The house is still as a painted boat
On a painted sea,
Showing posts with label Jack brummet poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack brummet poem. Show all posts
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Friday, August 28, 2015
Poem: The 1950's
By Jack Brummet
The 1950s were about
The American Jitters: The Day The Earth Stood Still
Huntley Brinkley, The Thing, Ed Murrow, The Blob
Fidel, Godzilla, Senator Joe McCarthy, Gorgo
Who will own the moon,
Wild-eyed Nikita pounded his loafers on TV
As he promised to bury us,
The Cold War ignited on Ike's watch,
Jack Kennedy inherited the residue,
Alarms shrieked duck and cover,
Dad was in the basement,
Sandbagging the jam closet,
And caching beans and gasoline.
We scared ourselves for good
And grew up to fear nothing but nothing itself.
---o0o---
The American Jitters: The Day The Earth Stood Still
Huntley Brinkley, The Thing, Ed Murrow, The Blob
Fidel, Godzilla, Senator Joe McCarthy, Gorgo
Who will own the moon,
Wild-eyed Nikita pounded his loafers on TV
As he promised to bury us,
The Cold War ignited on Ike's watch,
Jack Kennedy inherited the residue,
Alarms shrieked duck and cover,
Dad was in the basement,
Sandbagging the jam closet,
And caching beans and gasoline.
We scared ourselves for good
And grew up to fear nothing but nothing itself.
---o0o---
Thursday, August 27, 2015
poem: The Cover-up
By Jack Brummet
The logical beauty of cover-up theories
Is they can never actually be refuted,
But snowball with every new telling.
The absence of facts
Further inflames the conspiracy theory:
Points to the utter, diabolical
Efficacy of the cover-up.
The logical beauty of cover-up theories
Is they can never actually be refuted,
But snowball with every new telling.
The absence of facts
Further inflames the conspiracy theory:
The
lack of facts
Points to the utter, diabolical
Efficacy of the cover-up.
---o0o---
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Poem: Convergence
By Jack Brummet
It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every river, spring, raindrop, creek,
and swamp,
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
---o0o---
It is one ocean with many names
And into the ocean, sooner or later, flows
Every lake, lagoon, aquifer, mudpuddle, and pond,
Every snowflake, icicle, glacier, flood, bay, and teardrop.
---o0o---
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Poem: Joshua Brought Down Jericho
By Jack Brummet
Jericho was locked down tighter than a submarine.
It made Helms Deep and Fort Knox look porous.
Joshua studied the walls, scoping a way inside,
When a man with whirling gaslight eyes appeared
And grew ten feet tall and five feet wide.
It was The Lamplighter himself. "Take the shoes
From your feet on my holy ground,
And follow the ark, with seven priests with seven trumpets.”
Seven priests tooting seven horns led a parade
Around and around and around Jericho
Like Sambo marched the tigers around the tree,
Or the way the earth spins in the dark around the sun.
They marched in silence six long days.
On the seventh day they lit out at dawn
Behind the seven priests and seven trumpets
And marched around the city seven times.
After the seventh orbit, the priests blew a cadenza.
And the roar swelled each passing minute.
Every man, woman, boy, and girl,
―Young, old, red, yellow, black, and white―
And every critter, bird, and bug
Was buried in the rubble and dust
As the walls came tumbling down. ----o0o----
It made Helms Deep and Fort Knox look porous.
Joshua studied the walls, scoping a way inside,
When a man with whirling gaslight eyes appeared
And grew ten feet tall and five feet wide.
It was The Lamplighter himself. "Take the shoes
From your feet on my holy ground,
And follow the ark, with seven priests with seven trumpets.”
Seven priests tooting seven horns led a parade
Around and around and around Jericho
Like Sambo marched the tigers around the tree,
Or the way the earth spins in the dark around the sun.
They marched in silence six long days.
On the seventh day they lit out at dawn
Behind the seven priests and seven trumpets
And marched around the city seven times.
After the seventh orbit, the priests blew a cadenza.
And the roar swelled each passing minute.
Every man, woman, boy, and girl,
―Young, old, red, yellow, black, and white―
And every critter, bird, and bug
Was buried in the rubble and dust
As the walls came tumbling down. ----o0o----
Poem: Escape
By Jack Brummet
Some of us try astral projection.
The rest of us
leave in dinghies, bikes, and cars,
Racing down
highways, expressways,
Streets and boulevards.
Streets and boulevards.
A continent of smoking skull orchard
---o0o---
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Poem: Prayer In Istanbul
By Jack Brummet
Art by Jack Brummet - The Blue Mosque
Art by Jack Brummet - The Blue Mosque
1.
