Insight — Day 29, Poem 29

Almost at the end of the road here on the month of April, 2012 NaPoWriMo, or am I at the end of the road?  So, the question begins.  Here, Poem 29 on day 29 – enjoy!

 

Insight                             Max Wolf Valerio

 

so I was coming to the end of the road

I saw the intersection up ahead teeming with

flying insects              no cars, just big fat bugs!

translucent green carapace and whirring blue wings!

whirring helicopter bugs caught without shame dive-bombing

mosh pits of insects!    huge eyes with sunglasses      no

Really – sunglasses! 

I took a double take   Wow –

some were singing and others gesticulating wildly

pointing at me, trying to warn the others

that I was watching and

I could not fly –

 

I waited… WAIT ONE MINUTE!!!!

were these           ah, insects or –

were they    — drones?

at some point, I had to question my own

deeply held

            assumptions

 

many of these creatures appeared to be equipped

for surveillance

they possessed a warring intelligence

set to stun and inculcate

doubt incubating

behind

tiny red mirrors set like precious stones into

their foreheads

 

every single instance

all the moments of certainty that I had

entertained as I drove            sparking

flight          began to unfold and flower to

complication —

 

Was I really at the end of the road?

 

by Max Wolf Valerio (c) April 29, 2012

Night Songs Poem 28 on Day 28

OK!   Here is poem 28 on day 28 of NaPoWriMo!  Was a tough one, but it is here.  Hooray! 

 

Night Songs                        Max Wolf Valerio 

 

I  

                                                 NIGHT jets

                                                    are black ink                               

                                        tangled with hairspray

                                                                      canisters

                                                                      CALL OUT  for divine

                                                  intervention       as human bombs spray

                                                                                          the metallic tight taste of 

                                                                      machine gun sweat          

                                                  and red and black stitches

                                   rotate the slow night

                            dance

 

               as the last are wounded

               armed robbery lights up         orange  and feral

 seduction and fear expands                 streets fill with teenage runaways

 

                                   footsteps collapse

                          behind  

                                                  the final laughing     broadcasts

 

II

                                                plunging

                                               whirlpools naked

                             voices escape                 flattened out to digital       

                         staples

                                              

                                    steam from sidewalks   — night walking

                                                             translucent        and humming with wires  

                                        enclosed by circling

                                                                       helicopters

 

III

 

night time aura              burning rubber           rain forest  

          humidity         saturates a searing landscape of green and black cats

 

          midnight angels  suspended by discolored ropes to

                  white walls

                                         or fastened with iron chains to police

                            car sirens

 

bend these dreams             floating  behind

                                                             palm fronds and still shocked white orbs

                                                        stretching out over

                                                this  flaming       mega    nocturnal calliope

 

IV

                                 all tape recordings are silent and

                                 thought hesitates  —

 

silence radiant with mathematical portals

the midnight air festooned with

                      night owls originating chance meetings with rabbinical scholars

 

by Max Wolf Valerio (C) April 28, 2012

                                                                                

The Bridge into the Water Poem 27 on Day 27

Here is something a bit different, on Day 27, it is Poem 27!!!  

 

The Bridge into the Water                  Max Wolf Valerio 

 

walking near the river I was taken in by

the sounds drawing me to the surface of the water and

down into the interior where I sensed a lingering, unknowable

distance between what was expected and what could be anticipated to actually happen

 

the bridge was broken in the middle yet

somehow         it appeared to be intact

until you got to the part that

had collapsed

 

the bridge opened as I walked on it

the bridge became a gap between worlds that was both symbolic and actual

the bridge sucked me underneath it even though I fought hard to resist that charm

 

underneath the water was warm and felt like the blood of a wild beast sucking

me inside to where the soft and concave surfaces met and enveloped

my trust and eagerness to understand more than I knew already

and I was consumed and I was entirely dissolved

my knowing broke into small parts in

the water

 

and then, when I saw where I was, and who I was —  I got up and walked to where I am now 

                            and 

I–  just – started–   laughing!

 

Heh – (!) 

