Friday, February 25, 2011

Chiccoreal's Romantic pOeMs


watch our Temples burst with Sweet nectar
love flies past to reache our common sector
ready Nike, who so willing and more than able
to come to the fine dining room table
our dramatic romance, headless one, let's dance
and display our vivid luminosity our stupor'd trance
the hanging bower of flowers submit
to the humid breezes remit
freely releasing the scented essence to recover
ours to discover these two lovers from cover to cover
in aloes she rose to the mystics hidden alcoves in May
Lotus bloomed in profusion an aromatic feast today
fountains gurgled soft water music as windchimes lightly sound
echoing the orchestration through the country to downtown
in fitfull throes the artistic armours heat their hearts of passion
spontaneously throwing red paint at primed canvas in savage fashion

pining to hold within her arms
the flesh cries touch me til I'm warm
feeling alive for the first time or so
a connection she made lost long ago
now this long face of a pillow would not be silent buffering
as quiet as the dead in their muted suffering
silent tears still stayed part of her fine patina

overstuffed once and with downyheaded desiring
when did our tables turn; love was never tiring
when did yours become something other than mine
what hour of the day did your turn your head in kind
Could you do it my way by way of an all day fantasy ride?
when you walked past me so abruptly, so quickly the tide?
to breakup instead of bringing bakeoven bread to the masses?
certainly I did want to try those fine tasting wares possesses
my neck kept turning as you walked up the stairs which were out of bounds
spiralling out of control I cried out in agony dont leave me alone hounds
what spin doctor, the silent treatment operation of such a lengthy duration
did you not Figure out that we are lost withou the magic 8 configuration
reconstructured by perpetual motion machines and flying goddess figurines
reconstituted orange juice and other things create a constant transfiguration

in the upper reaches great heights for you I touched base
which stood as high as the highest height on Mt Ararat's face
which had wound its way all the way to the divine mountain top
around the colliseum around the partheneon it took time to stop
all the way around the whole world you flew
to hold me close to your heart this i knew!


our hearts must not breaked a sweat
must keep up the pace
keep it coming love
keep it commonlaw
matrimonial bliss
dwell on the aspects of smelling salts
as I feel resigned to feel faint
never feined or faked
swoons you know you do it for me
as I awaited by the beach to smell the ocean full of fine swells
but take away the heartache each day from the willow tree bark
a pill to hold between your legs when you forget you use to do this
a relief from the pain of days and nights without you
each day is a gift I'm grafting more "u's"
by the power that compells me this day at the River of Joy
conjoined in this way classic music a must
as the guitarist plays his heart on strings
through the night
as the morning sun-played light on the golden hills
this is our morning of our infinity
eternity
to come

speak of those sweet things then repeat them when necessary never stop


that propel me to feel our unity as a thought


our hearts tears were jagged then
now full of paradise
pineapple and green coconut milk
the tribe spears this nectar
how refreshing a renewal of sunburst energy

as the waterfall flows out in
ever searching for the green coconut milk
first appeared in cashmere
chambers of don juan
and cloches entrances
shadows whisper our pleasures
our image plainly silhouetted
remind us soon

held close to my chest my lover's head

walked steadily and determinedly up the hill
ready to partake in the festivities heard there
staring dreamily away a moment to reflect
our eyes held the unearthed secrets
a dance en pointe
pinpoints of dots plunged through the deep
to meet us
for our
stellar brilliance
illuminated and made merry
every evening

over a bottle of memories
dark as night his eyes
the stars active
a role in all this
played their magic
a spell until conjuncture
a tug upon the strings
returned a bevy of beauties; treasures all
beyond knowing reason or rhyme
sweet pomegrantes and heady citrus
Castille baths in iron filligree tubs
fresh sxents were everywhere

a pungent purity as fresh as my lover's breath
long lost chilvary returned to find melady
Spanish eons of legions love captured
in the brief burnish red silken cord
attachment to infinity
on my finger he left me an invisible ring
which shone indigo blue-violet

jj

Chiccoreal's Romantic pOeMs


entwined souls bind us eternally together
grapewreath handbands of flowering heather
Two Temples arched and crowned appointment
Tis Love! the midnight most powerful ointment

jj

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Magpie #54 "The Missing *****"


The landscape looked like lock down
askew I knew not what
Now I ask you!
Transformational gestalt
or Gestational generations
disassembled constructs
and piecemeal hash
sameday semblance of disorder
thought provoking rebellions
thoroughly revolutionary

