TRANSLTING BIRD, Free Verse

Talk about a dreary day.  Got up complained about the heat.

Soon enough it was looking like rain.  Can’t even complain.

Oh how city streets confuse me, most words make no sense, either.

I hear them. I know the definition. And that’s it.  The rest is a guessing

game. “Did the weather change or did I?”  Am I bipolar, do I care?

Would it help to know? I doubt it.  OR why would I ask?

It’s pointless as most things, truly are. No, not spiritually speaking.  THere’s plenty

of that and much more than really necessary.  There is no free well to speak of. This is the killer, to me, it’s both true and false.  As a poet not at all.  As a verse, perhaps, maybe...

What that once meant, I can’t say.  But I understand why a bird awaits first for an unaccented rhyme to start a song.  Light is Sound to a bird, I think.  Bird plays sound against light. I’ll explain it in human: “ this is what a Bird does to show he is a Bird!” . Bird writes Birdsongs not just plays them.

By The next day, Birdsong has evolved.  Now, responds with an accented rhyme. Birds adds to his Song, “I can do it backwards, that’s how a Bird rolls.” By The next observation, Bird won’t have anything to say over the accent. Bird is emphasizing pitch.  The way that the sounds fall from the Nest!  Bird says in Human, “I live my life as a Bird up there’s the nest.---Listen, and Watch.”

Over time, this continues. .Bird had added a purr to his chirp.  Next, bird mocked his echo.

Unchanging AND Endless

#IF you ask me what a bird would say to a Poet:  Free verse is the union of all freer verse.

GALWAY BAY

When then Galway with its Sweet Song Rain

Drinks up the Thirst of an Ocean and Shines

Dressing every Cloud with Scented Listens

THat Swab away the Sound of Uncertains

WHisper in the Darkness of a Shadow

THe Bay in the Shore of that Ancient Time

Ticks with a Steady Heartbeat as it Chimes

Water per Eyesful the Tears of Dropped Pearls

Circumference is a Universe in Wholes

Grown miniature yet Grander than its SIze

How came it here?  Where did Originate?

THat I both know and don’t know it at Once

Memory of Mystery Never Known

As Yet without a Source is still a Home

CROW LAMP

EMC2   EMS5

I am here with my friends, the furniture

It relaxes with me tries to soothing

The floor has more emotions than I do

The walls appear lyrical and further

The pillow on the Cushion under sheets

They are more alive than I am prone.

For I am a Spirit without a Home.

I wander I flee I retreat I hone

The tune of the Earth in form of the poem

It has escaped now I lost my hold!

Just before it became language a silence

What I know is this: The Lamp is an Object.

The sound before the sound before the sound.

BLOOM RIVER

  I’ve seen Rivers    Rivers as ancient

As the Sun-bridled Dawn  in its Chariot

Carried across the densest filament

It grew a Leaf then Became a Flower

Its eyes were as INnocence never Touched

The other that was Lost was its Fountain

Crowned with  the Friendship of the Parted Friend

And another grew Stronger by its Near Death

FLowers as Rare as the beauty of Youth.

Its Only comes Once-in-a-Lifetime Curse

Beauty Once Found is always DIscovered

Were Time not so Elegant by its Truths/

Here and Before Never Again Be Torn

Bloom its greatest Maturity Upon

HISTORIAS

I have lived on a fence all of my life.
It remains to be painted white as yet.
It has a second self in a river
THat appears as a surface of air

absorbing the moisture contained in breath
Clouds they are called the cotton balls mirror.
The body beheld it never had freedom.
The denseness so cruel as outrageous.
The Folkways of Slaves and Train Railways.
Cotton in Brambles Scars in the Furrows.
Fate tormented SLave VIolence Turpitude.
COnsidered more Beautiful when preserved.
For future perspective, harvest wretched,
History held over its Shoulders, Emerges.

Like

Like

TO CROW

I love Crow and Crow’s Friends.  They learned to share.

THey adopt me as their student and bard

Sing to me phrases that I’d never heard.

Just like a Poet are Crow and Crow’s Heart!

While they live in my presence they never

repeat what they say every day neither

would Crow treat me that way as ritual.

For nothing between us is tedious.

We choose it to be more mysterious

and set toward that end its desires

less assumption, less routine, less allure

and more, more, more everlasting suspense

The mastery of surprise is your own

not not to imitate what Wasn’t known

ECLIPSE IGUALDAD

Come, spirit, be my Medicine tonight.

Ven, Espiritu, sea suyo el Ritmo

The sun was eclipsed yet I am alive?

El sol se Rompe y yo sigo viva?

Explain this to me, I’m greater than it?

Dame La Rason si soy mas Grande que el?

The star that was bit was greater than I.

Estimo esa estrella mas Grande.

I come here to weep I come here to die.

Vengo a llorar vengo a morir

death is as distant as eternity

La mUerta tan leja la eternidad.

I breathe. I see. I write and I still try

REspiro, Miro, Escribo y Sigo

while it lost a bit of its shine in the sky

cuando apaga a la Luz el Cielo

When it was away what has come nearer

Que es lo que se acerca atraves

than myself in the soul of evening,

La que soy por ser alma de la moche

Do you see it as I do flickering

La vez desprendiendose sus chispas?

suspended in mid air of its presence.

halucina el imagen en su ambiento

KNEES OF MERCY

http://isolatefleck.blogspot.com/2014/10/knees-of-mercy.html

SON MARTIR

http://laplumaala.blogspot.com/2014/10/martir-son.html

The Soul is a Boat

The soul is a boat   the ocean sails.

Far on its distance and deeper within

It navigates the universe,  a  fin,

for harbor is the universe  an oar.

