Tuesday, 22 November 2016

The Mirror of Me. David Stone/Cheryl Penn

The Mirror of Me

David Stone
Cheryl Penn

The fundamentally correct
personal view
on all that’s important.
At that moment
I stifled a yawn,
not wanting L to see.

I started out as a child no wait it was a priori to that integer. at once an alligator no wait it was a prioi to that. a martian of course by designation.

being- kind-of course-no wait. an ontological brief.

who gazed in the mirror and saw a strange configuration of cubes?

prior priors? priority prioi’s
come come jod - stick to the nitty gritty of
dark ringed eyes
in unknown futures
rummaging in unfamiliar villages
for clues of what will happen exactly
36 minutes into the future.

we had waited a long time
suspended between life and death
never living
too blind to see
and all that’s inbetween
is it possible to light candles for the future?
to see through
the Mirror of Me?

it is something indelible subtlety under arrest for composing rhyme. trumpets. on a thin stage.. collected. attenuated in brine tanks. washed. a multitude of students of society.
you must learn manners. I wasn't born with just tears.  didn't you think to smile?  absolved. prior judgements.  ropes. a steer. won a prize. ate beef washed down with draft.

discussions of table manners.  a Dalmatian rode a fire engine home. thinking. on my next incarnation as a fireman I will wear wetgear,oxygen, climb a tall ladder.
neither can be well known.  I barked at a Persian cat across the street as we steered back to the station.

the mirror said
stop putting that stuff on my eyes - why I asked -because it makes them heavy and we’re not strong enough and halfway through a busy day I want to close and you’re not happy then any exercises for I-lids?

Moving on - a neon umbrella
glistening rings
as I was saying
a victor by chance (close encounters)
move up
a drastic landslide of smoke rising from skyscrapers
dropped investigations
it started with you
your notes -
last page
a scratch out
face upon face upon face
we were ALL
someone’s daughter
but the scene was different in
black and white -
more 30’s.

i think
a black
by art
a blank
in auracularites
a fine

a beating heart this time faster by others blood coursing unattended nerves 
I called when the window was broken but none came.
the forests go on forever and clouds move so fast when its going to rain.
weeping at betrayal but why the surprise little one?
its called the Mirror of Me
YOU/I don't  feature - featureless futures thats our lot.
Suck it up millions
its downhill from here
so their mirrors say.

the millions of beings being human beheaded straight across. naval yards. checking radar instruments. making a lot of money too. there is a new one checking out comets. contracts
nerve gases invented designed to steal lives. more born don't worry. there are plenty more to come.

Suspension in turquoise but trouble stormed in.  The Night Crosser - always an inconvenient time. We didn’t believe we saw you - your reflection - its been so long. That smile - scary and insincere. Raised eyebrows - I dont look back.

Another mirror
another face,
packing in someone elses drawers - a faded face through a dusty window.
and people walked through the forest
that went
on and on.


The paint peeled.




Faces stare in the window. Rain. Cold. Cheer. Tell me a good story. Amused. Psychic. Finished.
Aren't you going to elaborate?
A baby
the bath.
Doesn't that tell you
so scary?

I don’t know if I said this it reeks of Déjà vu
It LOOKED like a child at the entrance but was just
a rag
moving in the wind - child-less.

Tumbledown Town
stick behind his back
what was the fear? designed to steal lives
where is he I said?
he knew he did it - it was that simple and he knew he would be staying a while
an accidental death - there’s such a thing?  Red slashes and starring guests who knew what the mirror would show.  More screams, less dreams, slamming doors and strange things in pockets its good to see your red hair again.

memory it was so difficult to say a view of poisonous animals creatures God bit between the lines scared operators walked over the bridge to escape a bombing. eating raw sushi carrots pigeons.
cut open fed with sausages in Berlin games studied motion. arrested. went to school to study rehab arts. learned sign language. fell up the steps tell me about the dream said Dr. Alfonso.
last nights dream or the night before everything is hazy- the mirror is rear view. Close eyes to think of blurry people we think we know, rain falling, inexplicable situations - I can’t tell jod - your visions or mine? Did you go to Berlin again?

Calm night viewing the walk of destruction.  and reconstruction..    in May. a calm walk as if there were no turmoil.

Are you ready he asked the dog?
(a jangle of turquoise again)
don’t talk
don’t you talk
I found the papers 
the back of her head shattered in her own reflection.
Abandoned warehouses, whispers, pullies, columns, (can I do what I want?)
the wind was rising,
as were all things which pained.

