Out of nothing
to take the ethereal and bind it to paper.
to replicate rawness
manifest beauty and tragedy
and to bind in even a miniscule way
a mutual impact shared amongst those who read
is the greatest gift we all possess.
June Gromis
June Gromis
Hour 23 (2020)
a mort is a fellow
whose colored bright yellow
he sports a loud bellow
and drinks limoncello
he sits on my porch
with his liquor and borscht
and scorches my visitors with a blowtorch
Hour 22 (2020)
through the wet rocks
on to the sand
the island’s landing
to the center
the island’s portal
into the wet rocks
on to the sand
the island’s landing
to the center
the island’s portal
stand outstretched, bathed in sun
until the day is done
without sun the cycle trudges on
Hour 21 (2020)
release from the clutches of consciousness
into slumber:
the glistening black void that rests the body
that ends constant tire and dishevelement.
When the words no longer have to fall clumsily on to the monitor
but can flow freely beyond meaning and recognition
Hour 20 (2020)
flickering led candles
sustained by lithium cores
illuminate bamboo buddha
draw out his features
carvings, faiding in and out of focus
consciousness, faiding in and out of awareness
Hour 19 (2020)
A cog in the war machine, a link in the chain
A drop in the canteen or one in the rain
A petal in the daisy, a ray in the sun
In each case the many come together as one
Hour 18 (2020)
Vesak
a sea of maroon and orange robes
incense smoke wafts through the sky
chanting imprints on the mind
step by step in mindfullness
soft feet against sprawling carpet
tales of the dhamma spun beneath
clarity above
Hour 17 (2020)
B.B. King – Live at the Regal
a wine colored vynl sticks out of my shelfs multicolored media jungle
its printed in big letters beneath
in red hot motion:
the blues messiah, guitar slung over one shoulder
belting out pure sorrow
embellished by yelping sax
under the crackle and pop that coats the soundscape
when finally: BEAAM
the guitar sings out in smooth lamentation.
unbridled sonic voodooo
unleashed on my unkept bedroom
Hour 16 (2020)
bodies converging
through the hopelessly entangled web
of furtive glances,
coffee shop catastrophes,
crashing crescendos of passion and negliegence
melancholy and softness
harshness and rage;
a deranged drama that unravels us
piece by aching piece – –
yet we keep hungrily pursuing the next act
chasing phantoms of our collective expectations
hoping for something real
somebody real
that we may feel the unified beating of emboldened hearts and honest souls:
unique fragments becoming a whole:
the crux of our lives
Hour 15 (2020)
Take off through the clouds
dipped in honey yellows and flamingo pinks
the aeroplane a white swan diving into a pond of spectral delights
the beauty of human invention on the outside
turmoil on the inside:
spilled drinks, extended seats, crying toddlers.
oh to be the swan and not the passenger!