Readers, Welcome to an issue of Musea that is introducing a new type of poetry called "VISION" poetry.
WARNING: This is not 'Poetry 101'. This is advanced. Vision Poetry does not rhyme (most of the time), and it's not what you are used to. If for any reason, after reading two or three of these short poems, you don't 'GET IT'; please, fold up the zine , replace it on the stack where you found it, and slowly back away.
Now that we've gotten rid of the neophytes, let's continue. Vision poems are part koan, part hallucination, part vision, slightly enlightening, and peppered with occasional eureka moments. They are word pictures, dreams, fantasies, jokes, lightning strikes, and kafkaesque situations. Read them with a sense of adventure. Then see if the startling images - somewhat like what a painter might see in his mind before beginning his new work - suggests anything deeper or more profound. Enjoy and let me hear what you think.
I had a nightmare
that I was trapped
in act two!
As twilight approaches
the sun dims
and the light in the upstairs window
comes on...
today
I passed
the garden
by
The eye chart had
made up letters!
X: How high can you count?
Y: Through the elevens.
I switched
to channel "X"
and I was
the TV
and they were
the watchers
I went ahead
and took the toothpaste
and added a year's worth
to my brush
I watched aghast
as she rinsed out
the water bottle
Forest football
I had them build me
my dream house
and place it over
the river
I told them to add
extra bedrooms
for all the visiting
fishes
then and there
I heard and saw
lightning and thunder
all at once
the stone skipped
over the pond
and up, up
to the Moon.
I brought a telescope
to the star crossed lovers
"Look! Look!
I demonstrated
They did and "oohed"...
and shrugged their shoulders
and kissed farewell
forever and ever ...
Fate moved a bead
in another room.
I held the dictionary
and shook it up
all the letters
now out of order
what is this -
the snow is bouncing
the small snake
moved through the dust
writing a question
"Why can I write this?"
icicles
for walking sticks
wherever he went
the broomstick would follow
fog cloaks
building after building
blockhead
with a crown
of woodpeckers
in my copy
of the book
the words get up
and move about
Humptyy Dumpty
versus the Wall
Egg against Brick
a grudge match
Come one
come all
Now it's become
personal!
building a staircase
on a gust of wind
everywhere I go
the same pigeon
walls were made
of gates and doors
in the blue swamp
there's still black water
topped with white froth
in overlapping circles
wheat stalks bend
heavy with grain
monks in the temple
bowing down
without being told
the child knows enough
to look up ...
at the Moon.
and the forest was flooded
with overflow from the river
and each tree was topped
by a fidgeting squirrel
rain from the clouds
and above it
light from the Moon
too crowded in the Temple
brain waves bouncing against the walls
like a hive of robotic bees
at full speed ricocheting
Not an inch for contemplation
Blue Mountain has steps
that circle around
but never go up
and never come down
my heart
is not here
birds fly over
beyond them stars
Sun's a stone
Plop!
not all
Rothkos
hope torments
lightning and thunder
firefly and cricket
Lover's kiss
balloon heads
the way she walked
danced in my head
the path
leads me
Clock maker's heart
goes tick-tock
the giant used people
for clothespins on wash day
the job was boring
but outdoors and good pay.
butterfly lands
and there's a
slight spring
in the flower
Lost at night
in an antique mall
and suddenly a chair
begins to dance
One thousand matches
waiting for a spark
They put the genome of a tractor in a virus
It made a new model but some G's were flat
"Back to the drawing board," said all the engineers.
"And where are the spark plugs to run it? Where's that?"
Said the virus now tired and upset
Moon water
very rare
iced to perfection
then bottled here.
take a sip
tastes so fine
intoxicates
every time
Moon water
Crater Wine
on the last night here
she went through the gate
but left it ajar
with a glimpse beyond
r r r r
a a a a
i i i i
n n n n
Hawk dives
claws out
hits the lake
tears through the water
rises up
wake settles
curves around
wings extended
someone YELLED,
"If these walls could talk,"
and I in a maze
heard a deafening din
I stared at the painting
with my friend
She turned and said,
"They've hung it backwards!
the GOOD side of the work
is facing the wall!"
