Herons Harrie Herrings

Herons Harrie Herrings

L. Edgar Otto    28 July, 2013

My

Long neck

Powerful

Nature's accident

Vulnerable to teeth

Wading by the rapids

Frogs or fish, oily down, July flies

Returned to time's migrations, same new year

* * * * * 
 

Herons Harrie Herrings

L. Edgar Otto    28 July, 2013

My

Long neck

Powerful

Nature's accident

. . . . .

Vulnerable to teeth

(Watch) wading by the rapids

. . . .   . . . .

Frogs or fish, oily down, July flies

Returned to time's migrations, same new year

* * * * * 

Herons Harrie Herrings (Complete)

My

Long neck

Serpentine

Formidable

Nature's accident

Vulnerable to teeth

Stalking, wading by the rapids

Mirrored swirls discerned, fog dew spins

Frogs or fish, oily down, July flies

Returned to time's migrations, same new year

* * * * *

Axiom of Quasi-choice

L. Edgar Otto    29 July, 2013

Grand

Singlets

Unified

Gravity waves

Many paths the real

Collapse into one choice

Messages in Klein's bottles

Indefinite Infinity

Dimensionless constants transfinite

Sleeping ducks hide their necks inside their wings

* * * * * 

Note: photo of crane HD oil painting like enlargement by the bridge in Eau Claire, WI  by me...Frog and fly by a local sculpture for the sculpture tour last year... Link to toads suggestion of the form showing a wide range of subjective and natural concerns... 

Under the Magnolia Tree

Under the Magnolia Tree

L. Edgar Otto   19 July, 2013

In dreams we go back to places
we have known going back and forth again
in awakened life

Stepping out of an air conditioned theater
into the humid balmy sun the change
can send us other worldly

Which side of the sweating looking glass
of the stage and curtain fall in encore
do we drip with weather fronts of memories?

Lately, bidden to visit dreams, I long for
the rose garden and the sundial the
slower pace outside street theater

By day near ancient roots of Davy Crockett oaks
talk of what the students learned in Chapel Hill
finding myself some sacred spot finds my home

By night as if a tent for a canopy sleeping
under the Magnolia tree seeing but out of sight
its bed of leathery leaves do not return to the ground

Not in my short lifetime just before the sweetness
yet tragedy so close this generation to immortality
to be a forgotten Thor drawing on Eve's back

Some myth, some message, secrete signs,
all very proper the wind and peek-a-boo behind
our opening then dance of our fans

Stirring up a mix of perfumes the cones full of
bright red seeds on a magic wand or natural flag
bursting forth in seasons birth measured waters

Your white gowns before the thirst lost in the salt
before the three days we need to lick the dew
when the blossoming is pure, naked but not afraid

Close to the plantation no one can afford to build
our fleeting souls auctioned off, our own the frozen sin
all gone but some elemental tree before the storms

* * *
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2013/07/artistic-interpretation-dog-days-of.html

They Cannot Kill the Mockingbirds

They Cannot Kill the Mockingbirds

L. Edgar Otto     July 13, 2013


A slice thru time so thin yet so full the Now
No thought for tomorrow, no regrets in yesterday
Today is Yesterday's Tomorrow and
It is Always Morning Somewhere in the World

Raindrops become horizontal rods
Your charged heart drinks from the rain barrel
The weather front moves seeded lightning
Changes the climate and the wind

How fleeting you are by the rose garden
One seasons flower but hardly mortal
The sundial and shadows pole dancing star
Only once did we return in spiral promises

Hearts Helen Keller deaf and blind we then
In the company of mocking birds dawn chorus
Evening's goodbye's, at eclipse all night walking
Moon beams by the planetarium

Smooching in the Old Forest Theater or the
Arboretum no one goes so late ten years ago
A coed vanished there Tom Wolfe's words in bronze
O grieved ghost lost to the wind come back again

Recycled or no deposit, no return the staves shift
Those scratches age but not your song in fading scars
Life running thru the rosy thorns, black berry briers
Goodnight Sweetheart, and urn, and dust and stars

So deep the grasping sense of life a cage yet fans desires
Shared songs ours yet not our own mocks not Love's fires
* * * * *

for Fireblossom's mini-challenge on http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

Wendy is Pregnant in Never-Land

Wendy is Pregnant in Never-Land

L. Edgar Otto    July 13, 2013

I put my foot into the Arctic Sea
one small step I in stark relief aware
Thru the fog of my dream's sunlight
awakening a forest of sea bed sponges

What an aurora of her curls
old fires, and daughter young
Deadpan that red heads report
global warm, they feel less pain

Civilized indeed the art as light
our artists can do no wrong
The Peter Pan in me moon walks
in stark craters, seeks to belong

Near the poles, some Northwest Passage
facing the icy mounds of frost and midnight sun
I did not know transfixed this awakened
in me a deep recurring dream, a shortcut

From the tropics rapidly find the gold
or the journey takes an ice bound year
Longer than the walk, than supplies
wooden ships surrounded by the ice

By the sunset watch at the beach in Victoria
when the sun never set on her empire
Spinning East receding Eden toward the
ring of fire dreams peaceful battle for the West