On a dusty cobblestone street
I hear three muezzins
In three directions
Call people to prayer
At three mosques,
With a slight delay
Between the calls.
Three chanters in three different rooms
Sing the same song
In phase-shifted rounds
Through nine silver speakers
Mounted on three
Ivory-white minarets
Capped in gleaming cerulean blue.
2.
At the washing stations,
Water splashes from brass spigots
Into pale grey limestone basins.
The faithful wash,
Bag their sandals,
And for the fourth time since dawn,
Walk onto the lush carpet
Of the cool quiet mosque
Tiled in words and symbols.
3.
They kneel, face the wall
And pray one more time.
I don’t know what they pray for,
But when I see their faces
And watch their devotions,
I know it’s something good.
4.
It’s so still and calm
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
---o0o---
On a dusty cobblestone street
I hear three muezzins
In three directions
Call people to prayer
At three mosques,
With a slight delay
Between the calls.
Three chanters in three different rooms
Sing the same song
In phase-shifted rounds
Through nine silver speakers
Mounted on three
Ivory-white minarets
Capped in gleaming cerulean blue.
2.
At the washing stations,
Water splashes from brass spigots
Into pale grey limestone basins.
The faithful wash,
Bag their sandals,
And for the fourth time since dawn,
Walk onto the lush carpet
Of the cool quiet mosque
Tiled in words and symbols.
3.
They kneel, face the wall
And pray one more time.
I don’t know what they pray for,
But when I see their faces
And watch their devotions,
I know it’s something good.
4.
It’s so still and calm
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
---o0o---
Sunday, August 02, 2015
Poem: Dasvidaniya, Ivan Ivanovitch
By Jack Brummet
Dasvidaniya, Ivan Ivanovitch,
Living life like it couldn't last.
Each day you feel the marrrow diminish
And each week ending is a week too fast
From which there is no turning back.
So you cinch it up tight and leave no slack
To slip through those towering gates,
Relieved from duty in these United States,
Where you were born but never fit.
Now the powers that be coil and spit
As their venomed fangs are bared.
You want to abandon ship, but never dared
And paced and tried to raise the nerve,
Knowing or praying, hoping for the call
Before stumbling into that last blind curve.
It never came and now you sit and wait,
And swear this time you'll play it straight,
Hovering in circles until you stall.
---o0o---
Dasvidaniya, Ivan Ivanovitch,
Living life like it couldn't last.
Each day you feel the marrrow diminish
And each week ending is a week too fast
From which there is no turning back.
So you cinch it up tight and leave no slack
To slip through those towering gates,
Relieved from duty in these United States,
Where you were born but never fit.
Now the powers that be coil and spit
As their venomed fangs are bared.
You want to abandon ship, but never dared
And paced and tried to raise the nerve,
Knowing or praying, hoping for the call
Before stumbling into that last blind curve.
It never came and now you sit and wait,
And swear this time you'll play it straight,
Hovering in circles until you stall.
---o0o---
Monday, July 27, 2015
33 very short poems
By Jack Brummet
Stealth
The host and tenant lock
Each valley followed by a slope.
Every going followed by a return.
Bricks tumble into the moat.
The king's body hangs naked from the flagpole.
---o0o---
For a fleeting moment
A roiling thunderstorm clears the air
Like Wyatt Earp's peacekeeper
---o0o---
A bad beginning can be overcome
But a good end lasts forever
In your chest beats the heart of a Good Samaritan
Who never quite got off the starting blocks
---o0o---
Dodgeball
We weave around and through
You think one thing,
Say another,
And do a third.
---o0o---
The host and tenant lock
In benign
equilibrium.
---o0o---
Each valley followed by a slope.
Every going followed by a return.
---o0o---
There is no
relief without an ache,
And no virus without a host.
And no virus without a host.
---o0o---
Bricks tumble into the moat.
The king's body hangs naked from the flagpole.
---o0o---
For a fleeting moment
The condition
for change exists.
---o0o---
---o0o---
A roiling thunderstorm clears the air
Like Wyatt Earp's peacekeeper
---o0o---
A bad beginning can be overcome
But a good end lasts forever
---o0o---
When you
strip away the stage flats, makeup, and costumes,
It’s all one
story starring our private heroes and dreams.
---o0o---
Resurrection
He was ready to live again
Even if living just meant running
To keep ahead of the ghosts.
Even if living just meant running
To keep ahead of the ghosts.
---o0o---
It’s so still and calm
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
---o0o---
In the mosque,
You could hear a fly expire.
