Wednesday, June 22, 2011

**Experimenting with some haiku-like/minimalist poetry variations...wanna start getting involved in flash fiction/micro fiction and photography as well. As opportunity allows I will be investing in a nice camera and begin to do that. This is my first excursion into combining images with poetics. Here i've tried my hand at composing 3 interrelated Quincouplet in tribute to soul and blues singer Laura Nyro from the seventies!

A quincouplet is a complete poem consisting of five words on two lines. Two words on the first line and Three on the bottom line. The goal is to say as much as possible within the strict word limit. A quincouplet has a title, but it must only be one word and cannot be the first word of a sentence that is continued by the poem. Titles can be used to establish moods or setting. Here is my first attempt at the form.



SIREN

gritty soprano
scrapping yesterday's tongue.




OPHELIA

tragic chanteuse
with blues' walk.



LAURA

arppeggiated soul's
into tenderberry realness.





©2011/+SpokesmaN

poetics...




A real interesting site with many various forms of poetics!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


**had a wonderful conversation when I first met Mr. Shaun Arts...he actually inspired me to begin looking into purchasing a camera and learning the art of photography. I decided to commit to the electronic pages of my journal the wisdom he offered me.



Spokesman O. PreJean

Your work is awesome Imagist!


Shaun Arts

Thank you poet! I appreciate the respect & acclaim.


Spokesman O. PreJean

Always...im desiring to branch off into photography...i dont knw where to begin at all...can you help me?


Shaun Arts

Look into the various methods of Photography & find what you think is comfortable or affluent to your tastes. Next, get a camera & shoot. Read on Photography as a whole, gather some confidence from there & than approach it with your persona...l style. Do not go at trying to land an accepted style or the norm, which is what we do with the human mind, because who does not want to be accepted? Next, start to show your photography to family, friends, online, & reach out to other photographers. Now, some photographers might meet you half-way, some might be assholes & act as if they should be the only photographers shooting in the world. But, do not allow that to discourage you. Ask to visit some photographer's studios but do not bring your camera unless they ask you (a studio is sacred) & observe. Do not try to find a formula to do what they (the other photographer do) but look at the process. Even though us as photographers have different styles & methods, the process of Photography is unique but at the same time civilized in the mood of the specifics of what brings out a Photograph. Build your portfolio & introduce yourself to Photography. You can do it! Keep me posted with your progress.


Spokesman O. PreJean

Thank you!!!!! Wow in depth, real, and compassionate. I celebrate you nobel imagist and man! I wanted to dip into photography with the idea of combining it with my poetry to create visual art. Wanted to start off writing haiku or vignettes to accomodate that specific cinematic moment. I definitely will follow your wisdom and wld love to stay in touch/network with you. By the way, how long have you been doing this?


Shaun Arts

No problem & you can do it. You just have to apply yourself. It won't be easy & it won't be hard, it will become what you make it. As for your concept, I am sure that you can merge your poetry & photography into one. Just attempt that climb... & you'll figure it out. I have been Writing before I was born & Photographing since my teenage years, so half & all my Life are the math coming out when I look at my Life. However, I have way more to do & to learn. Find a camera that suits you. I won't tell you what make or brand to use or to go film or digital, because to me, the camera is a personal tool & one has to find that path on their own & not in the sense of promoting "a product". The photograph is made from the mind, traveled into the camera & born when it is developed.


Spokesman O. PreJean

Ahhhhhh I dig the scribe in you! Well said/penned I am going to heed the instruction. Looking forward to building. Shalom

Shaun Arts

Sounds like a positive plan. Aim & Live. Peace & Positivity.




©2011

haiku #3




he...like wild rushin'
waves...erroding the coast of
a soul. foolish me...




