new poems four
© 2015 Peter Ganick
------------------------------------
new poem 4.1
how much is the doggie in the windows?
otherwise composite and totally unknowable.
memory of a toad.
happiness is a keen immersion in the totality of the universe.
human posing complicates everything.
the time of day is not the same as the motion of the stars
the stars change their patterns minutely & continually with no apparent rhyme or reason.
we are not a in stasis.
everyone renews all the cells in their body every seven years, i’ve heard.
what is rhyme?
what is reason?
tools to be used sparingly.
somewhere someone sometime is the rule.
——————————
new poem 4.2
combining attention-spans is not like disapproval or reticence.
while ignoring truth-after-truth does one arrival mean as much as the other?
please act courteous.
do not wear a ‘fear no fear’ tee-shirt—
it will advertise your youth as literal.
mending shins is a subroutine of deserved parries—
not from this camp, though.
let me write, let me paint—
then i’ll know the world is d=l=r=o=w and more than s=d=r=o=w.
my computer can write vertically—
or so it claims.
someday i’ll give it a l=r=i=h=w.
———————————
new poem 4.3
a rogue infinity crawls over the icy streets.
the spiel is that ‘poetry’ is different than ‘text’—
and between those is ‘writing’.
what distinguishes them from each other?
‘poetry’ is aesthetic, read out loud at ‘poetry readings’—
i try not to go to poetry readings.
‘texts’ are more experimental in nature
having the aura of sanctity over them—
at least. so it’s said.
for instance, religious ‘texts’.
i do ‘writing’—trying to be free as possible in the form of ‘poetry’.
‘writing’ can be anything—
even have no outward distinctions.
categories mean nothing, it could be said—
they are merely a convenience.
———————
new poem 4.4
thursday.
late night.
the clocks are on backwards.
not only do ateliers walk backwards
but chandeliers will need one hundred different synonyms.
the chandliers’ synapses detail a regimen of no gluten, no sugar, and less salt.
fundamental changes arrive around handmaidens of purity-itself—
while the symmetry of increase and decrease is the same.
cycles are like circles that run with the tides.
seagulls screech in gloucester
so a mindstyle is preserved.
————————————
new poem 4.5
a wanderer supplied fiction from where ‘when is now’.
replicated pop-survivor minus-plus pop=pop-pop.
trolling phrenologists discern the wiles of a gullible audience.
metals form holograms where silence once was.
‘nature always unwinds’ i’ve herd it said.
nevertheless, a blind prophecy derides no one.
omissions commissons—
covered by language
—————————————————
new poem 4.6
where i sign signal nieuw agenda genuflect & parry those fortitude beholds.
denizens—wary operatives culling motor motions kicking hidden in rumorese.
those fabulosities remind feint cackle thorough dispolitic that memory;.
olde that the cringe nefertiti gnashes calamine loofa spoons—deterrents.
imagining elemental elementation then thensone retinol chances changes.
————
new poem 4.7
modalities—‘after you gaston’.
ad hominem for telephone synergy.
the opening chance channels oddity.
when there is nor pyre nor crosswise—
the optimum iteration goes fallow.
morning birds make scolding sounds as i sit here to write.
a presence operating modes through song & chant.
somewhere an angel pours milk for the capillaries of the king
who entrances himself with poised charms.
———————
new poem 4.8
a combination of immersion & technology
recalls of omission.
text-radar blown away to the happenstance
not harassing global clime.
tale of the preoccupation.
retain pliability while sliding through
upbeats,
the remission of 5-part-songs is while watching
an old teevee.
crashing clouds through intramural contrasts
tactful or not, the mahogany salute resembles
a cruet where politic mannerisms vanish before
legumes flourish.
———————————
new poem 4.9 [unfinished poem in 5/4]
a colar exchange of collars would wake good choice.
the birds outside are scolding as i write this.
there’s rain to delay the game that wanders through a day of literal majesty.
bless the harvest.
bless this choice, aware of while the roaring sands grate through what doorway is the flame.
someone outward to me invites/volunteers the many others however their existence.
moot tenancy blossoms while drywall is constructed.
the only chance this coheres is kneeling before a moodswing.
go to change the routine.