Our page is still stuck on freeze
stop-start stark realism
dumbfounded
nonfunctional
disarray

into blight the slathering fungal trees
belch bubbles a bloated oasis of decay
the musing was our missing time
with only our infirmary into this infinity
lined with nonsense lines
withdrawn by shadows
by censors too bored to push pen
cast from the absinthe of malice vase
the vacationing vacancy rate plummeting
hot air blew from the sun's mouth
the moon shouting "Unfair!"
crestfallen new mown snow barely there
grappled with grappling hooks
hang in there baby!
in the woolly and wobbly dessert
reverse image camels
in the air the whirligig birds ate their words
and Cocoa Puff came back to roost on the tower
"Kaw Kaw KoKoPuffs!"
the search was over
the woods like the words showed up dishevelled
amid the ganglion spectators
everything seemed irrelevant
"avoid the void at all costs!"
who withdrew their offer
they brought to the table?
a decaying sort of shelf life anyhow
not half as many shrewd shrews showed up
all was not well
steady as ever, steady as she goes
save for gaunt mirrored image self
left on the selfless place
EGO-free for 50 days

no new slaves for the new age
piped in detachment by demand
the opiate of the people
giving little room for error
leaving even less for success
for the waving waning masses
blessed by hexes
hoaxed by false oaths
and little red rooster boxes

the pieces certainly
fell into place
when you were there
where did you go?
when did you go?
here's the steeple
where's all the people?

the puzzle of the 10,000 missing
the people pulled together
put back the fallen down and bent space
then there was always the grotty issue
the shallow well
definitely bats and belfry
an incongruity here

Nobody Doesn't Live Here Anymore
Neither does Alice or Bob
so what does it all mean doc
they'll be back?
they'll do it?
who knows! if only one from the other
who knew each very well or some other
they weren't meant to be bent while making it
not fitting in
nor filling in
the ceiling low on cement and brain cells
toppled out on top of the carnage
but not completely unhinged either
one missing piece left to save
The Missing Piece eternal
Most Confidential!

While in the Bend
The 70's Coffeehouse
Mateus Bottles alight with old flames
all the multi-colours of the rainbow
and good arch-angel lighting
dripping wax their faces of coloured wax
melting onto the corrugated page
scribblers blotter at largess
yes that is all it would take
in the wake of madness

nonsense
underfoot
kicked up dust
our old familiar
and dirty snotty faces
glitches laid traps
we as Trappist monks
in our search for self

trample of combat boots
rustle of silk taffeta organza
black ops art department
wed LOVE and WAR
with cut and paste trigger-fingers
hid the pieces coyly guys
while out and about and away
the hours you droned
humming in my ear
like an all-day buzz
whittle away life down to nothing
these the bare bare bones
somethings bound to go Ka-Boom soon!
countdown T minus 30 minutes
and counting
til
launch

Photograph courtesy Tess Kincaid of Magpie Tales blogspot

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/
Visit this above site to learn how to read and write (or read and write) or BOTH!!!It is all about becoming LITERATE (somewhat)...SO please imbibe the vibe and Enjoy!

jj

Monday, February 14, 2011

Mappie #53 "Pass The Salt Monster, Please"


The face in the Salt Cellar
Did Come from Tiki lore
Saying Hey Pour me out
Let me get in your hair

The face in the Salt Cellar
A long lost Alchemic Master
Wondering what further magic
Could be had at the after hours

The face in the Salt Cellar
Certainly did seem evil
Glaring at my heart
Like I was already laid out

The face in the Salt Cellar
Looked like Waterford Crystal
Prim and proper like a person who'd
Never scream "pass the salt, ya monster"

The face in the Salt Cellar
Whom only ever wanted to be loved with might
Looking back in anger now he thought in hindsight
He says he's never ever going to fall in love again!

jj

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Magpie #52 The Lonely House



I'd see the same house everyday on the bus
Twice a day, five times a week, without much fuss
There I'd watch the family like a story; telling
Coming and going, walking, picnicing, yelling
To and fro, I'd see them wearing all kinds of dress
I'm thinking all is right with the world, I guess

Then one day, I noticed something that struck me rather odd
The blue car in the driveway was missing, where is Todd?
I'd named each person, the Mother was Jill, Dad was Wills
A few days later a real estate agent named Jonathan Mills
Today a sad reminder, a tragedy of sorts it did seem to me
A "For Sale" sign; my imaginary family gone; no longer to see

Now when I go to work each day
I want to look the other way
I can't help but wonder why I fuss
As look out the window of the bus

My mind plagues with silent questions like how
Would they get along without me to pray
No one to care as they go about on their way
But only I can hear me now as from the bus I depart
As I recreate the daily reinactment; where's the heart?