---o0o---
The Marriage
Two tattered mannequins
Prop each other up
In the Salvation Army Store window
---o0o---
Prop each other up
In the Salvation Army Store window
---o0o---
Gone Fishing
As the forests swamps and
bones turn slowly to coal
The last pterodactyl
Soars overhead, calling for a friend.
---o0o---
The last pterodactyl
Soars overhead, calling for a friend.
---o0o---
It's so quiet you hear
dust motes six feet up
bump in shafts of sunlight.
---o0o---
dust motes six feet up
bump in shafts of sunlight.
---o0o---
Take the worst that could
happen
And add two zeros.
And add two zeros.
---o0o---
High fidelity clouds
gather over
The tattered stage flats of a world on fire.
The tattered stage flats of a world on fire.
---o0o---
It's Getting Crowded
We cover the earth with
Venn Diagrams
As our steps bisect old
steps.
---o0o---
---o0o---
The glass is not half-full
I saw our dreams disappear
Like a white pony
Over a low grassy hill.
---o0o---
Like a white pony
Over a low grassy hill.
---o0o---
The Golden Rule
Listen to the songbirds
trill
But keep an eye
On the buzzard section.
---o0o---
But keep an eye
On the buzzard section.
---o0o---
An orchard of salt pillars
Circles Gomorrah's ashes:
Lot's Wife had no name.
Circles Gomorrah's ashes:
Lot's Wife had no name.
---o0o---
If I don’t
write it down
The words race away
Like a hit and run driver
The words race away
Like a hit and run driver
---o0o---
Your Wooden Leg
Run if you still can.
Drag that wooden leg behind you,
Drag that wooden leg behind you,
But keep up, jogging after
your pipe-dream.
---o0o---
Weather Report
Life is a raindrop
Sizzling as it skitters
Across the universal griddle.
---o0o---
Sizzling as it skitters
Across the universal griddle.
---o0o---
"And after all, what
is a lie? ’Tis but the truth in masquerade"
The truth exists; the lie
must be created.
---o0o---
---o0o---
Waiting
There is no tomorrow
until we get through
the day after yesterday
---o0o---
Possibilities
In your chest beats the heart of a Good Samaritan
Who never quite got off the starting blocks
---o0o---
Torches & Pitchforks
The whole
Is far less than the sum
Of its parts:
---o0o---
Is far less than the sum
Of its parts:
---o0o---
Mission Statement
The Army has
two duties—
To break
things, and kill people;
Everything
else is just fluff and overhead.
---o0o---
---o0o---
Dodgeball
We weave around and through
Unseen hazards and shoals,
Always feeling less safe
Always feeling less safe
Than we actually are.
---o0o---
The Odds
Simple probability and
statistics
Tell us ineluctably that the more times
You stick your head In the lion's mouth,
The more likely it is that one day he will close it.
Tell us ineluctably that the more times
You stick your head In the lion's mouth,
The more likely it is that one day he will close it.
---o0o---
The Man In The Mirror
There's a civil war in his
head:
Lobe against lobe.
---o0o---
Lobe against lobe.
---o0o---
Falling per se is not a bad thing.
The problems arise when falling
Becomes not falling, or, the uncontrolled landing problem.
The problems arise when falling
Becomes not falling, or, the uncontrolled landing problem.
---o0o---
The Return Of The Kings
We never picture the aliens
Coming in peace
Because we never came in peace.
---o0o---
Coming in peace
Because we never came in peace.
---o0o---
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Poem: The Quest
By Jack Brummet
It’s all one story—
Of incredible coherence and constance,
Encompassing all you know,
All you don’t know you know,
And all you one day will know.
There is more
To be
Our myths flourish and spread,
Person to person,
With mystical scenes,
Quests, and tales of greatness.
When you strip away
Starring private heroes and dreams.
---o0o---
It’s all one story—
A ragged
shape-shifting
tale
Of incredible coherence and constance,
Encompassing all you know,
All you don’t know you know,
And all you one day will know.
There is more
To be
seen,
tasted,
heard,
and felt
Than can ever be known or told.
Than can ever be known or told.
Our myths flourish and spread,
Person to person,
And the mysteries of the seas and skies and stars
Fill our collective conscience
With mystical scenes,
Quests, and tales of greatness.
These myths, tales, and fables
Cannot be invented or denied.
Cannot be invented or denied.
When you strip away
The stage flats, makeup, and
costumes,
It’s all one storyStarring private heroes and dreams.
