Saturday, 3 May 2014

What If? Petru Viljoen/Cheryl Penn (South Africa)

What if 
Petru Viljoen/Cheryl Penn

If I used that it would work but 
I'd like to see
to see what's behind that
one there, over there,
and what 
what would happen 
if I opened it.

I opened
And paper windmills started
Burning.
Their ash scattered
As
Great winds from the north
Moved pre-breathed air
Into my space.

scraps of paper, written
here, written there
(whirling)
snatched at as it
flies by in
the age of information.

I choke on the
ooze of incomprehension

We get it
No we don’t
Or did we –
I just cant say.
Deep in,
The thinner thicket
thickened.
Words called.
Branches once laden
With Librettos pleaded.
Scripts being picked off
One
By
One.


By anyone
I tell you, I tell you
the scripts were picked off by anyone
one by one,
those branches were once laden
with a manner of speaking..

It told of this, of how
it was and it told
of that of why
it were
but now those branches
are barren.

Sparrow barren
Barren sparse spark.
Which is it to be?
I ask today, today today
What if
Today I spin out of sync
With reality?
Locked in a litany of eulogies
My sun starts to set.
Panegyrics panic
Librettos’ laugh -
Did you ever see such a thing in your life
As three blind mice.

Not to talk of the farmers' wife -
The Queen of Spades is coming to tea.
Bloody Mary anyone?

Contrariness of Mary: a discussion.
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Should we, or should we not?
That's the question!

In the meantime ...
The blind mice crept around
and found a quiet corner.
Just then was heard a great shout.
What about? What about?
The roar of the crowd quite
woke the three blind mice from
their restorative nap. And then
please note, ...
ladies and gentlemen!
Do you, or do you not
have a pen and paper?


Jim elbowed Jane
dear, I taste a tear
in my T
Sshhh
The jabberwocky sups.
Alice hands out papyrus
And quill
The mice wait.
The Queen of Spades
Digs
Into minds not her own
Seeking
She knows not what -
An Elusive
An Evanescent
An Ephemeral
A transitory moment
With which to complete her dinner.


What if, what if, indeed,
what if enigmatic
would do what has to be DONE?

A chestire smile spread
the ladies and the gentlemen
licked the tips of their quills
and decidedly dipped it in the ink.

Wide-eyed Alice wondered,
Jabberwocky ate long,
the mice quivered,
Jane elbowed Jim, write on!
Right on!
Grisaliously, the queen of spades
looked at the shades ...

Enigmatic Static
Rudimentary Pie
Would you like custard with that my dear?
Decided dips
Smacking lips
Elementary excavating by the Queen.
Ladies and Gentle
Men
I have an
Announce
Meant:
Would the owner of the
floating
Lost Ephemeral
Please remove it from my soup.

Then pass me the ècuelle
please, madame
since ephemera ain't
what you dig.

It may just maybe suit, just
the ecaudate mice
who will, in a trice,
lap up the soup.
It's their strength they're in sore need
to recoup.

The queen goes hungry
and it makes her angry
that she had to raid the pantry
herself.

Alice, Jim and Jane
aristocratic women, docile men
duly  evidenced
echolalia

Eeish!
Jim scratched his head
Assaulted by stray
Echophemomenas and Echopraxias
In their pantry paltry escape.
The queeny now greedy
Of everything not hers
yelled in her aristocratic way -
I’m culling/annihilating/scrapping
The Elusive Ephemera.
A bellow from the corner
revealed
the lost page (229)
from Gibbons
Fall and Rise of the Roman Empire -
WHO’S FOR PUD???
ALL FALL INTO LINE!

What's for pud? I'd rather know
And I'm not standing alone in no line
for any either! What's this? A soup kitchen?
And Who's this queen anyway?
What's she got
or haven't and on about howling.
From Chicago to Paris
She has me Beat at that
hotel where there were almost
always
only minutes to go. Ephemera?
Some Londoners might mind you
know. When there are centuries
to read.
Jim! Alice wants her tea.
Please. Here and Now.

the shuffle of slapping slippers
along a winding corridor floor
a rabbit asleep in a far flung
corner.
Alice rubs tired eyes
awake from a weird -
DREEEM?
morning my dear says Mavis
large bosom
bustling with early
Bolshoi brevity
bursting from her copious chest-
Bread and milk my little Peach?
Mavis?!
thought Alice
where’s Jim?

