by
fillière
Categories: UncategorizedTags: Being, Creativity, Funny Bone, Metaphor, Poem, Poetry, Writing
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Tag: Poetry
Mordent Figment
Today my pen challenges
for a poem that is not just another scar or bruise
but a true and innocent gaiety.
I know I will only find it
where the given exceeds desire and need,
where senses are freed from all anxiety.
But my pen is an idealist,
an indelible fanatic, a razor-edged puritan, poor thing,
dreaming of calligraphic ecstasy.
Like me
it will have to seem to live
with music of a mordent theme.
Collage 6-Pack
If you count the edges of the chopped segments of abstract markings you can find a dozen pieces out of which this image was assembled and pasted down. I think of it as an innovation on a kind of centaur. Great fun to do such a wild compositional search-and-find assemblage.
Rumour of Humour 3
The way we feed off one another, the way organisms feed off each other is endlessly fascinating.
Window Ledge Poetry
A bathroom window ledge cut-glass object, simple, light filled, grand.
Dream World
A dream is most often, or at least mine are, like a metamorphosing octopus, a non-stop serial segue of mutations in being, syncronous with the suspension of logic and time. And the dismissal of happily ever after is another function of most of my dreams.
fillière 