Off this Beaten Track

 

 

Thou Sousa!

Crumbling peaks of neon –

Nude’s bone collage is mountain sand.

There is no cerebration sepulchre

in this postmodern parcel of land.

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A Meeting of Minds

Samuel Pepys, wrote John Evelyn, was ‘universally beloved, hospitable, generous, learned in many things’ and ‘skilled in music’. John Evelyn, wrote Pepys, ‘must be allowed … for a little conceitedness; but he may well be so, being a man so much above others’. Pepys’s assessment of Evelyn was made early in their relationship, in 1665, and Evelyn’s assessment of Pepys was made on the day that his fellow diarist died, in 1703. So rest the reputations of our two great recorders of Restoration England: Pepys, the middle-class son of a tailor, was a man of the people; Evelyn, the heir of a country gentleman, was a notch or two above.

 

Source: Samuel Pepys and John Evelyn: a meeting of like minds | The Spectator

 

A Dadaist Fairy Tale

 

People notch Poppies on zero trees – spy silver buttercups;

He wrote a day’s miles like this.

There in the middle class … in six sieves was a fiance’s consciousness. The person I loved, slept and learned.

 

In each Lyndon recorder, a constantly yellow pasta man by the forest was written in prose.

He or she is a “universal need” in John’s generous ocean. There was a middle class … the heart of the groom was in six corners.

 

Our musical relationship with rust is ours to dance –

let time hammer out the edges of our days.

 

The reason why he wanted to make this work the strongest was the claim that this research was not a controversy, but actually a taboo.

The descent brings mystery,

So the dead apparition of Vermilion Motion is born –

 

This is an atmospheric aria of forgotten tranquility, that comes to us from a lost age of magic and wonder.

Why was there a yellow stick?

The remaining creatures move only one.

I want to rust.

A glittering and long shining jungle writes taboos in the palm of your hand, as I thank my friends.

A good gentleman,

In that, and quite deeply –

finds a comfortable experience of bread-lid bedrooms.

 

Erythrocyte pebbles light pyres at the feet in my sand. Who is in each area?

Those that say they love lovers, and the swamp.

 

This is an atmospheric aria of forgotten tranquility, that comes to us from a lost age of happenstance and enchantment.

 

Now Go – this is the search query corner class –

&

ask Other Eyes, the tailor threads fate in your pockets.

 

Collages of Implied Space: 1-3

 

Process: After creating a series of collages on the scanner bed , I further blended and manipulated the pieces digitally. Collages are an excellent example of Necro-media. This is the Mass Media Principle that  a medium can be consumed by another medium and turned into Media content.

Collage in particular takes advantage of context, constructed reality ,and implied space to deconstruct meaning and social expectations.  For this reason it was a very effective tool/technique of the Dadaists movement .

Wearing out shoes in my sleep

 

Wearing out shoes in my sleep,

I walk along the right angled

curvature of implied spaces.

 

Stopping to smell the roses,

their bushes have dog biscuits for leaves –

the thorns, are the mourning dove’s call.

Knotty cabbages –

such fine billows bugle outward,

petrified olives.

 

Feathers fall slowly,

turn to grains of sand, bleeding –

trombones’ sleeping eyes .

 

Saltation ‘s shoreline –

glass harpsichord’s kiss slips by,

jellyfish rumba .

Whispering willows –

tooth paste tap dancer steps out,

coral cormorant .

 

Lounging out the door –

now creep pages without words,

peckish cranky oust.

 

Wings of cow dung hit –

a lento, cavalier stars,

a corpuscle of soil –

sandwiched between fast seconds,

soles slide past boughs of strange sheep .

 

Be prepared for sharp turn ahead –

watch for falling molluscs & steam tractors,

summon superlative hexagons,

small blacksmith artifacts.

 

 

Old Woman Moon laughs

as the bridge spins platitudes of pudding.

The hive is now full of tranquil ditties

sharpened on spider silk.

Finally, defoliate whine glasses

as the silence seeps into the toes.

 

NOTE: All images are from my archive on Dark Pines Photo. Clicking images will take you to original posts (opens in new tab).  Stanzas are a mix of free verse, haiku, and tanka.  Many thanks.

I only Believe in