The Undulant Trees Opportunity I had a life once, a life/ handed to me on a golden matter: more, more, & more; but did not see it, and let it pass. April's End 'Tis the last day of April. 'Tis, 'tis, 'tis. Oh how quickly 30 whizz. And here I sit, sullen and somber, where undulant evil is. Yo, rise/ from your stool. There are reams to conquer, twirling fool. - Brian A. J. Salchert
is a tiny wandering imaginary dinosaur which migrated from AOL in October of 2008.
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Wednesday, April 30, 2008
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Wednesday, April 9, 2008
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The Undulant Trees [ Note: One should not laugh at another's misfortune. The content below popped into my head several days back, and does not relate to any familial event in my life. ] Out There I laughed when my fa-ather lost his shoe. I laughed when my fa-ather lost his shoe. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I laughed when my fa-ather lost his shoe. I laughed when my fa-ather lost his shoe. I laughed when my fa-ather lost his shoe. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I laughed when my fa-ather lost his shoe. - Brian A. J. Salchert
Saturday, March 15, 2008
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The Undulant Trees 5 AM In the distance herorrrrrm herorrrrrm a coal train passing through Springfield MO and then nearby cheep cheep cheep a robin wakes the night & I I keep my self in bed white low brown eyes hid - Brian A. J. Salchert
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
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The Undulant Trees Bell riggidy raggidy ruggidy rung trippity trappity toggles the tongue clippingly clappingly clunkingly clung gling gling gling gling gling gling PAAAYPURR - Brian A. J. Salchert
Friday, December 28, 2007
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The Undulant Trees The Ghost in the Dumpster And there he was weeping and weeping and no one could make him stop who had tried so hard but ever had failed until even that which he did well seemed somehow a failure who wondered how he could go on knowing that with each choice he was slipping further behind and yet who had to however ever poorly he did. - Brian A. J. Salchert
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
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The Undulant Trees (Do not know when I first wrote the second two poems.) Suddenly we turned the corner and then there was. § A Spinner of Emptiness Manifestations of Dionysus sputtering from the deep fire: blue jays, sparrows, cardinals, gulls draw and draw him to his bedroom window; & even, maybe, to a tittering smile. Still, as the sun tucks itself in, his thinking ego, tossing his body back & back, stands awake and into the darkness spins a web with which to snatch Eternity only to--as the sun shakes--undo it again. And yet, and yet, he cannot stop-- who dreams he is of Apollo-- trying to figure his being out-- or is of Dionysus, or also, or neither. Sunk in his rocker, he'd clap from his head/ the incessant birds. § Arthur Joe All his life the 12-foot wall trapped his desires; attracted him; beat him down whose salient gift was a small stature; yet, once again (having thought, trained) he presses through the undergrowth to try to leap to grip its top in the sharp sun, only to have reaffirmed-- on his scraped knees & scraped arms-- the concrete's sealed dominance, and the two stones sullen beneath a film of water where he sits/ dreaming of salmon. = Aurthur Joe (most recent version) All his life the 12-foot wall trapped his desires, attracted him; beat him down whose salient gift was a small stature; yet, once again (having thought, trained) he presses through the undergrowth to try to leap to grip its top in the sharp sun, only to have reaffirmed-- on his scraped knees & scraped arms-- the concrete's sealed dominance and the two stones sullen behind a film of water where he sits, teetering, tottering, shadow against shadow, dreaming of salmon. (2006-10-08) - Brian A. J. Salchert
Monday, December 10, 2007
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The Undulant Trees As the Eye Can See at the flick of a thought a chair moves from here to Saskatchewan all the hairs on my head were hay for Pizarro's horses the dreams of lettuce are heavy with stars not even nothing holds its own having a name (1972) § Yes, Archibald MacLeish, we who with words would tease, please, deepen minds, spirits, bodies, hearts-- Homers, Virgils, Dantes, Shakespeares-- will not be by Beauty stood dumb in a corner, our behinds to the world so the world's flicked darts stick in them. (????) - Brian A. J. Salchert
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
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The Undulant Trees And Who Am I? I am Tantalus, Sisyphus, Narcissus; I am he who quests eternally, and who eternally is/ frustrated. (1988) § At 47 she feels like a bankrupt company; or, if not bankrupt, deeply in debt; and doesn't know whether a month from now, a year, will feel the same, or worse, or better; but does know arrogance will not do, nor condescension, nor--even-- the need to prove to those who might invest in her that she is good (real good) and can in time turn around, for such abet liquidation; yet, would the genius in silk laugh at her, the genius with the flyaway hair almost imperceptibly smile? - Scintillant green, deep in the wood, they tell me not to talk to you. Let them. Many things are pathetic, cast against cerulean. (1988) - Brian A. J. Salchert