---o0o---
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Poem: I don't believe
By Jack Brummet
I don't believe in
transubstantiation
I don't believe in Papal Infallibility
I don't believe in no-knock warrants
I don't believe in the divine right of kings
I don't believe in smooth jazz
I don't believe in rock instrumentals
I don't believe in jazz vocals
I don't believe in the Second Amendment
I don't believe in Papal Infallibility
I don't believe in no-knock warrants
I don't believe in the divine right of kings
I don't believe in smooth jazz
I don't believe in rock instrumentals
I don't believe in jazz vocals
I don't believe in the Second Amendment
I don't believe in the
Trilateral Commission
I don't believe in the
international Jewish banking conspiracy
I don't believe in Republicans
I don't believe in The National Front
I don't believe in the vegan taliban
I don't believe in repressed memory
I don't believe in John Lennon not believing in Beatles
I don't believe in Richard Gere and the gerbil
I don't believe in the Ku Klux Klan
I don't believe in Republicans
I don't believe in The National Front
I don't believe in the vegan taliban
I don't believe in repressed memory
I don't believe in John Lennon not believing in Beatles
I don't believe in Richard Gere and the gerbil
I don't believe in the Ku Klux Klan
I don't believe in Tea
Parties
I don't believe in libertarians
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Caligula
I don't believe in libertarians
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Caligula
I don't believe in Idi Amin
I don't believe in Draco
I don't believe in reactionary figurative painters
I don't believe in dinosaurs being 4,000 years old
I don't believe in Draco
I don't believe in reactionary figurative painters
I don't believe in dinosaurs being 4,000 years old
I don't believe your child
can paint better than Jackson Pollock
I don't believe in astral projection
I don't believe in angry Buddhists
I don't believe in angry Baptists
I don't believe in Halie Selassie as a deity
I don't believe in Upanishads
I don't believe in The Psalms
I don't believe in the sutras
I don't believe in Jack Chick
I don't believe in the Book of Mormon
I don't believe in Bhagavad Gita
I don't believe in astral projection
I don't believe in angry Buddhists
I don't believe in angry Baptists
I don't believe in Halie Selassie as a deity
I don't believe in Upanishads
I don't believe in The Psalms
I don't believe in the sutras
I don't believe in Jack Chick
I don't believe in the Book of Mormon
I don't believe in Bhagavad Gita
I don't believe in granola
camp
I don't believe in nazis
I don't believe in fascists
I don't believe in the 22nd amendment
I don't believe in Osama
I don't believe in free trade
I don't believe in Christian Science
I don't believe in Busby Berkeley
I don't believe in partitioned countries
I just believe in me. . .and thee.
I don't believe in nazis
I don't believe in fascists
I don't believe in the 22nd amendment
I don't believe in Osama
I don't believe in free trade
I don't believe in Christian Science
I don't believe in Busby Berkeley
I don't believe in partitioned countries
I just believe in me. . .and thee.
---o0o---
Monday, May 04, 2015
Poem The Meaning
By Jack Brummet
1
Some people say
Life would have no meaning
If we lived forever;
Others among us say
Life would have meaning
If we did.
2
The meaning of life
Is like the rings running circles
Around a tree trunk.
If you remember back
On your last trip
To the natural history museum,
The best tree sections
Have pins on their rings:
Jesus born;
Magna
Carta;
Mayflower arrives in America;
Declaration of Independence;
Civil War ends;
Man walks on moon.
3
Wouldn't it be something
To not konk out
And see rings marked
Race wars end;
Israel and Palestine merge;
Poverty eliminated;
The return of Jesus;
Alien diplomats arrive?