©2011

Canticle I (dedicated to Mr. Saddi Khali Photos)



**Another gentleman I had the priviledge of connecting with via Facebook...He, just like Mr. Shaun Arts have stirred up within me a desire to get and utilize a camera and begin marrying photography to my poetics. Ladies and Gentleman I present to you Mr. Saddi Khali Photos




Prologue


what lay behind eyes the color of burmese tigers in relaxation? the sense that
creativity hummed and drummed...the provocative upswing of a charlie parker
trumpet droning across the stretch of a tunesian landscape...the sound of feet running
against naked earth--nighttime vibes and restful sighs...what lay behind eyes the color
of burmese tigers in relaxation?
                                                -Poet



Cantlicle I



a
single
focus...
attitude...
subtle cynicism and
an effected
weary sophistication...
underneath,
very much THAT dude, that
kat...homespun swagga or so
they call it;
still flowing beneath...
what lies beneath?
creativity
at its most provocative...
the delicate
forcing of a generations eyes
to behold reality...
not the farce-like, escapists' fantasy reality
but real reality...organic
identity...plain, in-yo-face existence...all
captured photographically
or
verbalistically...
don't matter...
its
what he
does.
pick up your
equipment...
your camera,
the extension
of the world's eyes. imprison
the real images
this world
is hungry for...we've grown tired...
so very tired of the
visual, the media-branded junk-food
we've been
ingesting...now
we need
the meat-n-'tatos of life...the things that matter...
the things, them REAL things...that
matter...that sober
our thinking...
that makes us confront the
real and deal...
deal with those devils
that just wont
be painted
over...
...so, grab yo equipment,
yo one eye'd creature...
capture...
imprison...
steal still happenings of our NOW and
lead us to freedom....the
kind devoid of
empty, vanities....just
the real...
the organic...
the authentic...
life...
thank you.





©2011/+SpokesmaN

monoku (toablk&whitestillofgirlwithtattoos)


(vii) 

she, blk & white still. skin icons...living effigy of expression. defiant.




©2011

imagist (dedicated to Mr. Shaun Arts)




**One of my associates on Facebook is an exceptionally talented photographer by the name of Shaun Arts...please support and check him out. His work is mad crazy and enlightening. I love individuals who become living, breathing, working art. Don't you? Here's a little piece I quickly composed in ode to him and his craft!





prowess...
raw potentcy...
autocrat in the
realm of celluloid and film...
him...
yes, a him...
complex soul
yet painfully simple...
that was..is...the
beauty of this being...his ability
to capture things...
his skill at
freezing the world in the orb
of his steel eye..that
cold eye...often impersonal and unfeeling;
yet in his hands...
giving...
extending...
creating...
yielding...
breathing...
blowing... new meaning...fresh unveilings
of colors and vibrant life-tones...
hippin' our ears & awakenin' our
eyes to the minutes...
the moments we often
pass and miss...
imagist...
him...
yes, a him...painfully out of place amid this
bronze noise and fast-paced world...content
to flash his medusa-like eye
capturing every minute
detail in
blk and white, color or inverted foreverness...
the imagist...
simplistically labrynthine...walking
oxymoron,
ona...mata...peia...
silent yet loud...imagist...
imagine...
that!





©2011/+SpokesmaN

20 something AM Sequence [by: SpokesmaN & Love No Limit]

**This is a recent sequence conducted with a Facebook accquaintance who's equally skilled in poetics.American Sentences were introduced by Allen Ginsberg as the method of Americanized haiku's. American Sentence are verticle haiku's of seventeen syllables (with a syllable added or taken away in some instances). He sought to introduce this form to those of us with a love of haiku and its for the capturing of those snap shot like moments in time. Another favorite poet of mine, Sonia Sanchez remarked that the discovery of haiku taught her to slow down in this fast-paced life and catch those little moments that often pass us right by; and we later regret...it was referred to as 'haikuography. Enjoy these little moments in both of our minds.




(viii) - after-ripples of sound left when you hastened out of this life...left empty.

Love No Limit - Roads diverged and thresholds passed from smiling to solemn silence; come back.

(ix) - hen-pecked...he came. with silent trajectory slightly off with wide tears.

Love No Limit - Anticipation of this moment dissolved, to inhale each other.

