blog archives May 2017)

I didn’t exist…not yet
when she smiled –
donning black felt mouse ears
black and white images on
Zenith television sets
viewed globally by millions
in happy homes –
adored – all American
a member of the kiddie club.

I didn’t exist… not quite
when she smiled –
donning swimsuits on surfboards
colorful, sunny images in
movie theaters
viewed globally by millions
of happy, hopeful teens –
admired – girl next door
a member of the boomer club.

I met her after school…and Sunday evenings
when I smiled –
entranced with re-runs of black felt mouse ears
and beach blanket fun on a
Sony television set
viewed by me – only me
happy, healthy, hopeful –
forever youthful – timeless?
a member of my club now.

I couldn’t comprehend MS or her pain
when she smiled
donning leg braces, wheels, or a cane
black and white images in
print – colorful in life
on television sets
viewed by millions
of distraught boomers – mouseketeers
A member of the disabled club.

I exist – I know her well
we all smile for her, with her, because of her
bittersweet death, understanding now –
donning chairs with wheels, braces, canes
black and white, color images imbedded
in hearts and minds
embraced by millions
of boomer mouseketeers and
generation X, Y…and others like me…
a fellow member of the MS club – a fellow MSketeer.

 

MADNESS – 2013

Beautiful complexity
Attempting to marry the blur of
Black notes on paper in front of me to
The smooth ivory beneath my fingertips
Attempting to fuse notes, keys, and tempo
As it is written –
As it is meant to be played –
As it is meant to be heard –

Chaos, the sublime fusion
Intrinsic force that is madness –
Mozart…

Madness and the art within him,
Mozart – a haunting partnership –
Madness won, took over the man
Ferocious compositions, exquisite music
Led sadly, quickly into a pauper’s grave
Leaving behind collections of art –
Priceless and eternal

             Mozart…

At my piano, my mind wanders, yet
I begin to play, attempting to commune wit
The instrument, the music –
Mozart…

Halting, I linger over the notes, unfamiliar parts
Haunting sonata.  Perplexed, I wonder…
What the hell was he thinking when he wrote this?
Why did he write in this manner?
Was he driven by a muse or some unknown ghost?
What inherent madness forced this frenetic pace?
Madness…
Mad art…
Mozart…
Mozart…
Mozart…

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