The Sea

Calmly    the    wearied     seamen 

rest  beneath  their  own  blue  sea

The      ocean        solitudes       are

blessed    for     there     is     purity

Earth has guilt - the  earth has care

unquiet     are     its     graves    and

peaceful   sleep   is   never    there*

*Intersections: Poetry&Mathematics—A square: the number of syllables in a line equals the number of lines, 7x7. 

Thought from Nathaniel Hawthorne

Quadratic

minus b

plus or minus root(b squared

minus four times a times c) — all above divided

by two times a — this is the quadratic formula and is absolutely correct*

*Intersections: Math & Poetry. Form based on quadratic equation, ax^2 + bx + c = y; the number of syllables per stanza is y for a=b=c=1 and x=1,2,3,4…n, e.g., stanza 1 is 3 syllables long, 1+1+1, stanza 2 is 4+2+1 long, &c. 

cold

when the year

grows old - how I hate the cold

 

October - November - the swallow

goes down - follows

  

the sky - brown leaves brittle on the ground - the wind in the chimney sighs - melancholy sound

soft spitting snow - bare boughs rubbing to and fro - but the roaring of the fire -the warmth - the light - the boiling kettle - bright happy sight

traffic

strife of

commuters

all stalled at the lights

single driver ev'ry car

steel shells contain resentments

sunbeams

seed of the world sown

geometry of sunbeams

natures foundation

Arc [haiku]

arc - parabola

life - our parabolic bow 

ends that never meet

stream

what do I care

that the stream flows

its sandbank holds

your cold footprint

a vignette

pHe

is

in fact

a poet -

he really is a

poet - and a real horse trainer.

He has held one-term jobs at various colleges -

but never so far away that he can't keep in touch with the stables. He gives readings -

but only - as he says - once in a blue moon - he doesn't stress the poetic employment - sometimes this is annoying this - affectation -

 

but one can see the point - when you're busy with horses people can see that you are busy - but when you're busy at making up a poem you look as if you're in a state of idleness and you're too embarrassed to explain.

introspection i

I

take a

peek inside my

mind - animal happiness find

It’s beautifully identifiable intelligence - that

space - electrically bioelectrogenetically multidisciplinarianismic creativity place