Jim is  in Chicago.  He went on tip toe.
Jane turned into a cROW, yet she'll be back in a mo'
Mavis let the mILK flow
Alice went on a go sLOW
The mICE found a BurRough
the queen has the mad hatter in TOw.  OW!

(Don't let her know
about Mavis!)

HOW contrary Don Quixote
that you fell in love
with the farmer's wife
while fighting windmills
all in a row.

It was an elastic day,
this
Aristotelian time of pure ethics.
Quixote brandished his
four causes to the wind,
digged Rocinanto in his
Plato place
and
sang his swam song.
The road was a ghostly
Galleon
Tossed upon cucumber and cheese
STOP! HALT!
the word police yelled -
FREEZE!


Oh PuhLeasE! To be compelled
thus in a manner of speech
is, indeed, most, MOST I note ...

SILENCE!!

Uh? Okay! But ... why?!
Sitting in the dock, -stretching time ...
...  Plato's shadows on the wall -
ephemeral, hypnotic, inner thicket,
intrinsically reflecting extrensic;
then! - on the Night of the Moon ...
ladies were distressed.
The knighted men approached  ...

OBJECTION!!

But your Honour!
What,  we gently meant to say: WHAT if ...

SILENCE!!

Oh! WHY?!

Your HoNOur!


(I wish Ari would hurry on
his perambulatory wondering.)

Is this wrong? yOUR H(on)OUR?


A screech
Of brakes
Brought What If to
Verse Nineteen Honour-ish.
We need at this moment
to produce evidence in situ of
proximity to publishing
post modern posits on pretentious
commercial cultural clutter
OBJECTION!!
What twaddle
What twittering
What clattering claptrap!

Confusion reigned,
the Queen of hearts absconded
in a cloud of elegant peanut butter.


I'm never buying that Black Cat stuff again
what IF the queen ...
Jim! Jiiiim! Wake up!
Huh? Oh! Where ...? OH!
Jim?
Eyes rubbed clear of sleep
a mouse scurrelled, peeped
and was gone.

Wide eyed now, wondering
Jim looked at Jane
who was pondering.
Jim's incomprehension.

Like Jim,
The pudding was overripe
Incomprehension, born
a weathered tattoo
to most
who sip a nectar combo
(not on the Wimpy breakfast menu)
of blankness and perplexed saline sap.
Those deep within its grasp
do not hear
What If?
What if they awake
From the daze of bafflement
To LIVE a
What If Life.

What Then?

Tuesday, 15 April 2014

Mid-Day Here and There (Book 1) - Cheryl Penn (South Africa)/ David Stone (Usa) - (Collaborative Poetry Book 2 )

Cheryl Penn (South Africa)/David Stone (USA)
Mid-Day Here and There


In-between the middle of
A Cimmerian day –
Extinct Herodotus
The sun is heated here.
Chartreuse boiled pavements /  melting tar
Hot shadows too tired to follow
Ambivalent owners.






& Thucydides' objective Fiction
wherein
is the wonder
of the reels
of the last past.

Widened cracks in worn pavements -
Fissure abyss by an unsettled sun
Amphipolis exile
Chopin fluster number 5.
Agitation - 
Time to knock on walls of
An empty world -
Ticking clocks,
setting suns
the day slowly unwinds.

The beat of the sun I had done the time colonized apt
sweated the beast
earlier
much
we sung
Musickal
shaken
waited
Ra's
alphabetical
plunge.

“tiny bead of life” in a count-down
Abacus
to a shorter day.
As Red As Rubicund Blood
As Red as Ra
As Red as a day reducing
Mid day moves from here to there
Ra Ra Bocce
But Silence still shouts at the Bridges of Between.

Ra
rated; behind the soundstage
the fireball filled
the messengers.
fuel.
ozone
facts
filtered
the cinematic trial.

Midday Today
No Cinema Nouveau
Sirens/guns toi-toi/chants  disordered fireball-real.
Messengers of Chaos
Another trial.
“Bring petrol, I’ve got matches
we’ll set their cars on fire”
anger redder than a ruby sun,
Chopin plays on.

the muse of the streets on Broadway ill disposed tonite I bought wrought iron rings songs fires
I tromped paid cash lied all night however
ill
dispossessed
rings
diadems
entropies
caught
at night
the night that we brought
cleansed
performance
agents.

