Noema

inkblot turns to whale floating by overhead diving with folktales

leaving stains on folded paper planes head toward the petal of the sea

from twisty tree to twisted tree at every direction it is still a tree 

a constellation of nuance in long consideration inkblot turns to whale

the hiss in the word sky lingers sometimes enough on cloudless seed

wafting in to talk about the last cigarette when you have never smoked

sit under a remarkable pine to contemplate that gnarled twisted tree 

sun rings sink unclouded whale goes undercover where shadows evoke

my noema...

sky gazing in this garden of eloquence darkening blue sky with a single cloud 

wrung into the raging sea breaking pareidolia whaling away with the real pod 

ride the wagon of heaven as Phoenicians sailing with Ursa Major and the little bear 

slung out by fire tail wrapped in Drago hang between seven poles let gates open

vain queen Cassiopeia gazes through Urania’s mirror musing on the moon

slain by reflecting light through holes in the stars they signal and it fell apart it fell apart 

my noema... 

shallow sentinel replanted trees crab feasting on fruits “the coconuts are radioactive” 

run fast coconut run to the emu in the sky with the obscure thought that overwhelms

hello goodbye yokwe with love warmed in the weaves of screw palm and hibiscus leaves

shun what is in a word between paradox of peace and harmony sky castling bravo crater

below bikini atoll idyll atomic fashion coral marked by beast in nuclear age world heritage

shy lagoon plumeria follow open sky hissing bomb pulse Rorschachs sunning on Aomen 

my noema.