Showing posts with label limited edition chapbook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label limited edition chapbook. Show all posts

Tuesday, 22 November 2016

The Mirror of Me. David Stone/Cheryl Penn

The Mirror of Me


David Stone
Cheryl Penn


ME.
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
hooded
searching
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
underground
suspended between life and death
never living
too blind to see
life,
Truth
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
seriously
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
cogitated
dilemma
stamped
by art
a blank
ened
state
migrants
millions
pasted
in auracularites
sped
diction
inspected
grasped
first
a fine
filament
impeded
waited
into
pteradactyl
styles.

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.

Delaminations.

The paint peeled.

Outside.

Bright.

Reckoned.

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

PART TWO

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
hallucinating?
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
turnstiles
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.
address
souls
tangents
the soil
soldering
points
of metal
to immaterial
bone
construction
how do you do it all so effortlessly I asked
God
oh
that
part
is
very
easy
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.

Friday, 14 August 2015

In Cemeteries (Cheryl Penn)


In Cemeteries 

what are you doing here?
why did you come?
do you want the true Truth?
the irony of upside down?
the nature of our world?
Its what every character says
before they die
just ANOTHER
secret story. 


visions and war, flags
burdened waters
you will help me?
I plead the mercy of a King.
your fate is your design
no one
to guide me through

off world dreams.


no other serious applicants -
and therein lies our future -
there are no other
candidates
for dust to dust
except us,
humanity.


he killed for her
he loved her
and she him.
BUT the gaping hole
in his heart
he never saw that coming.
she floated
to the top
of her secrets
Open your ears
they NEVER stop hearing
there’s a world in your world
dwellings
this place joined
here
to
there.


this is
the music of my head
I heard it
and suspected
you heard it too
the only thing of value
I could have written
meeting again and again
in different ages
it is not yours or mine,
it is ours.


Out you come
the biggest mistake
of my life
I was worried
before I decided -
I’ve seen too much of the world
- death
been too long a slave
the pain is strong (so strong)
how can we be friends?


what do you need?
what are you reading?
Old letters
the plot has taken
a sensual turn
a ghost writer
a mystery.

the explosion
the music of my dream
the fragment
that killed me
I fell
over the bridge
hitting the water
running
the manuscript drowned.


belief like fear
climbing rocks
in one direction
headed two ways.
Forces remaking
time and space
continue
after we perish
moment to moment
we understand
a new potential direction

is this possible?



tombstones
set in cherry blossoms
new life
sweeping the dead.

the silence between the notes
the best sound of all.

death
its an old recording -
honestly?
He cant stop listening to life
a symphony of beauty
a handful of copies
I know I know it
4 days of paradise
what were the chances
she still breathed here?
its cold among the granite.


There WAS a choice
continue as planned -
or die.


Most of the report
was destroyed
If I help it will be worth the war
take me to the secret garden
where weather is whether
the trip is fall.
A hunger in their hearts
for what?
for more.

you need to rest
let me concoct
the secrets of death
vaulted relationships  
past lives
laughing
at each other
and yet,
I cant explain
when I opened
that door
I knew your secrets.

While the past may call
with enchantments
of Sirens
a coward chooses
the weak way
the secrets of his heart
known to all
except himself.
touch the controls
reveal the sepulchers
if the tides keep rising
the world will be under water
in 50 days
so - that’s the secret?
throw the bones
see the seer
through here
its not what you’re used to
but
I think you will like it.


Why did you cover for me?
Freedom?
the seductive nature of civilization?
what should we do with you?
 - The problem you create
 - is a celestial problem.
Intriguing that
beneath
there are thoughts
that
terrify (Concord),
The Truth is
what happened
to the agent of Discord?


Chalice on a grave
I found her,
looking for the answers
take over,
Introduce our tribe
I was supposed  
to be at war
a minefield of secrets
the setting sun
made EVERYTHING
nervous.

did you know the secret of him?
no,
but it wouldn’t have mattered
it was the first time
I was shown kindness.


The sobbing
the holding
the secret trade.
the blossoms fall
and you look lovely.
his life in video
and the coward didn’t know.
What are you doing in my room?
Reading my books,
pinching my pockets
a disappointing start.
I am ( . . . . .)
you do NOT wish to cross me.


bare chested
he
f
e
l
l
a victim
of eternity
PLEASE DON’T SHOOT
as he flew
and we set sail
as soft as lead
an addition to our crew.


No bridge!
FOCUS!
the gap
the yaw
stay with me
I wont let you go
as we cross
the abyss
and haul a stowaway
from his hiding
a shot
machine guns
steady - solid - fire
I have you
I will hold you
as we set sail
like never before.


Are you leaving?
Yes!
Tidal Styx
To the land of the dead.
I have better things
to do
than turn to dust
this
planet is flying
and the castle glowering
robbing a man
of everything.

//How do you know about
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn//?
Kok Terek and Cancer Ward
a single drop
in a limitless
Anguish Ocean.


in my life
it began again
 - wait!
it was all
so clear a minute ago -
the secrets are slipping away
a gulf between these bridges
transcendence of language
what are you doing?
they’ve found us!

Your heart is slower
than ours
its comforting
what time is it??
I’ve heard a melody
grab a pen
a dream
a nightmare café
no way out
the waitresses
the same face
not like any I’ve ever seen.

The mark in his neck,
the scar
it was a secret
the mountain way
a mirror
and for the first time
I was allowed to see
who I was
and who I might become.
I.E.
Their last hope
of genetically modified support.

Who will walk you through
the details of your questions/
That closed door -
THAT was what death would do.


Have you ANY idea what time it is -
I’ve invested for 12 years
you’ve had your fun
put an end to this game
why are you doing this?
the better question -
what have you done to deserve this -
I didn’t mean to hurt you
sorry
your penance is too late
     he sends his love.
     O the perfect horror.



Book made for
An Encyclopedia of Everything - The Expanded Version,
May 2015.

A series of chapbooks of 9 chapbook and 1 book. 
Online Version available on:

Photographs  courtesy of Marie Wintzer (Japan) taken in Yanaka cemetery, Tokyo.