ART, CULTURE, NATURE, EXTRA, POEMS.

THE ART OF ‘IS’.

Art is not an add-on; it’s intrinsic.
The palpable presentation of ‘is’.
No doubt be analysis, forensic.
Symbolic representations which please.

Art is exceptional amongst humans.
The expression from the earliest days
must have delighted with its illusions.
Once the ability known, not erased.

Several words have been applied to art.
Esoteric and sublime, amongst them.
Culture, of course, so art a thing apart,
but of its people, and ‘describing’ them.

Many forms and styles developed into.
The art of ‘is’ shows human potential.

ACID MOTHERS TEMPLE …

Acid Mothers Temple, together with,
The Melting Paradiso UFO
There was an ‘and’ not a ‘together with’,
on the designer poster that on show,

but I needed the extra syllables.
Also, not sure whether one group or two.
Now know one. A bit like breaking the rules,
such a long name. Could say exceptional,

this Japanese psychedelic rock band.
Experimental rock, too, they perform.
On a rock face, on the poster, they stand,
as if arrived from space, and just re-formed.

Have to say, though, a mouthful, all the same,
their ‘two for one’ extraordinary name.

THE MIDDAY MOON.

I see the midday moon that is on show.
A half globe in a weak blue, cloudless sky.
In the day, expect sight of it to go,
but at 2 p.m. still see it up high.

Admit it lacks a powerful lustre.
A misty grey over its continents.
But, until dark, the best it can muster.
Then, brighter at night, on this evidence.

An intrusion upon the Sun’s domain;
on its time to dominate the heavens.
This change of presence, may need to explain.
Pro-active, or not gone through indolence?

In future, we may have to change our tune,
and sing more often of the midday moon.

MAN AND DOG.

An unusual collaboration,
man and wolf, later evolved into dog.
Not aware of the full explanation.
Perhaps the primate acting like a god.

Or maybe, friendly and good company.
Once trusted each other, deemed to be safe.
Connection with food, inevitably.
Combined to kill their prey, and share the taste.

Guards, of course, and alerters to dangers.
Defenders against would-be predators.
A deterrence to unwelcome strangers.
Yet, all the while, to master dog defers.

Sharing warmth and comfort; and loyalty.
Worth it to both to end hostility.

HOW TO BE A BAD CHRISTIAN.

“For good measure that is a good measure”,
the vicar in the pub, not the pulpit
said, “for you to enjoy at your leisure,
with God’s blessing. Don’t think who’s the culprit.

“He who’s without sin can cast the first stone.
And what is done is done. Can’t alter, boy.
I can face the music. I can atone.
Drink up. Think, tidings of comfort and joy”.

The Church collection put to a good use.
Drink or two in the cause of conversion.
For the religion. That’s not an excuse.
With conversation. Not by coercion.

And lubricated. Could say that’s God’s will.
Holy water, to this. A miracle!

RAY’S SONG. (WE ARE.)

We are shadows in a doorway. We are.
We are echoes in the subway. We are.
We are brake lights on the freeway. We are.
We are tail lights on the runway. We are.

We are fragrance in the slipstream. We are.
We are radiance shimmering. We are.
We are here now in our own dream. We are.
We are prospect delivering. We are.

We are in this crystal cadence. We are.
We are beautiful rough diamonds. We are.
We are transparent and yet dense. We are.
We are complex simple simons. We are.

We are warm breath in the airwaves. We are.
We are footsteps on the stairway. We are.

NEON … LED.

Neon signs replaced by LED lights
which do not shimmer. Clearer and brighter.
Colours included to dress-up the nights.
Come around. Come in. Acts as enticer.

There was a sleazy element back then.
Was it to do with a phosphorescence?
Or the flickering there was, now and then?
Or association with girls present?

Used for advertising and the night scene.
Some could change. Present different pictures.
Immediate … accessible … make seem.
Said ‘might satisfy’, these bright-lit fixtures.

Now it’s down to this new technology.
But it’s not as we knew neon to be.

SIMONY

Simony, buying way into heaven,
or for a title not rightly bestowed.
Unofficially, only, it given.
Not by proper authority allowed.

The Pope would certainly not be impressed,
although transactions for such in the past.
Money paid, in the clergy’s interest,
to somewhere secret, with no questions asked.

Blessing received, so acknowledged with grace.
Then shown on the recipient’s c.v.
Be deemed good and devout when face God’s face.
Process, though, corrupted by simony.

Antipathy to this ‘religious’ crime,
which beyond the church, happens all the time.

THIS SONNET (IAMBIC PENTAMETER).

Oh Hell! Not easy, poetry this way.
The emphasis on second syllable.
It will take time as with the words do play,
whilst never being sure that capable.

I am not certain that correctly done.
It may not be that absolutely so.
It takes some thinking does perfecting one.
Pretend that I indubitably know.

This, iambic pentameter, I say.
My claim, I think, is justifiable.
If there is criticism to allay,
I’d say my judgment’s most reliable.

This sonnet is a sonnet, ‘stress’ in place.
The ‘seconds’ weighted. Just about the case.

WORDPLAY.

1961. 1691.
9116. 6119.
Years in my head, I think a bit of fun.
Turned on their head, they remain the same thing.

With a few words able to do the same.
If swims upside down, not just the backstroke.
Still swims according to my reading brain.
Could grass-up mow. Makes cut for sure, no joke.

Then there is the three-double-letter words.
Mississippi the one that qualifies.
But, where-next-to-each-other, this occurs,
very very few the language provides.

Bookkeeping or bookkeeper all I know.
Strange, the wordplay in this poem on show.

Overheard (sort of) Ones
Poems Deathly