Could this family be like me on my city route
like rare squirrels unbeknowst scurring about
Once again the pushout window shows the house
The loves of my life; could they still be intact?

The family, like me, are they sad and lonely for this old house
Now I sense missing time; the lost memory moon and the sad lil' mouse
On the road less travelled by some there comes a fork, I'd rather spoon
To the the unknown places to find fame and fortune it wouldn't cost much
Or have they all found their heaven home and finally found gold to touch

Who really knows, I know I never shall
As to who knows where goes that guy this gal

Could it have been a number of factors unseen maybe I'm guessin'
What about the little girl; is she still taking dancing lessons?
Or did the Father make or take too many financial risks?
The Mortgage Collapse, or did the Mother have a trist?

Is the son still playing rugby and smoking in the backyard?
Is Granny still baking cookies that make my mouth feel like lard?

Did Father or Mother lose a job or two or three
Who knows what's up or down in the new economy
Or was the family a victim of some sort
With ambulances blaring and a police escort

In some way; I'm sure there's been a family breakup
Hopefully not an unknown disaster, not just missing makeup

Maybe there is some good news; a lesson to be learned
A lottery win, a dream job, maybe it's time for their turn
And in the best of scenarios I now see it quite clear this game
Travelling round the world in 80 days with Old Auntie Mame!

This house today is sitting alone and lonely a lot like me too
Although it appears so steadfast, a place that will never move
This Lonely House barks like a dog for its master's return
All life, like this house is a moveable feast ready to be spurned

So quick to dissolve each thing we see
And people too come and go like come and go tea
So there I watch from my perch upon the bus
Sputtering thoughts that collect like bookcovers full of dust

All these zipping images once made sense just go bye-bye now
Where did these connected moments once found, now lost, go?
As quick to fizzle like the wick of a spent candle
So fleetingly the torment the passing hour's handle

Our thoughts soon so forever lost like garbage; gone poof
Dreams of our past seem not to be recycled; just tossed

Yes time flies; it seemed like just seconds, not minutes, a few moments ago
My family that I watched from my moving seat how I wish I had just said hello
As I had once viewed them fleetingly yet lovingly from afar
Thinking in my own insular world it's all about them; I'm not the only star

As life so hurriedly buzzed and whirled like the busy bees' ocean
Twirling and dazzling, dine and dashing, this is life in constant motion
The house now silent, once I could hear the smallest of pins drop
Mow it seemed that everything had been so suddenly told to stop

Once a bustling place full of spontaneous laughter
Joyous clowning and much happy smiling after
This lonely house now suddenly slumps; where's the frivolity?
What happened to the bricks once stalward solidarity?

Now I sense something that is really rather odd
Today the grass that had grown green tall, fresh sod
Was always mown at least once every week now flops
Now the other shoe on the telephone line suddenly drops

Weeds are growing where flowers use to be
All life refuses just to be, so it seems by me
And like a bad b movie unreeled and unfurled
A sad lonely house in my sad lonely world

Like the good green earth one day, to stand still?
Where in the world am I going to go to get a cheap thrill?
It's gone like the family's yesterdays
Half-eaten and frozen tv dinner trays

My family may be gone but never ever forgotten
It's my wish we'll be together with candycotten

The lonely house is much like me it seems
Where's my family? Where are my dreams?
I can't bear to hear the house now that it cries muffled and masked
"The house must be a she" I said "Only love ever lasts"

I know now just what to do, definitely I think I should, I must
This is me the seat squeaked uncomfortably, I felt I want to go wherever or bust
It could have been the other rider by the side door that was a mess
I asked as I peered to get a looky see what's in store; I would guess

My little family made me so happy they'd laugh each day oh just to see them again
This little house on this modest street; once a shiny and sparkling gem times ten

It is time to say my said sad good-bye
As of today although I just want to say Hi
Hello to The Lonely House which echoes my sentiments
We all know we've got to one day let go of attachmemts

As the Lonely House says in a low mounful moan
Speaking up for itself at last in a very sad tone

They don't
They won't
They shant
They can't

They don't live here anymore
for all I know
they've all gone to war!

jj

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Energy Discussion With Dr. Joe "Shakeup Status Quo" Jones



Pretty Pollyanna Reporter: Good morning Dr. Joe! How's it hangin' this fine morning?

Dr. Joe of the Status Quo Shakers: I'm just grand today Polly!

PP: Really? Oh, I heard you were under the weather last week, so that's why we are doing the interview today.