Can a reflection break its mirror?
Do you want twenty year old evidence?
Don’t worry he said - I’ve got your back.

I replied I tried not to talk tales of talent. a variegated blend of flavors filled. at a coffee house you are supposed to talk but there are spies. one was executed I know this for a fact no I did not personally see them executed but I read about and I believe that It really happened. just in case you believe that ideology is a good enough excuse.

Ideology - Strange angle to view the house, but here we go.  Are you busy, shall I come back later? Stop making me crazy! I think there’s something going on, but that’s no excuse. Don’t worry and move your head - the lights are fierce on highways. Double, no triple lock, you’re looking good - ideally, he’ll turn around - a clone or me? Don’t be ambitious your reflection is all you’ll get.

a reflection. the analytical group in the sauna breeze. palm trees. dining on coconuts. ah this is the life. God's brokerage unit observes
the place in the kiln.


standing knee deep
in radio-activity
silent empty chair,  dressed in grey
whispers, red cloaks, closed eyes
very blue
I’m so thirsty
follow the light I heard her calling
interview termination - how did she get there?
there are conditions attached - always
she was so tall, like a misplaced Alice
not who I used to know
the birds looked strange,
floating snowflakes, mountain peaks, unreal green
will she find her way?

mountain peaks gargantuan at some point of reflex. granite. sound stone towers. elements a coelacanth begs for food somewhere in the fish tank. but first a prayer of thanks for the food. albeit combined with multiple gravitational forces shifting over the stone.

the reflection ripples and:
the music, so strange,
still following the lights
incidents - are you hungry?
The fields through the windows are               v a s t
but sometimes,
we die because we die.
freezing, but no jersey.
unanswered calls
Another Dead One.
testing in town
the catchment behind the ridge
new owners
but unfulfilled contracts.
did you do your best?

the incident report-there was  a struggle. a gun went off.
the soil
of metal
to immaterial
how do you do it all so effortlessly I asked
to do because
I left
my notes
at home.

He lost his son too.
(man and radio-activity).
narrow down the facts - who is still missing?

What is missing?

or are we still awaiting fickleness in ranks?
a human solution
some sort of political resolution?
a scientific formulation?

sanding sculptures from petrified trees
but his human eyes were cold.
if we say we have no sin
we deceive ourselves and there is no Truth in us.

It’s won,

The Mirror of Me.

a meditation.

the Buddhist monk

an annihilation of sense.

a calm.

language wanders.

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Mirrors of Mortality - David Stone (USA) Cheryl Penn (South Africa)


how can I help?
in time it may become clear
for now,
light on cave walls
is amethyst.

At odds with long life-lines.

The edge. discussion with Eric- took care of his sick mother for 6 years. He had no help. Feeling. objects. Darwinian pictures. Plato. attempt to resolve.
the wiring of brains. the programming of language. cultures. talk. laughter. (gods'). humaine beliefs. signals. aspirations. the heat in the center of the sun
and the cold in outer space.

Jasmine and Eric
 ideas to make this life
more palatable.

a turning thing
caught in the wind
of a passing train
sullen soldiers
choosing who lives or dies.

debate about chance. Eric- chance dictates all things. random principles. so many unknowns operate. conscious bridge operators. the draw bridge rises to allow a tiny sailboat to pass. motors. watching the fireworks above the skyline. losses. uncontrolled.

strange shadows
in MY mirror
life seems ten feet away
living in parallelograms.
We built  them so long ago I can’t even remember the enemy said an old man.
short long shots.

existence denied. a bombing. some believe a harsh action delivers anxious souls to paradise.

Anarchy. Brussels. Confusion.
Disruption. Death. colossal questions yesterday today
Peloponnesian War.  Battle of Liège.   Guido.
and there (s)he was
a singular reflection
mirroring mortality
who are you?
(S)he couldn’t say
desperately needed air.

I think of Guido hovering above the North Sea as a kind of angel viewing the care of the living in the sea and on land. I think of Denmark-cold waves and rocky ledges. 20,000 years of human forms. forces. ideologies. all sizes. bathing minds.

