The Crabman’s Creel

Thanks to the seemingly inexplicable phenomenon of crustacean mob mentality, for generations crab fishermen have left their catch baskets uncovered, for steadfast captivity is gruesomely guaranteed by fellow inmates’ kapoesque brutality.

Bright with life
percipient pale blue eyes
set
deeply
past virile
chocolate-tanned chiseled brows
caressed harshly
by the waning years’
abrasion of
wind
& setting suns,
witnesses
daily
to brutal,
kapoesque control
of unyielding courage,
perseverance
in the face
of pessimism and envy

The singular
set of bounding blue-tipped
king crab claws
flexing brawn
pull doggedly
upward
from the smothering
abyss
of the crabman’s creel

Above,
beyond
the oppressive
stagnant depths
of pooling,
squirming
black and olive-green
pressure
of dead weight
steadily, by inches
pushing on,
ascending
toward the bluish hue
of daylight’s promise

Teetering
upon the hand-woven wicker precipice
of the unknown
universe:
freedom …
to breathe, uninhibitedly
to live, noisily
to create, frenetically
to thrive, boundlessly
to love, with abandon
within sweet
& savory
seductive sight

Then,
as if by cruel design,
in one of life’s
more mercilessly
culled
capricious moments,
insisting imperiously
upon untimely instruction
of its omnipotent
and fleeting ways,
the crisp, resounding
crack!
of one fellow-contorted-captive’s-stabbing-clamp-like-pinch
jerks
& tugs
forcibly
at the might
& strength
of indomitable determination

Pressing mercilessly
against progress
fearlessness
spills
eyes tumble
downward
into the writhing
sea of pitch
green
envy,
imploding hope

Splash!
into the mob’s
hateful trap:
minds impregnable
to liberating philosophies
severed
from the world
of bluelimitless possibility

Like parachutes
in full plume
the boundless
optimistic mind
swells
with oxygen
and soaring
stoutheartedness
deprived of which
it implodes,
morphing
into a choking cloud
of sulphuric
yellow
suffocation

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The Space between Thoughts, Well Perched Upon the Pugliese Coast

200 ft above,
from a sun-soaked perch
without distraction of obstruction
we sipped
on the cool
of the lulling landscape

The rhythmic purposeful journey
of one singular
white-capped bumbling wave
slipping slowly
towards tranquility
a twinkling
pearl-white sandy beach
bustling
with tiny indistinguishable
creatures
content at leisurely play

Then gently,
awareness,
of profound
a sense of silence,
time stopped,
sitting side by side,
a table set
between mutually unspoken
veneration

Entranced
by this stirring moment’s
humming connection
to something
infinitely unknowable
by ordinary means

Peering deeply
into the elegance of
symmetric
perfection,
unhewn beauty
creation’s natural state

In any
one
of its edifying,
myriad configurations:
an orchid-colored
vermillion sunset,
an ancient
flowering tulip tree,
shimmering
wind-blown
silver-grey undulations
of golden-green olive groves,
speckled
with multiple shades of
orange
pink
and rosey
wild flowers,
a herd of snowy white
long-haired
floppy-eared
milking goats,
gently urged by an old man’s
sparkling smile
from beneath his
torn and
worn-out sailor’s cap,
tussles of black and greying hair
pressing forward to protect
his chocolate
mediterranean sun-smooched
salentinian skin,
like the setting of
a perfect postcard
snapshot
in contrast
to sapphire skies
an azure sea

Vulnerable
to its awesome power,
when unexpectedly
confronted
by simple
earthly majesty,
we very human
beings
– tugged
powerlessly,
toward the precipice of beauty’s unrequited lust,
free-fall
into states of suspended
animation,
within the claustrophobic
confines
of the mesmerized
heart

Then shifting,
shifting
outward,
away
from the enduring emptiness of
wanting…
toward the joyful
completeness of connection,
the desire
to set
and be set free,
as though to keep
this one
infinitesimally
minute stingy moment’s
treasure trove of indulgence
to one’s self,
would shatter
its truth
its existence

The stronger the pull
towards the space
between thoughts
transcendending
time & place
the more compelling
an urge
to bask
in its ebullient presence
with another
kindred soul:
a partner, lover,
an intimate friend

We spiritual beings
in human form
drawn
like butterflies to buttercups
to annihilating beauty
as though
subconsciously recognizing
that within its
unmistakable signature,
lie our very own origins,
an unassailable
singularity
with the infinite,
with creation itself

Powerless

Aroused,
To pricked-ear
Attention

Prone

Basking unaware

In the reflection of
These sturdy, old
Horse-hair-plastered
Bedroom walls’

Vanilla light

Helios’ rising

Cheerily
Unapologetic

Towing mercilessly
His dawning dissonant
Screeching radiance

High and wide
East to west, north to south
Bubbling brilliantly on
The breaking day’s
Golden horizon
Melting
Night’s indigo darkness
Into brighter hues of
Azure blue

Silently
He trumpets
His intrusive morning jeer

Wakening, uninvited
The midnight dreamer
From sound and peaceful pause

Grumpily

Thoughts gather
Like looming
Swirling clusters, of leaden-grey
Milky white winter clouds

Pregnant with ice
With cryptocrystalline
Flakes of unfallen snow

The season enduring in spirit

Well
and Beyond
My resign’ed
Flaccid reception
of December’s intrusive
Annual resurrection