Dr. Joe: Well, yes, Polly, I was kinda sick last week. But that was last week! Today I think I've gathered some really cool insights to something phenomenal that should be addressed to the Blogger community.

Polly: What's that Joe? What could possibly be so earth-shaking as to get a comment or two?

Dr. Joe: Well, you're right as rain again Miss Pretty! I think you got to remember that Dr. Joe just doesn't sit in bed and vegetate!

Polly: Well that's good to hear Dr. Joe. Go ahead, please, and tell us all about your new findings this week!

Dr. Joe: Thanks Polly, by the way, is those new earrings your wearing? There awesome!

Polly: Yes, they are! A gift from my beau! I really appreciate the fact that you noticed, but how did you since we are conducting this interview via satellite audio hookup!

Dr. Joe: Yah, that's true. I guess I heard you say something about wanting a pair of studs for your birthday!

Polly: Dr. Joe, really! Hahahha! You're so funny!

Dr. Joe: Ok Polly, here goes! How to discuss something as serious and complicated as energy with Pollyanna! No pun intended!

Polly: Hahhaahah!

Dr. Joe: Energy is something that we are all about but little is really understood about it, how it interacts with us as humans. It seems we should try to do anything that could expound upon how energy plays such a significant role in our lives.

Polly: Definitely Doctor, please, go on...

Dr. Joe: Yes, I had been thinking, while holed up in my bed last week, how vital energy is in our lives. And energy as you know can take on many forms. Some energy is dormant, or latent, sitting there until something like a catalyst changes it into a released form and KA-BOOM! Energy! Electricity is this kind of energy. OUr bodies our electric and have an electric field, yet so little is known about the interactions of these particular energies on the body, mind and soul. Today, I hope to address some interesting issues, in regards to; number one, finding energy, proving its existence as it interacts with the body, mind and soul. Definitely no easy task, but one I thought I would address as to its extreme importance in the history of humanity.

Polly: Yes, Joe, I read somewhere that you are preparing a paper on this! Please continue, you've gotten my interest piqued!

Dr. Joe: Thanks Polly! I really have thought about this awhile and have consulted various leaders in the energy field to come up with a plan as to how to understand the various energies and their effect on humans.

Polly: Yes, Dr. Joe. I did see some of your preliminary drawings in regards to the human magnetosphere. Which, is, I believe, an energy field which surrounds and interacts with the body?

Dr. Joe: Yes, Polly, this is true! The energy field surrounding the human, often called the "aura" is an area of interest to me. I have conducted initial field studies and have concluded that there is much more testing to be conducted on this vital area. I believe that these energy fields have a vital role to play in our health, as well, I have found new therapies which could adapt the human to a much more beneficial state of energic field. There is a way to create a homeostatic field which would induce great health benefits to the person.

Polly: This is very exciting news Dr. Joe. Could you please explain some of these new healing modalities?

Dr. Joe: Yes, Polly. My group of Body Energy Field researchers have been studying the energy produced by high and low sound therapy, and/or vibrational therapy. It had come to my mind that a new device to improve the quality of proper vibrational health would occur in the body. And in various parts of the body various types of vibrations flourish. For example, the drumming beat of our heart produces and electrical field that can extend as far as five feet or more. Psychically this could be even farther, maybe indefinitely, as these energy due tend to go to a point, which we have called the Alpha/Omega point and then subside.

Polly: Wow, how fascinating Dr. Joe! A drum therapy machine!

Dr. Joe: That's right, Polly! We've been trying not only to replicate the vibrational quality of the body through resonation through the "Drum Therapy Machine" but we've also been able to optimize this level of vibration. As you know, great mystics throughout time have use vibrational chanting for healing purposes. Today, we are trying to create a machine whereby the patient, client, whatever, sits or rather lies down in a resonating machine, similar to the insides of a large drum.
We are experimenting on real Shaman drummers to optimize the various chakras and organs of the patient, drumming in a tone of the various chakra/organ to be healed.

Polly: Yes, I've heard of shaman drum healing before. Don't they have that in Sedona, AZ?

Dr. Joe: Yes, I believe they do, but they it is a hand-held drum and the shaman does go around the body's auric field. There have been reported fantastic spontaneous healings from this particular alternative health therapy.

Polly: Yes, my cousin had gone there for spiritual renewal after a breakup with a boyfriend. She is incredible now, has all this energy, is happy and, well, I often call her to come over to wake me up!

Dr. Joe: You see, Polly..how a little vibration goes a long way! Everything in life vibrates at various levels. My team is trying to find out these levels electronically and to optimize the neural channels for health. It goes beyond health we are finding...

