Logical Song Consecration of each word: lovingly drawn from a ferociously angled, elegant well. With blood: only that rare thing common to all is of sufficient loveliness to lend its darkness to night. Eyes- and a genealogy of glances. Histories- and overflowings of the diary. This logic is a mimicry-bird of compulsion. _____ Unfamiliar words: Since, sun, you have turned night to day. I tell you, some raise the children in death. And all peoples march, incessantly. Great, golden klitoris, you open the womb of all daytime's activity and darken sometimes, shuddering suddenly. Silently, sullenly writing life's time like gold-blood pleasure upon the wind's invisibly talking leaves... I foresee the green after-glow, emerald oblivion. Forgetfulness. _____ Gold sweet dust, gud-smile, incessant praise of light Star white knowing, Fixed silver of scent-sleep, Obedience of the smallest particles; Deep curved purple and wooden breast, Capillary leaves, skeletal leaves; High slant of face bone, Agility of nostril and tendrils of hair plasm and light-food, glowing globules of face-milk, egg-shell teeth (small purveyors of bites) Twin-star teats with rose darkening autumn, Furrowed dance of slopes and lean-nesses, There this word serves as continent shelf for your belly, forest of pelvis, Aroma of pine, needle-musk, suicide of mists and folded angles of angel's concouisaence, there: the book is folded into the geography of birth marks, a guitar is deep shook as the bowls of your gravity, any weeping pieces of home, any slow-light sleep sight And can't the voice tremble? Weaved into a forelock by the wind At a more pure sound... The reflection of nothingness from a mirror the sky black By way of black Night: artificial responses nutrients by way of binaries And the terrible, open mouth of Chaos concealed inside the tree... The digital lens- identifying ever more obscure precision in its presences. The absolute zero- unreaching space like a temperaturical inertia. The current event- passing incontrovertible Edicts into the introvisible folds of history. _____ The daylit pallor to the slow shapes of cloud sky. The voice raised aloft beat pure wings of heart- slicing the ravished flesh of the sun's invisibly visible innocence. Held aloft- light-day-trail of words in a space of pure vibration: "Courage, forms! The unsleeping eye of the All-Other mimics the contour of your form! Alarum! Cry out! Go! Speak the mordant presence of the counter-diction to be!" Slowly, visibly, invisible light locks each stone weight into place. The eye trembles... STANLEY GEMMELL FLORIDA, 1997Paintings:Tiffany Cabral
