ancient in me is a Viking nature
its chords are in the sinews of my hand
a brief tendency to claw I tender touch
a raw inheritance…a boon to thought
for days when breeze is from the north
I am drawn to roughness and to vagrancy
I know the urgency of sail with sea wind
bass keel push…moaning of the hull
then it is I exit through low windows
choose rain pooled muddy trails
gnaw on wintergreen and sorrel
climb mulberry…cram fulsome to
my mouth its sour sweet stain
Thinking Mobius…and
Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
ends of being and ideal grace
all…at the same time…
synapses firing in my brain
glister sparked like fireflies
seeking instant satisfaction
in dark recess evening trees
of acrobatic whimsy stretch.
I’ll slide idea surface in my
playland mind around around
until sheer dizziness…or boredom
spins me tumbling from the loop
abrupt to contemplate a stop…
that Mobii don’t merge unless
they’re quantum…linear
equations in a genius mind
primed to such disintegration.
I’ll think integral…especially
not damaged…be complete…
and lacking nothing…content
and undiminished…and…
contemplating…everything.
Bonnie Marshall
Sculpture: Instituto Nacional de Mathematica
Pura e Aplicado (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil)
oh, Dear Reader…let’s go for distract…
pretend it’s a rainy day…or blazing hot
or something’s wrong with our setting
and we can’t change the world…at least
not these very moments
now consider the reward of thinking
boustrophedon…come on…stay with
me on this one, for it’s a marvel, and
will prove advantage in a curious life
once you get the knack of it…like
computer glasses…or tapping apps
there…you just “boused”…might
tease your eyes a bit at first until you
find the motion knack of it…the plow
of it, like oxen forward backward on
a field, the way some Greeks…some
Romans incised glyphs into their clay
use it now…you’re ready… you…
could try it with van Gogh…his great
“Rain – Auvers”…1890…one from
his final works
start top left…scan seeing thinking
left to right and right to left across
its levels blue to gold to blue…stop
now and then to ponder what he shows
for it will wonder you
and then…there is…his rain
Bonnie Marshall
Painting by Vincent van Gogh
“Rain – Auvers” (1890)
we take off and we land
our necessity of days
take on…take off into
the charting of our years
on routes long-established
by others…by ourselves
and we fly passengers…
are attendant to their needs
accordingly in first class…
business…coach…we transport
parcels luggage mail…and we tank
energy to fuel them safely into sky
and we accumulate and jettison desire
not to weigh us heavy into earth…
not to limit soar…not to impair
workings of our parts and send us
crashing into mountains…sinking
into seas…barely reaching shores
we’ve charted on our maps and
lifted to in dreams
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