Polly: What do you mean Dr. Joe that these healing modalities go "beyond health".

Dr. Joe: I mean, Polly, that the vibrational healing, takes on a very spiritual dimension or dimensions. In our prototype vibrational drumming machine, patients/clients have been known to experience deeply profound spiritual experiences!

Polly: How so, Dr. Joe?

Dr. Joe: Well, it is really a phenomena I've yet to fully understand or comprehend. We are recording all incidence of reported spirtual or abnormal happenings. We'll keep you posted!

Polly: Sounds like a whole new show or two, we'll have to have you come back to report on this latter!

Dr. Joe: Definitely would love to Polly! Thanks!

Polly: Besides the Vibrational Drum Machine (tm) there must be something else Dr. Joe has his irons heating up!

Dr. Joe: Hope I'm not spreading myself to thin, as I do like to go out on a tangent once in awhile!

Polly: I'd say, it is amazing how many fields of interest you've been involved with! I'd say that you bring back the old notion of Universality, where multiple fields are connected, not simple specialization. Although specialization can be just as difficult, it is often the "big picture" which I find to be a most amazing aspect of your research. What else is on the horizon Dr. Joe?

Dr. Joe: Thanks for the compliments Polly! Our team of researches at ChipnLogs (tm) are also conducting research into the emotional resonance of sound and language. This is a huge field of interest for me and I have often thought how little is known about the emotional impact of sound and language. Right now we are trying to gauge this, with various sounds, gutteral, vowel sounds as well as how these primitive emotive sounds have been translated, emotionally, into various languages throughout history, and this is most important, how these emotional sounds effect a language and the comprehension of words, as well as which languages are vacant of comprehensive emotive sounds and words. It is quite a vast area of research as you can tell Polly, stretching over many cross-departmental areas, Anthropology, Linguistics, Psychology, Sociology, Biology, etc.

Polly: Wow Dr. Joe, you sound like you'll be busy for awhile figuring out the complexity of the emotive nature of sound and language.

Dr. Joe: Yes, I will have my day filled to capacity Polly! Much like Twitter! I might have to deligate more of this work to my fine team of researchers at ChipnLogs(tm)!

Polly: You're amazing Dr. Joe. How about I'll call you for an interview in another month or so to see your progression on your current activity, and I can't wait to see what you'll have that are brand new discoveries!

Dr. Joe: Thanks, Polly! You're going to be a surprized as I am, for I am never sure where out of the left field these new ideas are coming from! That's the excitment for me, Polly, the discovery of new things. I guess I'm an inventor of sorts!

Polly: Indeed! I guess you take that from your relatives!

Dr. Joe: Yah, the monkeys we're pretty smart!

Polly: Oh, I meant your relatives, as in your father, mother and grandparents, etc.

Dr. Joe: Yah, I thought you meant that! Yes, there were a few bats in the belfry!

Polly: Hahah! Dr. Joe...hahha!

Dr. Joe: Until next time Polly? A date with destiny?

Polly: Definitely a date with destiny Dr. Joe! I love you Dr. Joe!

Dr. Joe: Hahah! Polly, you jest! Yes, I love you too, Polly! See you then!

Polly: This has been Radio Innovative for Galaxy Diner...Ciao For Now From the Diner!

PollyAnna Pretty

All concepts, Ideas and products are produced by the Radio Innovative Network and are the sole ownership of Chiccoreal's Logb Trademarked and Copyrighted Feb 09 2011 material...Ciao for Now!

To become a researcher at ChipnLogs Inc please leave name and email in comment section below!

jj

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Wednesdays Seem Tame and Romance As A Punchline


Got those mid-week blues
Wasn't like that on Tues
Today is the hump
that broke my bump
All is much askew
in my Wednesday stew







Romance as a Punchline

Romance is like a caption
the banner which states action
All is fine when dreaming in glory
then wake up to the sounds of Maury
Turn that gull-blag thing down
I've got to find my love-hound
Where's that beast o' the night
Stalking me like I'm alright
Where is the mystic world I knew
When I was asleep and we were lovers too

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Prosiac Tuesday Dreamt of Dreams to Come

the night's soft musk and smokey effect
makes me feel so smooth and warm
and it is no wonder
the warmth inside!
you are the softest member to join the tribe most tender
gently lover on the planet of dreams that become surreality
so let me hang onto this dream awhile as the puffs
of helium-filled clouds outside my door
floating like sculptural pieces
waiting for me to push them gentle away
so I can see forever and the dream
it is a dream of you and me
I feel your presence there

of this and the forever lasting
exactly right now on cue
lets push past the stuff of fluff
put away the feelings of frozen-out
just push it off, push it away!
now I'm back in touch again!

