Exquisite Corpse - Issue 4
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by Ravi Singh

New Millenium Poem
for Kelly

It rained last night in Escondido,
Now new year bright Sunday a.m.
Red/pink roses wet and sun-drenched,
A nativity among the leaves,
The Tree of the Universe adorned
With unlikely angels, golden earths,
Small bear and ice cream deities.
The ship of lights crosses Time on the wall.
I lay back and see two birds
Alight on power line.
I look into my life,
The procession of heavenly bodies moves me
But I am done with the mysteries.
I breathe, I write, I orient myself
To the opulence of the ordinary.
Ancient Bearded One--
Don't absolve me, don't mandate your priests
To solve me;
I declare my autonomy
And all of humankind dances
To my heartdrum.
I am homeless, hungry and alone.
You who gave us breath also gave us death.
I look into the eyes of a seagull
And see beauty there.
I cross a thousand time zones to be present
And momentous.
I resurrect my DNA from purple diamonds and lilacs.
I sing blue music lions of lightning roar
Out over the orange ocean at twilight.

She flings her black bracelet to the sky and it disappears;
A gift to the people for a thousand years.


Early On

Interplanetary dragonflies cascade through my dream.
An ocean interrupts the chair.
Her hair is the silk river of the sun.
Then lizard men install an amplifier in my brain.
My thoughts fill the sky;
I think firecracker firecracker.
The lizard men burst into flames.
I am her hero.
The ocean recedes to it corridor of calm.
Green dragonflies go home to Mars.


Sitting on my sofa in the sun's cascade.
My litiginous mind sharpens its blade.
Expectant for sweet rush of words to come.
I conjure up a snowman unmoving, dumb.
Not the ubiquitous marshmallow for an artic day--
But the only snowman in LA,
Pure white statue beneath a flowering tree,
Like a beautiful comet on a starry sea.
My being's cold fusion an inverse flame.
I have no geneology.  I have no name.
The die of the gods sweetly align.
I am conscious, capricious, crystalline!
Not a parody of humankind,
Glowing equations unlock my mind.
My liquid death in the searing sun
Is held in abeyance by the Cloudy One.
If you listen intently you can hear my heart.
Am I animal, mineral, or something apart?
Mute guardian of a beautiful realm.
Admiral of earth at my windy helm!
I cannot cry.  I cannot bleed.
So how can I assuage this need?
Maybe I'll be some starlet's whim
At an all-night club or trendy gym.
I have no nerves.  I have no blood.
But I am awash in yearnings' flood.
Maybe I'll work at a taco stand
Or vent my venom in a punk rock band.
I want to ride in your gold Mercedes
O driven men and wanton ladies,
And answer birds' melodious code
Throwing my voice into their leafy abode.
Tawny seed pods constitute my eyes.
Alienation has made me wise.
My very existence is my art.
I sail the avenues in a grocery cart!
I've been adopted by the outcast saints
With their 3 -legged dogs and boxes of paints.
Each dumpster a mystery.
I live outside of history.
I see delicate pink flowers in gray stone urns
As a yellow flower brazenly burns.
A eucalyptus is its own alibi
Dancing in place against a pale blue sky.
Tell me what you want to know
And my elucidation will bestow
Wisdom and wonder, because I have seen
Card players drinking scotch from an old canteen!
I'll be the only snowman on the sand
Where emerald waves come to land.
A holy seagull sweetly nursed
Uses my body to quench its thirst.
Now I'm orange and violet in a twilight park
Where stray cats hunt after dark.
I see Venus on her jet black throne,
Goddess of Love forever alone.
My spine is like a barber's pole.
Stars' crystal cutlasses pierce my soul.
I am solitary but ask no pity.
I broadcast my poems to the sleeping city.
Tomorrow I'll evaporate in the morning light
And join a cloud caravan in ceaseless flight.
I've known joy and I 've known pain.
Next I'll visit Iowa in a fine soft rain.

Publications: Long Song to the One I Love

Email: ravi@ziplink.net

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