If we could fly on this makeshift stage
without a chord umbilical or discern the
Pitch of voice dubbed over for a child
girls playing boys, eunuchs, we'd  fly forever

The aphids Nature loves so, so many on alfalfa
when excited by one blink an aerogel cloned light
Perpetual motion they drink runneth over in poetry
as far as we can tell, they are born pregnant

* * * * *

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=mZmNXn7R7TE

http://youtu.be/qr-kC71fy6g

Whisper Dolls

Whisper Dolls

L. Edgar Otto   July 10, 2013


Hi
There
Your face
Fall from grace
First word made of space

White
Noise
Echos
First of light
Hollow praise sea shells

Blocks
Night
Old age
Records music
Yet forgets the song

Stands
Firm
No change
Egg case seeds
Spiral beyond us


Olney on the endless plain
Thousand times around the beach
A thousand named dream lakes marsh bog
Alive amoeba tendrils thru the fog
Reach out to feed on other stars
That fill the sky without shadow gaps
Craters add to faces, canals of mars

Oh Mare maid, Sphere Virgin in the godhead
In your mortal life why that Owl you wed
Moons and rivers flowing red hysteria
Swooning for the mustached corporal
White noise on bridal sheets the proof
Martyrdom but once redeemed in sacrifice
Appease volcanoes before your age of ice

A million years from the stone age
Ingrained our ancient tongues

The scarabs navigate by the milky way
Ropes in the prairie trailing compass straight

Covered wagons stop short of the great divide
Sod cabin in white out saved the canary for
A little bit of color and memory of its song
Long the wagon wheels leaving scars but
Once to use the lids of canning jars
Twice warmed wood cutting and its fires
Life a corkscrew cannot escape the rime

Where the music seeks the tone that's near
All then fixed so lost by improvisation
Chaos as disruptive laughter cycles in the
Twelve tones of the zodiac so no escaping
Return to sign, to dust, to water seeking levels
Enter Eros a thirteenth disciple, no endless fall
Our petty love not smaller than a grain of sand

On a lake at night, my lantern for to cling
Attracting mayflies and flames consuming moths
A thousand double stars, pairs of eyes do not know
In reflection I can see them gazing silent, still

Dry
Mud
Falls out
Baby teeth
Log cabin wind draft

Old
Coin
Chickens two
Hoover every pot

Lost
Bones
Wash ashore
Of reign deer and man

* * * * *

Kerry's Wednesday Challenge ~ Rhapsody   for imaginary garden

LiLi in Her Prime II

LiLi in Her Prime II

L. Edgar Otto   07 July, 2013

Tempted by the Big Apple

sunrise against the dark to walk a day

with LiLi in her prime

thru Central Park

Now I recall the streets

tin pans where music's made

no rest, keep moving on sidewalks

for my feet, subways and orangeade

Crowds crowding me unseen hands

caress yet pick my pockets

some trick to beg for my last dime

I used to call home homesick

Tempted by the Big Apple

I still a fallen rebel on the road

with LiLi in her prime share a

sunrise scoop in Central Park a la mode

Twice a year stone clock towers

let the dawn come thru skyscraper

grid avenues as my youthful

dreams long for light in those missed hours

Trees and songbirds glow again in Brooklyn

far away yet near that skyline thru her eyes alone

at night between Gotham's belfry and her 

Chelsea morning the Village now a garden

Tempted by the Big Apple

sunrise she inspires the rhyme I

walking thru heartland's garden park

with LiLi in her prime 

Beyond storms in heart that made me cry

so brave a miss to grace shores I've loved

trees and songbirds now fill the skies may

she get her piece of the big apple pie

* * * 

Outside her window time a confetti fall she watches the parades

as I window dress my shop of dreams Dylan like or Ferlinghetti

* * * *

Note:  I am getting closer in this yet another attempt to make a song - this one

may fit the chords better... but I post it as is for the poetry's sake.  Who could 

have foreseen I would miss New York City hitchhiking with a few pennies to find her

in that time coming back from overseas to New Jersey trying to find America again.

*
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/  linked for open post monday as work done outside the garden.

LiLi's amazing video

Old Man and the Plenty Cuddle Fish Sea

Old Man and the Plenty Cuddle Fish
Sea

L. Edgar Otto   03 July, 2013


Same thing
cruise ship
sun burn
standing into danger
Key Largo
Damn Cuban coast guard

Explore your
naked homeland
avalanche
wind chill
broken leg ski slope
fake snow

Already there
coconuts
trade winds
standing water
Big Valley
Grand Canyon
Winnebago
Lucy collecting stones

Liberty leave of mind
Picket fence
Tom Sawyer vibes
xylophone all rooms
trace our spines

* * * *

For http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/  vacation beach blanket bingo 60 word poem prompt Mama Zen

Anthos Pyros

In Solitude we cannot fly solo
Goddess of my evening Star or
shining morning

I can no more see you come
noonday than your arms
jaguar freckle bright milky way

Holds up my sky at night.

* * * *

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/   for the Open Monday poem prompt, as all poems on this blog to the imaginary garden with real toads