I saw out of the void
a Johnny Appleseed
tall as ten suns
walking through space
pulling from his sack
a single red apple
placing it with care
one to a planet
then moving on
never ending...
"This is where short
turns into tall,"
said the tour guide
as he held up his hand
little lantern
copies the Moon
Bright! Bright! Bright!
out too soon.
the raven rises
and disappears
the night noises
stop
daydreaming ...
a milky window
a light fog
a misty rain
Dr. Frankenstein
needed a friend
so he went to his lab
and built one.
my daydream
one cloud
Oops! Tom's in orbit
around Venus again!
I watch the Moon
the Moon watches me
we stare and stare
till I fall asleep
I bought a Zen compass.
Instead of a dial,
there was a wheel!
I pray that bread
tastes like cake
I pray to sleep
I pray to wake
my boat is small
the sea is wide
star gazing ...
mind goes numb
finger painting
on the Moon
he time travelled
from the Middle Ages
and was most impressed
by salt and oranges
I'm allergic
to spaghetti!
maybe a clown
in the circus,
maybe not
dark night with
storms lashing
and one lighthouse left
I saw all the world
wearing one overcoat
against the cold
In the middle of
an empty field
I looked up to see
10,000 white owls
circling as one
a halo over head
can one word hold all the stars?
a field of wishes
tucked into bottles
city without buildings
country without hills
I am running on ground
that is running the other way
Counting and counting
we came to a number
that was the last one.
We had to start over.
there was a drought
over all the land
they built a city
out of paper.
It rose enough
to scrape the sky
and flutter in the
twilight breezes
I took a picture frame
and hoisted it up
after a few minutes
the Moon left the sky
and entered the painting -
a masterpiece!
the psychic sighed
"Oh me oh my
I haven't slept
for the next two weeks!"
the Moon
went up the stairs
The Moon
went down the stairs
in Heaven
everyone rides a bike
the sound of their bells
can be deafening
He was one
who read so much
he learned Braille
to read in the dark
the stone cathedral
sways for an instant
ten miles of birds
flying over my head
Sing! Sing!
Ye choir of angels!
this tea
sweetens itself!
when there's more
books than words
this rose
has bloomed again!!!
and I saw an orbiting row of chairs
each with a poet sitting there
gazing with awe at his slice of the Moon
raised and ready, pen in hand
vacuuming a dust storm
that combine
has run amok
carving dogma
in the crops
this room so vast
inside was out
be like the ducks
when waves lift up,
rise into the air
on hidden wings
I am a messenger
with important information
but lost in a maze
and no one is waiting
Butterfly
floating on the wind
sliding over the blossoms
"Waiter,
my water is too diluted!"
whirlwind of leaves
practicing
the other
white noise
a faint trail
through the graveyard
up
with the lark
from her deathbed
she watches the dust
dancing in and out
of the light
late night in a hotel
watching the lamp post below
people walk into the light
go through it and out again
"What's that ribbon tied to
the handle of the tea kettle for?"
"It's the antennae."
lightning, lightning, lightning,
... but no thunder
trains in a row
all going west
a thousand tracks
all parallel
all packed with -
trains going west
clear dye
Don't float off the ground
It's soooo annoying!
"Wink, Wink, & Nod"
Attorneys at Law
When I push up
on THIS elevator
it starts to 'whoosh'
but never stops
after an hour
I look outside
and see only stars,
stars everywhere
I went in
the religious section
and came out
a different door.
jagged baton
conducting the thunder
what's at the end
of this long aisle?
a breeze tickles
my eyelashes
a whiff of mystery
is left in the air
I play badminton
with the Moon
holding a mirror
in my hand
"Explore the Mansion,"
said the butler.
"But beware the red room.
It contains the 'apple'.
Children -
Make way for the stars!!!!!
Typewriter look!
More poems!
__________________________
Musea is
Tom Hendricks
4000 Hawthorne #5
Dallas Texas 75219
tom-hendricks@att.net
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