---o0o---
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Poem: [Strangely green beneath the shadows] - generated with the poetry generator
By Jack Brummet
A phone ringing somewhere
Out of whose dream
The lost man
Asks his way
Trying to remember
We beat murky devils below the slime
You beat brilliant witches about the grave
1
Strangely
green beneath the shadows
We converse with evil goats below the air
We converse with evil goats below the air
2
We confound fluorescent witches near the virgin
We confound fluorescent witches near the virgin
The
fun has died
Dark and glowing beyond the sea
You pull lustful devils below
And grind blue demons against the sky
Awaken, awaken! The evil was good:
Unsure, silent on the edge of the world
Down streets where guests
Look for landmarks while the snow falls
Dark and glowing beyond the sea
You pull lustful devils below
And grind blue demons against the sky
Awaken, awaken! The evil was good:
Unsure, silent on the edge of the world
Down streets where guests
Look for landmarks while the snow falls
3
Mournful
signs beside the fog
The Queen is going,
shifting, restless across the water
The Queen is going,
shifting, restless across the water
A phone ringing somewhere
Out of whose dream
The lost man
Asks his way
Trying to remember
4
Sinning
beside the sea
We hobnob with illusions beyond the spirits
Totally red under the gods
I shove angry tomb stones beneath the virgin
The day is born and clouded hesitant,
Saying goodbye with no words left
In how many harbors does a stranger
Look for love and never knowing how
We hobnob with illusions beyond the spirits
Totally red under the gods
I shove angry tomb stones beneath the virgin
The day is born and clouded hesitant,
Saying goodbye with no words left
In how many harbors does a stranger
Look for love and never knowing how
5
Strangely
poisonous beyond the water,
I divine illusions above the shadows,
Strange and mournful over the air
I divine illusions above the shadows,
Strange and mournful over the air
We beat murky devils below the slime
You beat brilliant witches about the grave
The
life is becoming opaque, fighting
back
And crossing the frontier
The victim loses his way
While the snow falls
And crossing the frontier
The victim loses his way
While the snow falls
6
Darkening awake and blurring at the edges
For whose sake the other
Leaves his home while the crowd watches.
For whose sake the other
Leaves his home while the crowd watches.
7
We
breed invisible idiots beneath the sky
The devil is vanishing, a shadow seeking
Another country with nothing left to lose
---o0o---The devil is vanishing, a shadow seeking
Another country with nothing left to lose
Friday, April 17, 2015
Poem: Li Po In Disgrace
By Jack Brummet
Four
hundred and forty-thousand
Moons ago, Li Po sits
Drinking wine on a bluff.
The Sun fades into blue mountains.
On the other side of the ball,
The sun scales the horizon.
Crickets tune up
And the first bats
Sail from roost to roost.
I think about Li Po drunk again
In the mountains, waiting for word
And listening to the wind songs.
Lost and alone,
He stares at the cup
And wonders when his pardon will come.
He holds a inkpot, scroll, and brush.
He listens to his skin fold
And his hair turn grey.
Between the mountains and stars,
A crow wheels over fogged red pines
Spiring in moonlight.
LiPo shakes wet peach blossoms
From his coat
And fills the cup.
Moonlight dances
On the golden wine
In the silver cup.
Who needs a clear head this night?
---o0o---
Drinking wine on a bluff.
The Sun fades into blue mountains.
On the other side of the ball,
The sun scales the horizon.
Crickets tune up
And the first bats
Sail from roost to roost.
I think about Li Po drunk again
In the mountains, waiting for word
And listening to the wind songs.
Lost and alone,
He stares at the cup
And wonders when his pardon will come.
He holds a inkpot, scroll, and brush.
He listens to his skin fold
And his hair turn grey.
Between the mountains and stars,
A crow wheels over fogged red pines
Spiring in moonlight.
LiPo shakes wet peach blossoms
From his coat
And fills the cup.
Moonlight dances
On the golden wine
In the silver cup.
Who needs a clear head this night?
---o0o---
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Poem: Turn
By Jack Brummet
1
The host and tenant lock
In benign
equilibrium.
2
Each valley followed by a slope.
Every going followed by a return.
Each valley followed by a slope.
Every going followed by a return.
3
There is no
relief without an ache,
And no virus without a host.
And no virus without a host.
4
Bricks tumble into the moat.
The king's body hangs naked from the flagpole.
5
For a fleeting moment
Bricks tumble into the moat.
The king's body hangs naked from the flagpole.
5
For a fleeting moment
The condition for
change exists.
---o0o--
---o0o--
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Poem: The Quest
By Jack Brummet
Of incredible coherence and constance,
Encompassing all you know,
All you don’t know you know,
And all you one day will know.
There is more
To be
Our myths flourish and spread,
Person to person,
With mystical scenes,
Quests, and tales of greatness.
When you strip away
It’s all one story—
A ragged
shape-shifting tale
Of incredible coherence and constance,
Encompassing all you know,
All you don’t know you know,
And all you one day will know.
There is more
To be
seen,
tasted,
heard,
and felt
Than can ever be known or told.
Than can ever be known or told.
Our myths flourish and spread,
Person to person,
And the mysteries of the seas and skies and stars
Fill our collective conscience
With mystical scenes,
Quests, and tales of greatness.
These myths, tales, and fables
Cannot be invented, ordered, or denied.
Cannot be invented, ordered, or denied.
When you strip away
The
stage flats, makeup, and costumes,
It’s all one story
Starring our private heroes and dreams.
---o0o---
Starring our private heroes and dreams.
---o0o---
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