as the spinning centre of the earth just floats
timeless endlessness
never to alight or assign a personification of imagination
I am you in my dreams
and upon my dream-forms of to become
something I thought up and not some
an Irish tempest in a teapot type of nightmarish beast
we can be ours for awhile, you know...
hours the while...make it last...
it is the last hour

if only I'd didn't have to wake up
and claim the nitty gritty grunge
but always live with you in mind
and his heated tender touch
maybe I'd push out another dimension for ya
but we're just getting use to 3D
push away the past and heavy cloudiness
the damn undesirable weightiness
we were not meant to be
this stalking out of our harmoniness
causes me the dreaded wake
as I feel the shaking underfoot
thought it was my heart that was giving up

although it did look like an all nighter
we certainly did burn that oil
heavenly sent you are!
but so abruptly
called away to this meddling furnace of a near-miss hell
or a meowling cat in heat in the basement reminding me
I havent got any more eggs for Easter
and so would the explosion be any less
now that the twilight years have come upon me
sucking the lifeblood right out of me
do you too need a heart?

as the howling of the Georgian bay's wild dogs reminds me
it wasn't that long ago that the wolf barked at my door
looked poverty in the face!
in fact it was only yesterday
now how can I keep at bay the return to those days
and today it's getting louder than the day before
return to Harmony! A place not far from Allenwood
just put your lips together and hum!

if there is a dry eye in the house
(and there never is)
let him come here
we've got some yakking to do
there is nowhere else to go so please,
I implore again, please stay here
try to walk a moment in my Canadian Tire Mukluks
linger longer by the water; it is cooler
I'll have to buy some inebriated on tap
make believe a snow bear prancing here and there
whipping up cold ice sheets
sheets to the wind and Frigidaire air
having to go out in the wee nip
that soon burns like fire
as faces turn like bloody red than bluish numb and then become
fall off like meltdown
permanently etched you know the father of the north
has a blueish hue
and although there's magic in the twinkling of the snow
it's only when the sun plays games with this element
but when the sun is hidden and the blast from the northernmost
isolates come our way
the element of frozen woolly mammoths lands
return by way of pack-ice fields larger than Detroit
that way like what happens to balladeers
who was light in the foot
and may have the first name Gordon
i'd rather stay home with you an imbibe
Play with the elements not a board game
feel the rush of warmth return to my face
smooch marshmallows over your face
and feel the licks of the wind on bare places
if only for a moment, the rush would soon subside
but I'd be in heaven once more
if for only a moment
and that's all I need really
and so it seems I've been given
a short shrift in a snowdrift
packing heat in the way of hand warmers
I'm no short change artist
who wishes
a return to innocence
a place so vast it is becoming unknown

jj

Monday, February 7, 2011

The Morning's Romantic Poem of the Day by Juany Chiccoreal"Luneday"


slow to unveil the night's soft hued and hushed sound;
the new moon once silent; awakens from slumber to rebound

Heard a tinkling fairy noise; a magical mystical riff
raised my eyes to a crescent; the quiet begins to lift

suddenly a sliver of a silvery-orange broad-beam smile
a brief ecletic cresting flash; the dusk revels awhile

Hearts fill with anticipation, the waxing of the celestial candle has begun
full of promises to come; our intent and hopes that we've already won

jj

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Emily Dickinson Returns! A Poem A Day Continues! "I Never Lost As Much But Twice" ED


"I never lost as much but twice" by Emily Dickinson

I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod;
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!

Angels, twice descending,
Reimbursed my store.
Burglar, banker, father,
I am poor once more !

(ed note; second version below...)

I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!

Angels — twice descending
Reimbursed my store —
Burglar! Banker — Father!
I am poor once more!

Dear Fans of Emily Dickinson: Warning; lengthy PREAMBLE: Glad to be back on board and trying to conceptualize the romantic heart of our dear Miss Emily! How transcendental the poems, how light they make me feel, this heavy weighted and shod with cloven hooves beast I have become compared to the incomparable lightness of Miss Emily. I can only try, in my own way, to understand the very nature of this tender being. Please let me bare my soul, if not my heart for a moment to try to live that life as it was in those days, in those conditions.

In order to met any historic poet half-way, at least, we must understand the environment of the said poet/artist.

It is imperative to understand the mileu, the niche, the epoch, the environs of the person of the artist. This is a very personal journey as to discover another one must first discover themselves!