As the shore of an anchor   moors the tide

The wind-breathing of the sky  inhales

As existence a shoal of the sea spills

Beauty encircles   the hour returns

The beauty of the undulant waves bring

each orbits the weeping of the ages

and with swells of the size of creation

completes its renewal begins again

The soul is an ancient such mystery

it knows is equal to the seasons.

Wild Bird Cultured Roses

The flower that grows while the crow that crows

are attached to both ends of a horizon

stretched over its features introduces

a day like no other that’s come before

when the stem brings to beauty a mirror

as symbol of the sustenance of love

it perfumes with so ancient a perfume

scented stamen adheres to its color

presently across the sidewalk I pass

each speaks to me one is inaudible

cracking through the cosmos into the dirt

the other by two’s chants its messages

wild as birds and cultured as roses

fly wings of the sky, opaque and spacious

A DAY IN THE SUN

Majesty beauty the sun in bouquet      

spills over surfaces of earth and drapes

painted over shadows darkened to shade

brushed across the world and cast on the clay

these are its radiant greeting flowers

for audience living creatures partakes

strings of the music the universe plays

a day is an instrument,  note and key

the soul knows only by its harmony

what knows it of mysterious power

like the distance between color and sound

is the absence of faith in its presence

senses divided unite by their sense

the music is ancient ancient defense.

BIRDS OF THE TREES

The crows, pigeons, sparrows and thrushes sing

each gives the other permission to sing

they know the music they know the song

that they sing everyday in a sequence

the arrangement is written in response

to itself through the music of the world

nothing is inert when it is resting

silence restored is silent redemption

the bird does not sing when forced to sing

it is not beckoned to go wandering

but migrates with the seasons to return

the bird is more constant than anything

humanly devised, anticipated,

or accidentally devised by fate.

PHYLLIS WHEATLEY, IMAGINATION!

To Phyllis Wheatley

Your Majesty I Summon Partially.

Its Beckoning so Mystic as Beauty

Ascends to the Astros and Pirouettes

The Particle’s Substance is A-Rhyming.

Beautiful Sunset cast in my Orbit

Remarkable as Marvels of Heaven

Imagination, you who know Everything

I adore you, you are more Radiant

Than all the WOrld’s RIches Twinkling Sparks

You appear already Luminos, Word

FOr I did not strike the Phospohorous Wood

Before you came here and Warbled a Lark.

Beauty of Beauty awakes in the Dark

Illuminate my Vision with your Art.

PLAGIARIST

Oh No!  Here comes the Ragign Plagiarist!

She strides down the hallways a menace face

Two hovels  eyes with bitter eyelashes

The terror of discovery--again Agh!

Columbus, Cortez, and the Fascist Boss

They bend over backwards with Avarice

Asses of Downtrodden Artifices

that To think ofs to Swallow ABysses

Virtuous Orifice the Dungeon of Minds

HEre come Vicissitudes without a Clue

Nondescript, Rhetorical, and Abstruse

The worship of the noose in the Minion

Beggar of anything but Opinion

HEEL OF HOMER

Come, my traditions, surround me and grow

emerge from your faounden your heaven’s arms

embrace me as Thetis held her hero

and Achilles was named by her power

to be immortal was nothing of course

but to carry the burdensome heart’s hole

who is a mortal son offspring of one

still her power was greater known by far

she could trick him of his fated demise

these are the ways of the worldly warrior

who stacks uneven an imposing force

all to its benefit and none others

but soon comes a Poet nee Homer

blinded by beauty as the Eye of Verse

CROW ORCHESTRA

The hands that cover the face of the leaf

as it grows, gold-ripened, it dries its stem

in a ritual as tree remembered

from when it was young and yearned for its field

where though common would grow mighty as oak

and rustle with the birds in its tree bough

as then it would have a canopy home

where music was made each day before dawn

and  every little being shade covered

crows would hold counsel reciting their caws

as they did today when as I listened

Crow squacked in numbers of 2’s, 3, and 4

his refrains returned on two beat patterns

and with one 5 count reached the crescendo

ASSANGE & SCHMIDT

Assange and Schmidt  (the State Department, too)

at the Ecuadorian Embassy

Like two brothers-- but, no not exactly

One may surmise he is invinciboo

unlike Beyonce sang in “To The LEft.”

The other is running an Empire--

Government is Good if Gov is a G.

Old school, inclusive yet still powerful

mind while I rescue your GF’s laptop?

--Your instinct is fast, you saved me a lot!

Not that I need it, I AM the dot.gov

Are you Ready for Hillary Come on!

I am having a cerebral hemorrhage

Where is my army, my navy, my gun?

DUDAME DOS

El Violin de Dudamel perfumece

Toma la rama le acaricia el toque

Vivos se los llevaron vivos quiero

No se complazaban con cualquieres

Esos son los jovenes sus bocas frescas

en que todavia no llega la quietud

chispas de sus obras llevan virtud

El violin llamas su esculta triega

Los ventriculos fiebres su hilo azul

cortado de verde y purpureados

Amarillo y verde descolorea

pintado violin ventana aeria

La vida le cuesta mas a la Muerte

Que la Muerte le cueste al Momento.

e_Pyramid

e Pyramid --  from Mound into Mountain

Popocotepetl pedastal shorn flames

Colder than Fire colder than Hell’s mouth

Of Heat made of Heat into arrow’s beams

If asked where I went to never Return

My voice answers full a gradient pressed

To squeeze between its edges its next breath

as peace takes to Force its worthiest Verse

Approaches with kindness and riches, Steps,

Adorns with each power a newness, wealth,

the gift of the ages as a palm to touch

though leaves  may come and go, Life is a wreath

Leaf-like stone of the finest polished cube

that Doubles its height from its bases up.