(x) - some part of me, noise in absinthe....waiting for his crucifixion grins.

Love No Limit - Confronted by memory, cut from your winks...in need of healing oil.

(xi) - within, slippery feet attacking the dry roads of a deadned mind.

Love No Limit - A redundant journey instinctive as a pulse; cold steaming movement.

(xii) - putrid yesterdays, many mouths; sepulchers, the bones of singing lies.

Love No Limit - Echoes deja-vu, many sounds but just one Word rises from the dust.

(xiii) - he rose....ascent up stairs of air....eyes pregnant; side-glances rum-like in.

Love No Limit - Though I laid attentive in discipline, my spirit paid its own price.

(xiv) - thought I heard. Weary thighs, stale orchestras and the timpani of boredom.

Love No Limit - A melody paused by mercy and hope for rhythms of brotherhood.

(xv) - toothless response to silence--three indian guys peddling libidos.

Love No Limit - And no protein boost was great enough to destroy their innate value.

‎(xvi) - he...smiles really nasty freakdom behind high verbiage...we move past.

Love No Limit - She ponders the maze of his chemistry, unwillingly justified.

‎(xvii) - no time for the games...three monkeys blissfully unaware...silence moves.

(xviii) - baleful cries fill the air as I prepare to leave for work--see him...craziness.





©2011 SpokesmaN/Love No Limit

haiku #2



battered afternoon,
debauched thoughts leading-this cent/
rifugal breath falls.



©2011

2 American Sentence


(a) - silent musings, loan scholar seeking the way, transformed mind, soul, & body.

                     ©2011/+SpokesmaN


‎(b) - lone blk sistah gatherin' each yesterdays' mem'ries, bathtub full....bathin.'

                    ©2011/+SpokesmaN

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

pursuit...

i
watched that
man run..
he ran
after it...
outran all
those around him.
his
insatiable quest
for it
drove him
to diminish the value
of relationships
around him...
feeding his
insecurities,
those past inadequacies-
yesterdays' tears and pains...the
nostalgia of darkened days
full of no quality and
fears...once
his feet grew...once he
shook off
lameness he ran...
outran
all of us...
his pursuit was ravenous....animalistic at best...
he ran...and
i silently
watched him run and run and run
until he outran even himself...
violently opposed to
the stability of
just being...he had to have it.
had to possess it...
he wanted it...
until it would
possseeesssssssssss him...
over ride and over take him......
flying over his head...
he would die for
it and die
he would...
...i
watched that
man run...
run with speed born of desperation...
a desperate need
to prove he was somebody...
somebody who knew something...he knew...
knew a lot...and for all
the running after
it...the saddness was...
his life halted
and he continued to run;
his life
stalled
and he kept sprinting...chasing...
running it down...until he
could possess it.
never
satisfied because it is just like
lust...an endless, bottomless belly
of unsatisfied, primal
need.
from virile, handsome, talented man
to an old, dry, bitter
crone of a man...his life shed off
like vapor and his speed
after it was too
quick to notice...
his pursuit of that it...
that thing
men kill for...the thing
men forsake all for...
the fruit of a tree
cursed and
poisoned...
the it...
the fruit
the tree
bearing
KNOWLEDGE...
we...
wept...
we...
watched...
we...
wearied ourselves with
prayer...
praying he
would...just...stop!
eventually
he
died running
after it...
running after knowledge...
and what
enhancement to him
did it ever
provide?


none..........

is it really a necessity?




©2011/+SpokesmaN

Monday, June 13, 2011

Mini-Affection Letter...

monoku

(a) - enjoying this vibe...the restoration of fragmented Me to wholeness by Him...



wrapped what i felt
in the silence
of shared laughter...
the volume
of what
u
mean to
this soul
is beyond
words, sounds, and
any type
of syntactical
structure...
you
continue to
astound
me...
you..
you...and
always you...
grateful...
appreciative...
how
awesome,
how Kodesh
are you...
YAHWEH.



©2011

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