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Inside the gated microcosm,
the street-lights are abundant
and ultra-bright like snarling demon sentinels,
or spike-toothed angels,
depending on perspective and circumstance,

but as neither
the nighttime nor its denizens
are purely and consistently evil
(but rather some
nocturnal souls
simply dwell where energy is still,)

it seems barbarous
(like building a Frostian wall,)
to so fearfully split
evening's relieving serenity so
that the eyes
must grasp and grope
for a single star in the sky
as spot-lighted feet
from screaming post to post,

but thankfully my eyes adjust,
and the exit to true night
is but half-a-mile
and reached:
I can feel myself
revive and smile,
as I leave behind
those hot, towering demons
to snarl and glare:
ever erect, pointing,
and thrusting their
fiery, self-pious lanterns
at empty indifferent air,
as undeterred I
(picturing the Buddha's deer park)
continue serenely:

stepping and
the sapphically clustered starlight
and the serene absence
of the monstrous motor roaring
pervasive and perpetual
to Apollo's hours
in my primitive time and place,
(at least near any town, farm,
or human arm)

Though here at least
the night
is largely safe, empty and still:
a smoothly lit thought-aquarium
in which a soul
can stroll and swim weightless
from street to street
and meme to meme to dream...
and with odds
encounter neither business nor bother,
nothing darkly disturbing
nor shining, beautiful and insincere,

nothing at all in front
of semi-thriving painted promenades,
nothing but bushes,
room for stretching and meditation
freedom from itching, prying eyes:
to walk at one's own pace,
to lumber like a bear
or sing without care...

disturbing no-one:
knowing already
the teeming world and all
its vast politics, pathos, and business
to be but
a paint-crowned sunflower,
an absinthe vision of Van Gogh,
a great and lovely work
already known,

now but
distant flute accompaniment
to the melodic Mozartian wail
overheard between the moon
and a distant feathered cousin
of that same nightingale
which enthralled
the young and eminent, worldly
world-weathered Keats
in his hour of illness and need,
leading the low-lit way
for a few feral hours
to lose all the world,
along with
the manic-machine song
of its wrecking fire reed:

'far from the madding crowd,'
a pipe
and quiet moonlight
is all a soul could need

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The following comments are for "a sabbatical in darkness"
by Seanspacey

of "absinthe vision"
From your Sapphic strophe of stars, to the "madding crowds", I felt a seediness that you probably did not intend to convey. I enjoyed this very much.

( Posted by: pablowilliams [Member] On: October 10, 2014 )

absinthe vision
Dear Pablo,

I should have written you earlier and wonder if you will get this. Please forgive me if I start a little defensively; "Far from the Madding Crowd" is an 'obscure' literary classic I took the liberty of alluding to. But I take no offense, nor intend to be offensive, as your kind responses have been encouragement as of late. Regarding the subject of seediness, I find myself at a loss for words. It might help to point out that I'm a cultural child of the beat writers and the 60's generation. :) Thanks for reading, Pablo

( Posted by: seanspacey [Member] On: October 24, 2014 ) and you
Make no mistake. I look forward to reading you each time I visit the site. As for this piece, let me just say that I've printed it out and have shared it with two other people.

Your hearts' intention in writing this, may have eluded me. That's common. I don't understnad half of the poetry I read! However, I try to make it my own, so to speak. I read into it and run with the immediate spark. Because I tend to gravitate toward "seediness" in music, film and poetry, it's a bias that often creeps through as I summarize others poetry. I don't know if it is a good thing or not.

Here is an example, if asked to watch 'Raging bull' or 'Rules of Attraction', although Raging Bull is an amazing film, my emotional track will always gravitate toward the latter-- and I love Raging Bull!

( Posted by: Pablowilliams [Member] On: October 24, 2014 )

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