tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32784386005628562332024-03-14T00:57:22.816-07:00The Lyrical Musings of a Software EngineerAaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-6672801700843753142019-10-10T17:31:00.001-07:002019-10-10T17:31:51.851-07:00moonlight<pre>I've gathered moonlight
I found
the secret
you see
i coaxed it
from being
diaphanous
at the head of time's arrow
like rutherford's pudding
stirred, bright and assuring
and it told me these things
(i cant tell you how, but it did...):
"place your palm right here,
feel the comfort
and pillowy
rise
into dreamful residence"
the brahmin's arrow points inward
loving unto fullness
and here i'll place my head upon my hands,
chin weighted ever so
and watch,
and ponder...
and watch
and ponder
those gilded estuarial escapes...
</pre>
Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-52103504202774537602019-10-10T17:28:00.000-07:002019-10-11T06:19:48.212-07:00(untitled)<pre>Life expands and collapses before me,
Stretches and waxes and wanes
like graceful, eliding notes
</pre>
<pre>Held fast</pre>
<pre> but loose</pre>
<pre>Like an accordion,</pre>
<pre> hung about the neck,</pre>
<pre>A twirled mustache</pre>
<pre> And fingers sped off into mystery</pre>
<pre>And oblong gestures,</pre>
<pre> And faint memories</pre>
<pre>written</pre>
<pre> along</pre>
<pre>accordion creases</pre>
<pre></pre>
<pre>And Sleep</pre>
<pre> Dangles Dreams</pre>
<pre>Along hearths</pre>
<pre></pre>
<pre>as I recall</pre>
<pre> the moments</pre>
<pre>that led up to this one...</pre>
<pre></pre>
<pre>Like a smile,</pre>
<pre> Drawn to slow completion,</pre>
<pre>As the movie's credits roll</pre>
Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-37336325997860554102011-11-17T21:49:00.000-08:002011-11-17T21:50:30.516-08:00don't you see it?don’t you see it?<br /><br />absent blemishes<br />cloaking<br /> snarly hearts<br /><br />tip-toed and back<br /> black—hot<br /> and burning<br /> the images<br /> that you were so afraid to see<br /> that you couldn’t look…above them<br /><br />commas to semi-colons<br /> to fancies<br /> of sententious grip<br /> roaring, with punctuation<br /> but lost in a beginning<br /> or even an end, to the middle<br /><br />but then let up your hand<br /> terraced with wiggly avenues<br />that are no longer<br />like<br /> creased arteries<br /> deadened in their depths<br /> and so broodingly tepid<br /> in their wedged fascinations<br /><br />vested in air<br /> and the philosopher’s burden of laughter<br /><br />kept until now<br /> until it was always<br /> there,<br /> then.<br /><br />and I remember a story<br />about when my father<br />hitch-hiked<br />all the way to California<br />…and into a library<br />a homeless man<br /> who knew about books on Montana<br /> puts his hand on my father’s<br /> shoulder and says:<br />‘ “Norm, do you see the…”<br /><br />light?<br /><br />--Then and Now<br /> Now and Then<br /> and Then…<br /> and Then…<br /> always—<br /><br />the light<br /> out of polydactyl<br /> playful<br /> lummox -ed paws<br /><br />…is falling…<br /><br /> off the universe<br /> trapezoids<br /> in shaky wags<br /><br />Aaron: don’t you see it?Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-65294062605877333332010-01-14T20:00:00.000-08:002010-01-14T20:04:58.169-08:00supermansquare jaw<br />steely gaze<br /> of man<br /> <br /> as hands are drawn to hips<br /> in fists<br /> resolved to perpendiculars<br /> of form<br /> of self<br /> to earth.<br /><br />in flight<br /> in fight<br /> in face<br /> <br /> angles were his <br /> only angles<br /><br /> all-spoony-for-lois<br /> aesthete<br /> <br /> so noble<br /> as to be alien<br /> to the auguring premises<br /> of flesh.Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-40408952843777739492010-01-06T22:31:00.000-08:002010-01-06T22:35:30.523-08:00punctuation dwells (a haiku poem)punctuation dwells<br />like angels in mantel walks<br />latticing hyle steepesAaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-81198862201775428652010-01-05T04:27:00.000-08:002010-01-05T04:30:18.881-08:00as we walkthe ageless yellow of leaves<br /> that hang, so far, you can't touch them<br /> till they fall<br /> heavy with wonder<br /><br /> drifting down<br /> to be forgotten<br /> by freshly fallen snow<br /> and air<br /> that leaves you breathless<br /><br /> and finally<br /> spring comes<br /> confused<br /> soft<br /> (and gentle):<br /> like footsteps<br /> clumsily drawn<br /> beneath outstretched arms<br /> cupping glasses of wine<br /><br /> then june<br /> cloaks the orange of sunsets<br /> as days last<br /> while flat arcs<br /> of rubber heels<br /> collapse<br /> beneath weightless gravity<br /><br /> ...as we walk...<br /><br /> and laughter<br /> remembers...<br /> to forgetAaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-59577115805985259292010-01-04T21:57:00.000-08:002010-01-04T22:02:39.300-08:00just shooting aroundlove and space<br />clandestinely arranged<br />in my palm.<br /><br />feeling the weight<br />of oceans<br />unfolding<br /><br />holding<br />a ball,<br />sluiced,<br /><br />by thin black channels<br /><br />breathing,<br />from the shoulders out<br /><br />moving<br /><br />in signature time<br />to the dribbling<br />of felt tip fingers<br /><br />staining,<br />the air,<br />with stanzas.<br /><br />stopping.<br />shoulder-width<br />and stationed still<br /><br />quarter note gets the beat<br /><br />leaving<br />the mundane business<br />of earth<br /><br />for heights untethered<br /><br />while hoping<br />--just once--<br />for cursive elegance<br /><br />back-spun and end-to-end visiting<br />treasure trove in diameter<br />the ball<br />Now<br />out of my hands...<br /><br />nylon cross-hatch<br />hung and hanging<br />from a thin metal lip<br /><br />chiaroscuro circumscription<br />of space<br />all caroming down.Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3278438600562856233.post-27495841782448879262010-01-04T21:47:00.000-08:002010-01-04T21:56:54.304-08:00The Lyrical Musings of a Software Engineer (or, my poetry blog)Hello everyone,<br /><br />Per the suggestion of a good friend, I am starting up this blog as a forum in which to share my poetry.<br /><br />As the title might suggest, I am a Software Engineer by profession, and, in addition to coding, I also love to write poetry, having developed a burgeoning interest in this area just a few years ago; an interest which I have enjoyed cultivating ever since.<br /><br />I not only welcome but greatly appreciate any feedback and equally so enjoy discussion.<br /><br />I do hope you might enjoy some of that which I have to share.<br /><br />Thank you for taking the time to stop at my web-site.Aaronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13991563154346692097noreply@blogger.com0