————————————
new poem 4.10 [unfinished poem in 3/16ths]
major d’omo calling the kettle blank.
for no reason.
while opening or a scarfing down of pizza or some such other.
the kettle’s blackness is without control.
thereto opening a concern—
leaving tangible misconstrual…
—————-
new poem 4.11 [‘woe is me’ poem]
it’s an opaque mirror on the wall.
sighing.
a root canal, a bridge, one extraction and two caps.
aunt winnie’d groan a large ‘oh vey’,
as wooden chromatic scales practiced by students everywhere
descend & ascend, descend & ascend.
reining where somethings don’t go for a long time
and others are chosen straight away.
everything has a preparation time & space.
mr einstein taught me that.
once in a wave of light i caught a foible called ‘the arts’.
fantasy football is far away from housing the rules of the game i play.
somewhere intractable motions claim what’s left of definitive mannerisms.
etched on a graffiti acknowledgement of change is nothing else after the fact of intentional homage.
so, i collect what’s left of the open chairs &
bear brunt of which aperitif grandstands out-ranger preoccupations.
————
new poem 4.12
please do not complicate what is simpler than
dropping a coin onto a charm.
it’s already there—
that which in affect becomes additive.
cold cutlery arranged in rows & columns—
& why?
[…motor skills of a moron collect atrophization
when rolling to barter with slaves…]
‘can you hear me knocking?’ sings an old pop song.
we are already waiting.
do entertain any notion voluntarily—
as the crosswise dauphin reflects while engaging chicken-proof-wired contractors
to phrase a contemporary additive on what’s international & paisley.
not impressed—
are words collecting ashes in the corridor.
we are too early to lift baggage.
no one washes midstream anymore, it being too dangerously appetizing.
this has been called ‘a stray mind’—
get used to it!.
—————
new poem 4.13
it’s an opaque mindfulness, ‘illbience’.
…eight-letter word i coined.
always.
is healthy.
a condition of…
then.
as when in motion the accrual of decorum.
as however a parroting written above & about.
unlikely the torsion of callousness looking at what’s nearby.
so wide the concept. so malleable it is.
as when flying through a fogged sky tuned to nothing special.
why while attending to absence does an intuition of exactness flow from fingers used used to practicing classical piano.
…that which i no longer do.
a contract elsewhere has been happily signed.
cool idiomatic sanpaku person i are not.
shelving that line the opaque homage is stepped up.
…mannerisms in the midst of a crowd.
‘a stray mind’ and why not? it is.
choices everywhere where why? is not answered.
——————————
new poem 4.14
as at the border of infinity & zero
whenever that error occurs
no acknowledgement reverts
to rehearsal ‘one more time’
nor agape at the larger increment ahead.
small precious meandering solace & stray mind
that folds where mindfulness holds opacity
each lettered motion vanishing as sands
while decanting voice or signal,
symbol or meaning, thereof to decide
a citation a colophon assuming politic
narration evaluates telephone conversations
is it who oversees a natural decoy—
loitering in retreat, snail-paced.
big yeller nearby, the contrast is intact.
lunch hour goes by in this busy restaurant
defending the word lighted on this screen.
some long-faced operative closes down this
shout-filled room. not at fault, the laughter
is aware of happy children nearby. so much
confetti, these words, someday i’ll write a
‘real’ poem.