Raindrops on grey water
mirrors rivers of blood


in forests awash
how dark the days of mortal pasts
(and futures)
dare we dream they may be brighter?
fires atop the oceans
axes graveyard falling
cats call/prey caught
Gregorian chants


shattered ships.

the pirate ship. a fine merlot. women and song. species of predatory birds. a puffin streaks to the cold waves,plunges 5 feet below the surface, adjusts direction for refraction and grabs a fish for a feast back home.

crows among the living
all birds take flight
new days old ways
even refractory puffins plunge.

Crows are marvelous urban creatures-finding food on streets-walking around so awkwardly pecking at discarded plastic bags,so social
in trees-hundreds or thousands of them in groups.

mortal drowning
silver claws
braided hair
just children setting out in crowds
and strange sounds
it was a battle to the death
witches accompanying.
I’m feeling happy
but slightly mad
who would you rather travel with?
crows or people?

traveling with crows-for Guido-it was a symbol of death.  for me? I think more complicated-certainly an aspect of death- maybe difference is a partially Darwinian view.  poetic traveling with crows- Guido and I both. physically? wouldn't that be laughable? Baudelaire's albatross as metaphor of the poet- very clumsy on the ground and graceful in flight- how crows walk-so clumsily.

certainly in the physical world I must prefer travel with people.

Corvidae how curious a flock or murder of crows, poor Arne, forever a seeker of shiny things. 
Morrighan talisman.
Fay Fea.
Ulster Cycle/Red Branch Cycle
O Deidre, so tra       AAAgic, Conchobar’s wrath

the sparkle and glitter. Las Vegas entertainment. poker plots. the hotels only grow larger. how shiny a million dollars in metal coins.

Dutch legend has it that there was once a small boy who upon passing a dyke on his way to school noticed a slight leak as the sea trickled in through a small hole. Knowing that he would be in trouble if he were to be late for school, the boy pocked his finger into the hole and so stemmed the flow of water. Some time later a passerby saw him and went to get help. This came in the form of other men who were able to effect repairs on the dyke and seal up the leak. This is not a myth, it’s a tale by American writer Mary Mapes Dodge ‘Hans Brinker, or the Silver Skates - 1865.

Even holes in walls (never mind hotels)grow larger as do stories.
Mortality does not.

the growth of legends-a beginning trickle. waves. myths shattered yet beliefs continue 18

a response
to mortality?

Intriguing aspect of the theme of mortality-includes in some way every human dimension

Nemesis and Narcissus
we cannot help but give-into reflective pasts
we are the sum total of our mortal ancestors -
it ends right here buddy.
I promised I could stay
to sing a way through the stars
but kings break their promises
they’re just mortal men
the sounds of trapped birds is haunting.
Try to sleep
despite the coming storm -
even children could hear the sarcasm in his tone.
(Dare I not follow their steps?)
Becalmed and off course - were we friend or foe?
They stupidly thought death was glorious.

Reading poets of WWI-no romance about death. grim events.

I always say
when asking
give me an answer
from 1 - 10
1- Bad
10 - Excellent
I got tired of “fine”
when I felt mortal.
And I’m guessing

so were they.

a few 10's: completion of the Blackbird books (& Noah's book) and Memory Strait going into production dept at Austin Macauley. I will be seeing my friend Eric Basso tomorrow for one of our dinner/discussion meetings. new job- maybe a 2. overall feeling about life and the world- somewhere in between.  Und ihnen?
soms vlieg ek
Can we still be moved?
Always mortal
Life’s Numbers.

falling asleep-observing trees. losing and gaining sometime withdrawn analysis of memory. sometimes feeble. embossed. enumerated the evidence found.
laughter sometime pealed. a coelacanth spun homeward and learned speech.

rowing arrows floating bodies fallen oars
keep paddling
we’re rowing for our lives
lighting flash
cold dark star
his own death eludes him.
live a life worth living before you consider mortality
he couldn’t understand she understood
he hated that.
pagan rites
fully fledged
flinching in flint

The doctrines and the observations. Rode a train staring at the land rushing by. overland faces. construction. Ruah principles. people pray
and for some no time. a praying mantis climbs out of the pond,crawls on a rock, seems to slide forward and bites a leaf.

I was looking for that
exactly. a praying mantis
icecream pink, now tinged with black.
Hold this for me would you?
I’m wading in pretty deep -
definitely don’t want my coat tails wet.
Certain steps
and stops
an unstoppable direction
tracks in the woods
was someone watching in mirrors of mortality?

reflecting mirrored mortality

the last enemy to be destroyed is death.

I’d rather be dead
hitting the bottom
that’s where you need to be
before life can help you