Sunday, December 2, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Funning with my imagination suddenly the eagle come alive jerks the Kleenex out of its bowels white & frightened like a dying fish bits of ivory fluff turning the colors of shadows rush beneath my barely opened windows invade my neck my voice box spits screaming blue-black ropes all the leaves are popped-out eyes twisting away i speed through a rainbow maze brown rows of mud arcs of green corrosion red plumes stunned by a million grinding teeth covered with cobwebs the odor of crushed Gingko fruit my body floats like a cork in a spout / catches on the tongues of a whirlpool the teeth part secluded spiders crouch at my approach * staring at the lowest orange disk on the four-color windchimes i center on one pale rectangle & find in it valleys hills mountains & every shade from near-transparent to triple orange vibrating vibrating & the mountains flow to the valleys & the valleys to the hills slow slow slow & each shape resonates a soft squeezing the juices of mandarin of tangerine & the beat picks up & the smooth edges roughen a cloud of exploding stars a cloud of exploding stars a cloud of exploding exploding d g in o l p x e slivers of orange-filled mirrors whistling - (1971-2007) - Brian A. J. Salchert
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The Undulant Trees Postscript to Doctor Zhivago Rummaging among the shards of jugs and men or floating between the stars, we turn ourselves to whatever we find; to whatever we turn we find ourselves: leaves of a birch scratching the ground or the consecrated wine; buds inhaling the bright wind, opening, or broken shelves. (5-5-69) - Because I Move menageries wander about me their cottony bodies catching on bricks, grasses, etc. gyrating off into birds waves (1971 ?) - As I Said one must but then there are times oh you know don't you (?) - My Walking Stick There is an evil in my bones I cannot kill, not even with a metaphor made by God; so just outside our metal door, when I would sleep, a black and black-&-white cat yeowl and brawl. There is an evil in my heart. It eats my will. (1990 ?) - Brian A. J. Salchert
Friday, November 30, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Cherry Mars (for Stan Apps with a nod to Ed Dames) I wonder what, deep in their planet, the Martian robots think when they see Cadbury chocolate seeping into their hoary caverns? (11/28&30/07) § Trussed Invader (for John Latta) Latta, I love the way you write poems and prose of spiked delight. If only I had a proper brain with which to un- derstand your rain. (11-30-07) § For your chances are incredible, cutting as diamonds, relentless as beets. I'm almost afraid to finger them. But, as you can see--well, behind the scenes--my fingertips are deeply red and freshly sliced in the scars and scabs and in between, you have to laugh, possibly. Still, I still favor your anteFitts appearances despite "The Wheelchair Butterfly" and "Poem to Some of My Recent Poems", wanting (in my fingertips) the soft coral color and the tell-tale etches to be more visible again through the lightning scars. (circa 1984) ------------------------- - Friday, November 30, 2007 - "Success Comes to Cow Creek" - Brian A. J. Salchert
Saturday, November 24, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Sweet Ruse The idea is to write poems no one enjoys: that way, when they return, the writer again can have the pleasure of reading them. 11-2-89 - Brian A. J. Salchert
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Three Moods 1. Peripatetic These days/ I've been going about with my head in my shoe. What a genie it is! 2. How Do I Feel? Like a screaming white wind stuffed in a shrinking cube of glass. 3. Taken Aside Teew tuu, teew tuu, teew tuu, teew tuu, teew tuu, teew tuu. Dicit se juvare eam, blue jay, blue jay. And I do too, putting down my Latin book to watch you again searching among the oak branches below our bedroom. - Brian A. J. Salchert
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Lunar 1 The moon is an egg in a black nest sprinkled with sequins. § Lunar 2 The moon is an egg barely visible in the pale shore sky. § Lunar 3 The moon is a moon too late, too soon, too unsure why it is what what. - Brian A. J. Salchert
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Invitation I'm such a jimble & jamble writer you might find something amongst my poems that pleasures you. Do look through. § Tensions Eight mourning doves along two wires against this overcast day, so recordeth my wandering eyes when they panned my bedroom window. Three squirrels about in the yard upon this drizzly morning, so recordeth my wicked eyes while they pierced my bedroom window. - Brian A. J. Salchert
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Open the Drapes Frost in the yard Cardinal on a wire then in an eaves trough Juncos, sparrows, or warblers skittering into and out of the sturdy bush Cardinal back on the wire I'm wearing my jacket - Brian A. J. Salchert
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Twenty-One Indoctrination the militancy of mandated mustaches masquerades mellifluously mourning after morning § Farmed Out the jonquils' joyance jeopardizes the genteelness of jackdaw journeyings § Implicated once the/ word is heard herds of words like murd'rous birds stir the nerds - Brian A. J. Salchert
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
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The Undulant Trees Capitalism's Sweet Prize Once we'd eaten the whole world, once we'd souled fat and ugly, the world rankled in our gullets so hard we threw it back up so hard we died from it, face down in our garbage. ------------------------------ esthetics Brian A. J. Salchert
Thursday, September 20, 2007
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The Undulant Trees In Form at Ion Talk, talk, talk talk talk. That's all you ever do is talk talk talk. Divert, divert, divert, divert. All you ever do is Gert Gert Gert. I offer you/ a glass of wine. You toss at me a stein of Stein. Yippity yuppity ruppity rup. If it rattles it must be a cup in a cup. Maybe you'd maybe. Maybe you wouldnt. Maybe you'd only if you could could could. A sign is a sign is a sign is a sign. A ticket's a ticket a ticket a ticket. If I had a rosary, I'd beat you with beads, whatever the piece a gameboard needs. Now don't get me wrong, and don't get me right. Halve a good day. Halve a good night. [ A M2 579 2007 ] ----------------------------------- Laurence Sterne Brian A. J. Salchert