As one begins to look inward, to understand the nature of the poet/artist, in particular the study of Miss Emily Dickinson, we must walk in her historical outfit. So as we gird ourselves with the garment of the artist from that time period we can evoke a more truer spirit of the personage of the artist.

To know one's soul is to know one's being. To be a soulful human being, one must be open to the spiritual influences of the individual as well as the surrounding spiritual influences of that poet's day.

The more information I can produce in regards to the background or the backstory on Miss Emily, the more readily I am able to produce an adequate analysis of her work.

In order to gather such information, I'd have to study the exact same studies of Miss Emily at Amherst College in MA, USA. The mind does have a clear connection to formed thought in the gestalts produced in the erudite teachings of the classics at that time. Remembering that certain focus upon various artists, writers, etc., would be the norm rather than the exception during Emily's college years.

If I could find any written lectures by her professors, this would, indeed, be a gold mine for understanding the mind of Miss Emily. But this is not all!

To understand the nature of Miss Emily's soul, I'd have to travel to her particular religious affiliation, no doubt that of her Mother and Father, which I believe may have been ?Episcopalian? The early rumblings of spiritual indoctrination would have a tremendous influence on the images, symbols, etc found in Miss Emily's work.

As well, her own individual backstory, any diaries, for example, besides the poems she kept. Any handed-down like hand-me down stories from friends, relatives, virtually any information to be found.

Sometimes, and mostly, we appreciate poets, artists for their immediacy, their craft standing on its own having its own merit as an authentic object created alone.

However, as all art critics know everything has a predecessor, a backstory, a derivation of historical influence upon the poet, etc. All things borrowed from some previous place in time. Indeed, "nothing is new under the sun". Influence being key to understanding the focus of an poet/artist's attention.

It is that focus where I am going to evolve today. I must admit, I am not wholly schooled in the multiple classics of Miss Emily. It would take years to arrive at a point where Miss Emily had departed from her studies into her art.

When I make a suggestion, or fixate upon an idea, or a thread or trend of Miss Emily's it is only due to the fact of my limited information regarding Miss Emily's massive amount of Classically-trained mind. Miss Emily is erudite.

Although her work may appear simple on the surface, there are reams of symbolic gesture and signage pointing to something else, either, deeply personal, or coded in someway as to create a particular and original Miss Emily speak, or Emily Dickinson language.

Please join me in my nascent attempt at understanding the depths of this simple yet spiritually deep woman.

The journey is the beginning to a true discovery of the amazing personage of Miss Emily Dickinson.



I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod;
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!

Angels, twice descending,
Reimbursed my store.
Burglar, banker, father,
I am poor once more !

(ed note; second version below...)

What exactly is Emily meaning in the first line? "I never lost as much but twice"?
Well, I would think that the "twice" "lost" Miss Emily is referring to is the fact that "The Burglar" (is this an allegorical allusion?) and "The Banker" are the two figures that made Emily loose something twice. Remember that these allegorical figures could represent something within Emily herself or are a reference to actual personages. At this point, I am not sure.

When I continue my studies in the future, when I become more knowledgeable, reading further poems by Miss Emily, I may deduce the truth as to who or whom these alluded beings actually are representing.

For now, I am allowing my belief to be suspended while I find the actual references, and inferences which may multiple various references along the way. And realize that these allegorically-sounding figures do have much to add to the full dimension of Miss Emily's poems.

For now, lets look upon them as classical allegorical figures, representing a type of Jungian archetype and mood.

"Angels twice descending"

The "Angels" ould refer to the heralding of birth and death. Angels being present during these pivotal times of great change.

"And that was in the sod" The earth makes loss. The earth reclaims souls in its soil.

The earth as sod, as fertilizer for temporal personal power and infinite return. In a way, "sod" is not thought of in the best light in this poem. Sod having a finite quality which is not sought by someone of a transcendental nature.

"Twice I have stood a beggar"

At the doors of heaven, at birth and at death. Angels at those time fill up the "store" with the storehouse of spiritual bounty. As all who enter in, must be "born again" in the spirit according to the Bible.

"I am poor once more". Meaning that Miss Emily feel she is spiritually spent and needs to be reborn in the spirit once more, either via baptism or by the last rites. It is difficult to say, it could be by nature (The Angels) spiritual renewal. Since Emily is often and amazingly refreshed in her spirit by Nature, all things natural from the Source.

jj

Chiccoreal's Amazing Font of Collaborative Effort Fomented in the Mind's Aye

Twice you've come
to collect me
recollect me
enjoin me
entwine me
Twice I've left
left behind
the mere mortals here
The Banker
The Burglar
The Telegraph Maker
Father! Help me!
To leave these surly bonds
of Earth to Fly
High in the Skies
of Perpetural Rebirth
When is this funny game o'er
and I can be
One in Spirit
Once more?

