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Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Paul Koniecki Delves Into the Miraculum and the Japanese Forest as the Typewriter Keys Open the Jarmusch Scene

harry dean stanton says i 
can remember him anyway i want


my maternal grandfather's
given name was jerome

but everyone called him harry
grandma ann sang i want that man

i cant answer for the dean part or
anything beyond my own bad choices

but if you knew ann then you'd have
seen he never stood a chance

it's an understatement
to say that i am jealous

of the painters and the actors
and the sculptors self-evidently

covered in each day's miraculum
knowing i'd give anything

for a studio of my own
to have something to come out from

i even put on a bowler
and an eye patch before

i sat down just now only to find
nothing helps this poem


-----------



witness to the spectacle 
of fearsome acts 


tonight came in one
door and out the
next you said the
moon is a rock

in the sky i
keep hearing her call
to me the heart
is a japanese forest

of echoes gathering encircled
so loosely it holds
when the enemy is
all that they want

of you next they
tried killing us by
double knots untied
doubt and rope nightmares

where their pillory has
grown up beyond our
means to contain it
murder of ravens unkindness

of doves they have
ordered me to stay
i tried to imagine
kind birds softly floating

over a black-sand beach
as hard work dropped
three honest hammers in
the long grass behind

the barn and you
sing to me of
riding over a green
field by horseback or

levitation fog crowned mountains
on either side
sending a little holiday
joy your way sticks

clubs righteous blessed mean
right hands friends ready
for the fight and
honest enemies watching our

great great grand-dad
reading a thirty-five
hour poem standing on a
shoebox where corners

meet is the strongest
place this is how
the word promissory will
die in the future

making our own shoes
tables plates abomunists coming
later sailing up through
new orleans i burn

the shape of your
lips into light the
thing about silence
is the end

rolling hunter/killers dodging
the tectonic percussion of
plate shift and toothpaste
accusation a distant memory

of enamel the oculist's
revolt eye-teeth and broken
shards of art glued
to a squat wall

the movie 'children of
men' saved on your
phone we dyed our
hair cherry kool-aid pink

long soft hours short
hard days i need
more black of night
with you we echolocate

for water and love
my fingerprints draw the
shape of your lips
into light the thing

about silence is the
end so they will
know we were earthlingers
i read from grandma's

big no big country
big enough book of
socialist recipes for the
hard trip west california-

pennsylvania' so they will
know we were collateral
nov '39  july '71
shred feelings tamp blues

and ownership papers into
a cup hot water
for tea steep paper
drink ink boiling like

steam goes up like
tears in your eyes
come down when
they approach for your

lands or your squat
break the service raise
shards to bloody lips
porcelain patent leather high

heeled boot confusion smooth
reshape ceramic melt arrowheads
and fire accordingly gentility
and full sentences lost

to time to too
many moves batteries tred
worn tires water gambles
lost survival prima prima

prima the shadows swallow
everything parallel lines never
meet to make a
circle you have to

bend to love or
hate hungry is a
god thirsty is a
devil oxygen and comfort

a mother and a
child the thing about
silence is the end
in one door and

out i love you
i love you prima
prima prima survival survival
is always the thing



---------


i feel bad for time
to never have an
end 


the floodlight on the porch
is a motion detector
i crash

at this girl's place black
black hair variant variant
skin raspberry

lips amy wine house around
the eyes wonder woman
around her

lasso-intellect india pale ale
in my mouth jim
jarmusch movie

in the air every time
she pulls me down
again with

her golden rope with her
fine body and her
mean hands

the flood light on the
porch goes off angels
lose their

wings i see your face
i see your face
your face

the scene opens with the
sound of typewriter keys
being pressed

i don't think they are
real typewriter keys being
pressed i

think it is an app
there are five pink
roses on

the card table in a
chipped mint vase those
are real

she wipes my chin with
her forefinger the spoon
is cold

lifting another scoop of butter
pecan to my lips
i freeze

the scene opens on piles
of rock i don't
think the

sound of typewriter keys being
pressed is an application
inside she

wipes my chin with her
forefinger the spoon is
cold lifting

another scoop of butter pecan
to my lips i
freeze the

flood light on the porch
goes off angels lose
their wings

i see your face my
clock is a clock
my hands

are clock hands the ticking
seconds are dogs held
back by

strangers in the dark we
made a tent god told
me to

sing to the rattlesnake as
i held it in
my arms

and felt the snake's head
turn and it's eyes
were god's

eyes and it came for
me and i died
like a

soufflé in the oven with
the door open too
fast letting

all the flies in there
was a class explaining
it all

bow ties and cummerbunds we
couldn't afford cake anyway
boris karloff's

final words were walter pidgeon
the floor shook like
a conductor's

baton drawn and quartered is
a rough go pessimism
isn't creation

and it isn't wisdom when
the rain falls there
is water

and there is gravity i
misunderstand the starting place
green is

happy it isn't gray gray
doesn't know stone can
be beautiful

the valley is a huff
the horses come over
the hill

and the hill shakes like
a lost patch i
don't see

any dogs i hear the
drums plug in the
mic plug

in the mic bring me
everyone bring me every
every one


Based in Dallas, Paul Koniecki's latest books of poetry are, "After Working Hours" from NightBallet Press and "Reject Convention" by KleftJaw Press. His poems appeared in the Richard Bailey directed movie, "One of the Rough" AVFF Cannes at the Berlin Experimental Film Festival in December of 2016. Together Paul and his wife Reverie Evolving facilitate poetry workshops, readings, retreats, and non-traditional publishing in the Dallas area and beyond.