 

by Max Wolf Valerio   (c) April 27, 2012 

The Liars Poem 26 on Day 26 of NaPoWriMo —

It is here!  Poem 26 on Day 26!!!  

 

The Liars                                           Max Wolf Valerio

 

the solution was not to be

bottled, sold or consumed

 

there was not an exit to

block

 

all the sidewalks were littered with glass from windows, bottles and

shattered mirrors

 

I was unable to stop anyone

who wanted to lie

 

the plunging terror lit up the sidewalks with

bodies

 

fires while lost people danced

safety pins and razor blades hung to the bottom, their skin was stretching —

 

tireless soft machines rolling drinks

embezzling money with bloated fingers

 

exaggerations  —  above the wide canopy

hair flying in an arabesque

 

and over the stilts – a noise whirs from a distance

altitude abbreviates the ascent of wings

 

angles collide with the edges of buildings

escalation to crisis  —  previously unknown demands surface

 

stipulation of anonymous sources to provide alibis

two flying men  —  and two animals

 

masks  —

a silence writes over the bones of the dead

 

 

by Max Wolf Valerio © April 26, 2012

 

 

 

Clear Mind Starlight City — Poem 25 on Day 25 is here

This one took a minute but it is here!  Poem 25 on Day 25! 

 

Clear Mind  Starlight City                 Max Wolf Valerio

 

stars lash the sky as wind

slips

buildings

 

                           and —

it’s time to step out

from the distance

to what is close

 

to examine

what is clearly visible  —

 

even the starlight

filters through

fog to

rooftops

 

just as this leaning city is visible

from those tarry rooftops —

once the lights are on

all night

and there’s a roaring

 

what is visible can be

hypnotic

and what can be heard

overcomes

 

the strongest fears

and the slightest hesitancy

 

undone, all undone  —  in bright spangling   

                           clarity     —  

the will

of starlight                to bring still

thoughts                       to

attention  —

 

By Max Wolf Valerio    (c) April 25, 2012 

the unknowns Poem 24 on Day 24

A quick edit, and now — here it is again!  Poem 24 on day 24 of NaPoWriMo!  Enjoy. 

 

 

the unknowns                                       Max Wolf Valerio 

 

silhouettes of men sewn

into fabric

pinned to walls

 

                         the oval faces expand until they eclipse  —

 

there is a point

an error

in time

that will not return to right

                                     itself – 

 

                                  who are they and why are they here

       

a row of men

standing

the shots are single and target

their chests –

torsos explode

                    in an avalanche

                of

                                    slivers and

                               silver                            shapes

 

terror on soft feet

battens their eyes

to close

 

                           someday – these names will be known

 

 

by Max Wolf Valerio  (c) April, 24, 2012

 

Sacrifice when angels fold their wings 23rd poem on 23rd day

Here’s another science fiction fantasy type poem, some kind of ritual from another world.  And, it is the 23rd poem on the 23rd day of NaPoWriMo!  Enjoy! 

 

Sacrifice when angels fold their wings  —                     Max Wolf Valerio 

 

the explosions were all connected

surrogates

blindfolded and tied

                                DRAGONS

                           in the wilding night

                           beak sharp flame        entropy of eyes molded to sacrifice

 

           observe the flat concrete          — eruptions of angelic voices and dark blue sigils wrapped

         in linen shrouds               sticky with red           the last blade               is the first —

 

 

conical mounds                             a stratospheric song  audible only from a distance

 

hallucination

and scarification

white and blue virgins

admonish the folded wings

the throne materializes without effort

and there is an appearance of soft rubber

on the faces of the young females who have

lifted their eyes to the rotating ones —                      expanding as joy inflates

the turtles are gutted and arranged in rows

the rabbits have their feet set to the direction of the water angels

the mountain lions are allowed to roam as the alien cones come to land and open up

 

to the flowering sky

to the red ocean

                  and the soft flying insects

to the shells and open hearts held

up to time and motion that returns  —

laughter and

abandonment

         nocturnal eyes

    held open with sharp knives –

 

by Max Wolf Valerio (c) April 23, 2012