Tell me when!

jj

To Find the Romantic Poet Within One Must "Try To Remember"


For Pearl

Midnight's heavy
lidded sleep
Awaken; My love;
from the deep

Azure skies
being to unfurl
Today; the dawn;
a shiny new pearl

jj



Awake My Love

Awake my love
to stolen kisses

These are my fervent wishes

Awake my love
to soft and tender caresses

These are my flowing tresses

Awake my love
to the glory of you and me

These our sweet dreams we set free

jj

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Magpie #51 ~~Romeo Is Summoned~~


Scene 1: Strewn cobblestone bricks piled six feet high in the middle of a street in downtown Victoriana. Commotion is created when four cars are trying to maneouvre around the blockade.

Scene 2: The door of Romeo and Amanda's love nest/apartment.

A loud knock by two police officers on the very same door. It is way past midnight, all is calm except for this incessant hammering on the door.

"Don't you think you better answer that?" Amanda stated matter of factly to her live-in lover.

Amanda could not rouse the deep sleeping Romeo. As she put on her carpet slippers and slowly shuffled to the door that was down a flight of steps. The apartment was above a toystore in downtown Victoriana.

"One minute, I'm coming, I'm coming..."

Amanda opened the door after peering through the eye-hole. "Oh no..." she said to herself and then slowly opened the door.

"Just a minute, Officers, I think you want to speak to Romeo" Amanda went back up the awkward stairs and yelled at Romeo "Get up, NOW!".

Romeo, bleary-eyed ruffled his bedhead hair and proceeded down the long hallway and then leaned on the bannister until he got to the bottom of the stairs. A deep-sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach made him wakeup that much faster.

He opened the door. "Are you Romeo Blanc?" The officers inquired. "Yes, I'm Romeo Blanc. What is the problem, officers?".

"Do you know anything about the cobblestones that just happened to end up in the middle of the road?" The senior officer asked point-blank.

"No..." Romeo stated, the "O" in "NO" trailing off into the range of infinity.

"Well someone stated they thought they recognized you removing bricks from outside the Golden Pheasant. Do you have anything to say about this?" The officer sounded sullen and angry.

"No". Romeo knew enough not to say anything that might in any way infringe upon his right to a fair trial. Romeo was studying to become a lawyer at the local University five blocks away, he was in his third year. The University might not look favourably upon any of their best and brightest being convicted before graduation day.

"You are to report to the Court House at 9:00 am sharp on Monday morning". The officer handed Romeo a pink piece of paper, it was a Summons.

"Oh great..." thought Romeo. "Ok, thanks very much, good-night!" Romeo closed the door and headed back up the stairs and down the long hallway to the bedroom door where Amanda was waiting with her hands on her hips.

"Now what did you do...Romeo!" Amanda sounded very angry, but was willing to hear Romeo's side of the story.

"Well, Amanda, you see, it's like this..." Romeo went on...Amanda interjected "The REAL story Romeo, ok?". "Yes, Amanda, the REAL story..." Romeo said emphatically.

"You see it was like this; I was really ticked at Old Man Slather because he knew I needed the money...but wouldn't part with a cent, that old miser! It serves him right, now I guess, it serves me right! Romeo held up the Summons. "What a drag!".

Amanda stated sarcastically; "Go on....".

"Well, you see, Amanda, it was really the fact I was not paid for all that hard labour I did putting in all the miles of cobblestone for Mr. Slather. I made his restaurant look good, like the old-fashioned place he wanted it to be, from the old country. He owes me a lot more than minimum wage for that job! It just isn't fair. The little guy never sees fair play, somethings just need to be made fair. You could say I was trying to balance the scales of justice."

"With a heap of bricks?" Amanda yelled. "I was wondering where you got to after Johnny Carson, I figured you went out to get some milk at the 24 hour variety. Do you know this can ruin your career?" Amanda flashed angry laser-like eyes at Romeo.

"Anyway, I know I shouldn't have, but I just couldn't help it, the way he'd ride me all the time, tell me how stupid I am, how I'll never amount to much. I think, in hindsight that I did the right thing, although abit dramatic I must admit".

Amanda started to smile. "I'm pretty tired right now, let's go back to bed, we'll work this thing out in the morning when we're fresh."

Romeo smiled coyly back at Amanda "When we're fresh...I like the sound of that!"

~~~~

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