Blaming heaven
and Earth
For this heralding
AM intruder
I wonder:
Just
How many other
People
Circumstances and
Celestial bodies

Unable to harness, I’ll be

On this forever
So long and
Longed-for
April morn’s
Luminescing

eugenfrédéricdaniel

It’s the essence
of passion:
the drive within
creative expression
that seduces me

into quivering
states of leaking flaccid ineptitude

within this mental posture
of artist’s mind

neither age,
nor logic,
nor formlessness

holds paralytic
the import
of so cherished
the left-brain world’s:
linear time,
blood-letting competition,
herculean feats of self-imposed deadlines,
and
stuff-gathering

where beating down
a greedily awaiting
death’s door
does not do

and our lives are ours
to live
with no rule,
but
to love one another’s creation

Contentment’s Guest

Like a child
being pushed
for the first time
on a swing
falling up and back and out
into space
gulping at cool air

caught

between screams of terror
and chortling delight

diaphragm drawn

taut

pushing heart and lungs
forth
ever closer to surging

from pallid lips
pursed
with anguished anticipation
of unknowable ends
to anxious dreams

He falls back to earth
contented
to regain
reassuring reconnection
with familiar
maternal
joyous, laughing
loving arms
and womb-like
repositioning
to gravity’s terrestrial pull

Joy is
contentment’s
welcomed, beloved guest
simply a lodger
lingering longer
than expected

Shark Attack, or Early Morning Angst

Soaring
higher than the flock,
in formation
leading
a lone plover
dives
near head-on
into deserted
a steely coast guard beach

Silently surveying
ominous the roar
an unforgiving sea’s violent crash,
incessant the pounding spray:
tarnished silver undulations
breach the safety
of unsuspecting
hatchling nests

Lower
than my ankles
buried deep
beneath the silt-rich sludge
crisp, lifeless sea grass
revived
to its natural brown rubbery state
with the onrush of inundation

Cold
veiny-grey tides
deepen the shifting crevice:
ocean-river,
sandbars
carved by winter’s icy fury

Sealife
invisible to the eye
daring to rear
a kind and
curious canine countenence
beyond the breaking
watery surface
seeking playmates,
a game of fetch perhaps?

Blood-curdling silence,
screeching for succor
in barely
an audible contrabass gulping pitch
unable to relay his plight
to deaf, or worse,
apparently indifferent
shore-bound
human friends

Underneath,
diamond-sharp
dents de la mer
nip
at soft, gentle
foot-like flippers
convulsing
in jagged crimson jets:
the ruby tide beckons
swarming
lifeless orbs
dark as pitch
to the bloody feast

Distraction

Just yet
upon the precipice
of long-a-sought
tangible peace

Of accepting
why
so impetuously
for a drink, a line, a cookie
a tightly-wound
frangibly unavailable lover
we reach

All satisfying
deeply
hopelessly-entangled-neurocircuitous-urgency
:Guards
against not living

The promise:
blissful chaos
and Flight
from terrorizing
an abyss of boredom
:Death
unsweetened by the pull of light

Summer’s Cruel Retreat

“I wander lonely
as a cloud”
through dark and starless
a September’s night
the cool of aging summer’s
breeze
caressing my naked arms

I should have brought my sweater.

Marching on
toward the light
Kenmore Square
in my sight
arms’ counterpointing
rhythmic swing
to unintended
goose-like steps
a playful cadence
marks the beat

I knew! before opening that fucking email that I couldn’t do anything to resolve this problem before morning. Now I’m angry, distracted, it’s fucking late, and I probably won’t be able to sleep.

Foreboding chill
of an imminent
autumnal arrival
on its heels:
February slush

A sign reads: Whom will you make peace with today? Not winter I assured myself cantankerously.

A shadowy creature
lurches past
my delightfully wafting
leather-clad left foot

A fucking rat? No, not that!

But a brave and lonely
frightened urban hare
staring me down
panicked eyes meeting mine
wildly pulsating
wiry-haired chest
visibly fibrillating
frantically
plotting his options
for impossible escape

What a strange, incongruous site, to cross paths with this timid cotton-tailed creature plodding along dark and bustling a Boston street; ecological efforts working too well.

I hop along
in light-hearted solitude
much like my skittish
leparidae friend
my hind legs propelling
my poetic evening stroll
up and away
taking flight
soaring high and far
beyond
summer’s cruel retreat

Never

Uttering: never
seems a naive way
to self-soothe
from the anxieties of
life’s complex possibilities,
an arrogant posture
attempting control
of the uncontrollable

The only time
it may ever make sense
to consider verbal investiture
in the absoluteness
of this simple
retrospective stance
is upon realizing
that
never,
bears fruit
not ever

Daily Chores

I prepare
for the day’s infinite possibilities
while a subtle
sense of dread
throbs throughout my body

By setting down
the familiar
true encumbrances:
fear-based misgivings
buzzing like wasps’ wings
building a nest in my mind

With each and every out-breath
I unload
my neck & shoulders
pierced with the pinching pain
of my saddle bag’s
sharp leather strap
weighted
with rarely-used
just-in-case
sundry items
purporting to ease
my existential angst

I am released to the day
new
with hopeful innocence:
placing them down
is daily a challenge
but a chore
to which to tend
with delight