—————————
new poem 4.15
a land’s blocker, voicive & perfunctory,
commbining various jalapeno specialisms.
tunneled into parallax—
affect grips the world
& is winnowed from friday into saturday.
complicating this from before hearing this—
there’s a notion nothing changes in repetition.
incorrect or correct doesn’t matter
& whether we tell is also without point.
let’s wait it out.
some comparative unreality is most likely why—
with time an indeterminate psychology
would be held responsible for sharing that
plasma’s physiology is without map.
shoring up the prenuptial is impossible—
better meld a borograve.
an addenda within the same century—
name from frequency held in mind—
tassels hold pardons for their sleepy renegades—
a compressed world is intent on
sparing wildernesses embracing years or millennia.
share one pod—
repeat ornaments—
oversold & underpaid.
in fact,
overworked, understaffed &
underpaid is the theme whether sung or pebbled.
let’s define me—
simple or complicated—
a token perfection that never materializes.
hoodoo economics has been replaced with
hoodoo ecology—
i don’t know what is worse.
my thought is: it will take a lot longer to get
used to the effect of hoodoo ecology.
someone outside is speaking with a mega-
phone.
just then a tin can is thrown through
the open summer window.
i think i’ll put on some headphones and listen
to some music.
————————————
new poem 4.16 [in lee, ma]
while the walk light blink-blink-blinked assigning value go emotion—
some valley protrudes motionless caveat blossoming
where the glow ahead
some motor-skills vanish dallying in chasms.
blunt from levitating to a response volitionally public not imagined
a corporeal motivation elicits shards waited for in sloth or in that emotion.
i thought to myself,
‘hold still & keep breathing—
just keep breathing’.
emotion of air through the windpipe seemed visibly one-headed.
there would be no discussion period apres ski.
a commonality of purposive amity resides well into the evening
as the new car starts
into drone actuality with not a sound to awake
which was surprising.
…still breathing—
…checking for that body-response—
a greeting was before the clock ran down-street with a broom.
many strangenesses combine the rules of syntax
taken for comedic invisibilities—
solved in context for narrowly-fed authority—
each the influence is bagged, ingested and ferreted liminal.
constraint jumps the gun of sere-incalculable resists
what hand holds the hand that holds the hand
of mystery
if one looks an endgame straight in the face
it is life itself that keeps on living.
what else can be revealed in spacetime
is consulted in solitaire.
the whole wide world is sonatas for brunch—
& blankness where silence ought to be.
‘plink down yo’ nickels & dimes—tens & twenties—
who tells in what epoch alchemy began?
somewhere over the rain-bell no doubt’.
that’s what leaning-on can do for/to an entity,
there on the rocks waiting to be zapped.
—————————
new poem 4.17
the levitation of abandonment
flies the midnight route northward.
without claimants, a varying ocean defers to
anyone having atari or floating on a clarinet.
people who warm erase coral reefs
woolens are sought outside the home
once a day only the viceroy seeks politics
and that at the exercise room.
the most interesting man does not read a
newspaper, he gets news from the internet.
less and less and less and less no matter
how you cut it up an arrangement of sound
recalls itself one day at a time playing such
cliches purring through a crowded house.
mindstyle adapted from tenners on unthink-
able boats walled into photocopies harbors.
ennui is old school. permission is not granted.
it is not allowed. this keyboard is loose.
there’s a zine about loose canines. why be
loose when sham burins hold attraction for
a larger percentage of the population. i’ve
always been a crowd pleaser. see me on the
music stage, full of found opinions, promul-
gating the errata of winding lakes onto into
out of that is activity for activity’s sake is
worth considering, that is, ‘not’. a halo around
the surface of the mountain checks the run-on
sentence or the run-down stronghold, without
a thought foregrounding the attribution found
elsewhere nowhere faster than that then soon.
——————
new poem 4.18
no tarrying in the cloud fields.
rules mount cold & sinkhole connoting a mimosa or a florin.
as the notion of where influence is ironic—& from.
melding heroic as the edge of an updrafted-word on a cliff.
i caught trance nation on teevee without a shear cliff to behold.
unfurling a flecked-beetle heals a hand of shorn intent.
earthling, wait in the window across the street
as the minou becomes sniffling-reeled—
someday i’ll understand from where the fire-fountain
was lit.
glitterati pounce on the farm-fountain of spades & clubs.
the women grapple with their queens & diamonds.
the entrancement of charm reflects on them as
one solid chunk of sheet rock that is different &
cannot refuse its thought
as it is.
————————
