formfindsfunction

dark and light? one another benight. each is a curse and each is a boon; one can just as easily get lost at high noon, as one can truly find one's self beneath the moon. end and beginning, equally hark; from each other embark light and dark.

the emapt empat (four four), like it's cousin the pantoum, originates from malaysia. like the pantoum, it contains an incidence of whole line refrain, and quatrains with alternating rhymes. there the similarities kinda end. while with the pantoum the number of stanza's is up to the author (though there are usually at least 3), with the empat emapt there is a set 4 stanzas. also, the only refrained line is the first line of the first stanza. but, it is refrained is different places in each subsequent stanza. the rundown: four stanzasthe meter or syl-count is up to the poet, but remain consistent throughout the piece. the first line in the fir

in just two month's time, my cat's been metamorphosed; fur-ball chrysalis. she has been turned inside-out, from touch-me-don't to rub-whore.

I AM LOST TO YOU LIKE CLOUDS    GRASPING AT OZONE      LIKE STAR-FLOWER TEARS

our souls are sierpinski dew sublimed from matter's keen edge honed into reality lubricated by intent vibrations condensing from infinities of membranes all-wombing mother, vast eldritch percussionist, taps out planck-scale time.

under deeps sundered keeps deeps hidden keeps ridden hidden crown ridden down crown sundered down under

i've grown still. but, inertia shifts; so then, too, shall i. cataracts, (distraction's glammar) fall away as scales. woody veins, depending skyward, wave capillaries. sleeping trees, the back of my hand: holy autographs.

Though pain comes in the night And snares oppress the right in Him, We know no worldly whim Will satisfy the dim desires Of weakest flesh that tires. To pass through burning fires, this test Refines us to our best, That we could relish rest and peace That will not simply cease In us but still increase! We share The comfort and the care He gave when we were there. O great And glorious King of fate! From nothingness create your light!

out of the desert the sun rises city in the distance fading sheering wind chasing our shadow free falling the sun rises dusty gas station fading cloud cover white-line morse petroleum hum road music dusty gas station as the sun drops low cloud cover materializing the road loops black ouroboros lost in time as the sun drops low city in the distance materializing out of the desert

pieces tessellate : fell geometry ride the guiding wave : repeat history pray we're not enslaved by blind bigotry. on  the news? only my nightmares. in. real. life.

For you my thoughts go oft astray, In all the watching and the waiting, I'm driven to my knees to pray For you, my thoughts go oft astray. And though I know not what to say, The rush I feel is still elating, For you my thoughts go oft astray In all the watching and the waiting.

My eyes have seen the glory of the stars Shining in the corners of your smile. They see the growing solar flare you are That I have longed to cradle for awhile. A supernova, fire in your veins Compacted into star stuff two feet tall And glorious as nebulae. I gained A speck within the universe, is all But you, to me, are galaxies of light And love of you could fill the sun and more. My moon and stars, my harbor in the night, I wait for all the wonder that's in store. Your story will be sunbeams in the skies, I know; I see the stardust in your eyes.

We stood outside, awaiting the convergence of three paths: one of blood and one of fullness, One of shadow's ebb and light's emergence. But dark clouds from the dying day brought dullness And masked the celebrated rise despite Our table, decked with all the fruits of harvest. The timing and direction beyond our sight, Still we had a love feast to digest. Though past control, we finished healed and whole.

the bref double is rarefied, a postcard from the sonnet's edge; lax both in meter and in rhyme, it seems to romp most giddily. unhinged from it's cousin's strictures it's joy and grace exemplified. free and easy flows the quill-tip; the lines fill up so prettily. here classic verse is simplified (surprising since the form is french), and while its rules can be defied it's hardly worth the poet's time. in closing, reader, i confide i find this form purely sublime.

Triste et ennuyeux Le prof pense que les Etudiants gracieux Preferaient quitter Mais le blanc tableau L'oblige a rester Le lecon fini Il voit que il pleut Son vieux visage gris Il sait que il veut La poussiere gris Sur le blanc tableau Deviennent rouge brillant Un tir calm rien meut Choqué etudiants Savent que ils perdent Le triste prof devant Temoin blanc tableau

Your moon face buoyant on our crumpled sheets Snuffles as I brush your spindly, broken Hands. They're too perfect for me. Your gaze fleets With cynical lethargy to connect With the dawn. Too early for birds to sing, The hills too lazy to do a damn thing. Australia calls. You'd like it, I think. You write poetry, I think. Words flow through Our throats like sunbeams, words to describe dew Perspiring under our lids as I blink To say goodbye. But they'll be left unsaid Forever. So I will say what I must. Your skin is fresh as eucalyptus, head Filled with firecracker wits. I can't say lust Is pure but spring makes it so, turns molten Red into ca

ebullient font, nature's keys to our soul's doors; teacher and lesson. r u t holy chemistry, esoteric botany; occulted pathway. v e r f l o w i n green infinity, enfolding us with the Whole, nurturing our growth.

Once the wind caught on the sea And its dress snagged upon the crests Like a girl who couldn't help falling For a boy with too many cracks Then the wind tumbled between the waves Crashing with the water when it couldn't find the sky. I always wanted to live in the sky, Wrap clouds around me--dip myself into the sea-- And wander into roaring waves Of emptiness; Rush as the sun crests Rush like wind and water into the cracks Of myself, so that maybe I'll stop falling For people who can't keep themselves from falling Down, and who won't quit looking at the sky So they can avoid all the cracks In the sidewalk as they weave through a people-sea

aspersions tasting of rank bile; caustic flasks of fear decanted. entropic, sightless filaments growing and choking heedlessly. instantly the truth is jaundiced, kind words now at best lecherous. meaningless, fevered negations only melt into perfidy. quarrelsome misgivings rampage, salvaging naught from tragedy. undoing these shared volitions; willing this sea to xerotes. you have made our total zero.

Wind blew cold in the horse's mane East ran the horses through the plain Stalwart rode there a faithful king Through shadow of a dreadful wing Unafraid when blood fell like rain Through a dark morning without dawn He led his riders, now they're gone Eorl's sons in their helmets tall Oath bound them to heed Gondor's call Dark was the morning, red the day Ere evening came, the king dead lay Now to the bright halls leads his way Hail Théoden, o mighty king A song of glory as swords ring Let now the riders sing!

and you think you'll maybe trust him, for he's touched your perfect body with his mind.                                            -leonard cohen i knew his name, but not his words, until a scant few years ago. they soar through heaven's vault as birds and they lurch through sheol's shadow. his works are sacred and profane (ecclesiminical, each gem; angels and demons, there, contained) the depths of humanness to seine. he sang of love both blithe and grim, and you think you'll maybe trust him. sparks within the darkness, shadows at midday; the release of loss and the heartache of joy: these were his revelatory yin and yang. he spoke on fai

Brown crinkles with age? Crisp white? Stained black? I shall make the first mark with thoughts inked in stylus black. The belle of the ball glides over floors and chandeliers With loaded grins, clacking heels and a dress of styleless black When he emerges from his den, don't enter and don't speak Of the shame, guilt, perfectionism and eyes of smileless black The drugs are quick, they think, as their minds mesh into one With the randomness of two dice and a consistent chylous black The tight focus of a nightmare is a thing to admire It chokes reason till it caves and creates a hilus black After she left him he poked and prodded at his hea

I love him But. (There is no "but.") And Come twilight, no change. For love is always "and" without a catch. We love As love has made us "we." Two rolled into one. A discourse, Ever widening, And ever deeper, so help me. God, the words come slow with age and time, But I am his, and he, mine.