Noon too nite
In the shadows of a thousand clocks
time 
urging them on.
There is no stay to atrophy
No diadem for entropy
No cleansing of performance
No dispossession of license
To live
THIS life this night this minute this yoctosecond this quark. 


Dispossession-the quill
the quotient
the mind
Gehirngeist
spoke
spokes
rotated
the drum
foil
above
the green
blue
sea
scape.


Alone in the flavor  of a Quark
Looked like a green blue sea -
  Strange up down bottom charm up
Locked in a litany of eulogies
My sun starts to set.
Panegyrics panic
Bats bolt
And we
Stand
at the fringes of our lives
Watching
Eons unfurl.


We walked.
Traveled
around the sea
water
pieces
of time
expired
long
wait
soldered
and spoke.

The sun through a hole in the sky
Is Aurora borealis bright
particles colliding over the walked round see.
Tick tock
Seconds lock
Expiration implodes and
Time bears all her sons away.
Its just mid day -
We have a thousand hours to go -
To stay
To wait
To soldier
To muster
To master
To BREATHE
This tiniest bead of life.

The breath in winter being tempered
attempt
to cry
best
yelled
at
the breeding
sun.

The wind changed -
The rock of Oreb
Came into view
Un-By-Passed by an avenging angel
People part like split atoms
under the nib of Agrippa the Skeptic.
Heat splintered shards of rain and tears
Do but pierce the veil of uncertainty -
The way is never clear.

a selection
sought
i
paid
cash
at the bar.
watched
people whistle in.
the smell
of chargrill
as oil
dripped
over
a flaming table.


Abstract Conscious Construct
In which I dwell
selection at sea
no place to hide
relentless tide
chargrilled to perfection.
A minute so short
a lifetime second
oil seeps
through and stains the
Bar
All
From
Here –
And there.

the objection
the crowd
sat
drinking
and spilling
secrets?
from the vault
offfended
some
special
promise.

Paper coasters
Sullied spilled secrets
Picasso  coffee stains.
Crowds throng -
Are you lost?
red is my favorite colour
I like your hair
where did you buy your dress
WHO is that
another please…
G & T - with bitters?

Mince and Rice
Soap thrashing in the
Washing
Machine -
Your Objection Was Mute.
the bar hordes cheered -
out of time with Liszt.
La campanella S t r e t c h.

yes I wandered into the crowded aisle
I cannot
see
the beach
I swam
and forgot
to swallow
air.
lungfish lunged
priceward.


isolate the crowd
the machine gun chatter -
dune beach wind
stinging salted sand
dark tone heaven heavy 
on
low key green
tumbling foam
Of a mercury sea.
To see is not at stake here

Or there.

at stake the attached
attachee
weight
zone
elements
being
seen
cleaned
the whole forest
stall
it is empty
now
and glowed
with supper.

We wrench
from words
an inexorable
infinity
one
at
a
time.

The spoke gained time
we wrenched
sought
absolution?
per diem.
Theocrats
stuffed
articles
congealed
in the congress.


There can be no absolution
from a man and his spokes congress
time splinters
godless crusades
versus
Josephus theocracy.
‘man’
minces
masters
mangles
a manacled moment
with which to wrest
from
the pillar of fire by night.


a thought
crossed
my table
a tableture
sprinkled
you don't know history
said Jasmine
I tried
we visited
the Oriental Institute.
I looked
at the ancient
knives.
tableware.
silver.
goblets.
pardon.
I beg
forgive me
I thought
across
the dark
bleak
avenue.

Did you knock
history enquired
an aging institution in itself.
Tear Lined Avenues
Awash with the past
Wait
With bated knives.
I drove through
Warrick Triangle
To get to work -
I have no words
to say
to
pay
to lay
me down before I sleep.

THE KNOCK.
the lock.
open it.
come in.
later.
life.
evolved.
a federal file


unopened.


the pivotal knock
perfectly precise
Most times called The End.
closed files
stuck turnstiles
apples falling silently in
federal fishtanks.
midday  evolution revolution
has to sway
here
and there
trapped in the noon day sun.

The knock.
the time frame of the big band was one trillionth of one trillionth of one trillionth of one second.
Lord Berkeley covered his eyes with his hands,could not see this cataclysmic event occur,
to be is to be perceived
in
side
the per
i
scopic
site
of
this
fever


ed end.