PHILLIP
MATTHEW
ROBERTS
HEAD LIKE A CAMERA
Field notes for
tentative cinema
(Various sets and
locations
scenes: 1-3)
Roam beneath
desolate night…
Abandoned ruins
and bombed edifices
behind fallout
shelter walls
dimly moonlit
enough to read
the marred
profanity
and failed
political bullshit.
No such thing as a
last war.
(Various sets and
locations
scenes: 4-7)
Behave as if a
disembodied pronoun
scanning beauty
and the grotesque.
Carry no official
credentials
except one bold
carte blanche
empowered as
spilled virility.
A noire passerby
crossing charred
bridges
beside silhouette
clock towers
whose mourned
hours
are chimed
arbitrarily as
wind
swept ashes.
Boundaries of the
loose holstered
patrolling
midnight countries
after the sky was
corrupted,
an azure deity
profaned
until it resembles
sludge.
(Various sets and
locations
scenes: 8-10)
Nearer vivid
imagination
than fading
remembrances.
Everyone of
significance:
the gowned wife
and family
all relics
dislodged
in dregs and
dirges.
How hollow the
past tense
echoing lonesome
threnodies.
(Various sets and
locations
scenes: 11-14)
Frantic laughter
chases after lightening
like epiphanies
descended.
Ensue songs for
the trespasser…
A lone wandering
departure
toward shadow
limned mountains
(neither real nor
dreamt) draped
by iodous
twilight.
Dumb slumberous
body
burdened with a
symbol laden mind,
a camel through
the needle's eye
risking visual
cliches
for revelations
inside
the labyrinth.
(Various sets and
locations
scenes: 15-17)
Penthouse dwelling
of the nameless elite
ensconced in
leather bound libraries.
Goethe hung
regally from oak walls
garbed in pale
ripples of flowing white
pristine as a
gentleman's promise
juxtaposed by long
tracking shot streets
where smudge-faced
budding urchins
learn and embrace
thieving traditions
among the
marginalized vanquished
and sullen
impoverished…
Class distinction
is one colossal fence
maintained at all
costs
in every century.
JOURNEY BETWEEN POINT
A AND B
Implores in a
manner inexplicable,
away from daily
commerce and normalcy
toward honest
confusion whose generosity
brings me back to
the words.
Unlikely stones
made into palaces
for my weary
unrest; mausoleums
constructed from
slumber
and the future.
Sculpt absences
with them the way
star lanterns
kindle incompleteness
--all those vast
betweens
reduced to simple
prepositions.
Objectivity
swathed in connotation,
enticed deeply
inside her arabesque
until reality
softens
into hushes
of afterthought.
The cities that
exist no longer
and each person
has returned
to their real or
abstract nouns.
Unuttered sounds
preserved
in these myriad
emblems,
silently the
baroque hours
embroidered by
mystery.
S&5
: a synopsis intimating the threnodic
removal of "sin" (or what's merely human)
from the senses at theorized thresholds
Accompanied by familiar
lonesomeness
who wearily travels at my
thorn pierced side,
a faceless companion
voicing monologues macabre
about invitations into the
unremittent
black intuited from birth
and its unknown
antithesis.
Dark bloom demarcated by
delicate silhouettes
opened up to the pale
pated gibbous moon
more steadfast than all
loves mimicked
by ceaseless reiterations
echoing the vacant
human condition
Those secret insecurities
locked inside
your vanity should tremble
in rightful
awe at the everywhere
unnameable
from Riemann's ethereal
hypothesis
or Boltzmann's definitive
constant
buttressing those
contiguous borders
along one's imprisoned
mind
where knowledge ceases.
Count the atoms in a
single star
and witness my submissive
faith condense
into a radius defining the
needle's infinite eye
where Schwarzschild's
equations are realized,
found in the boundless
cosmic deep.
Hear the final drums beat
while they throb on fire;
bells ever diminished
fainter
in the now forgotten past
that never existed.
Would tell you I am
departing
but I've already leapt
into the sublime afar,
veiled behind a covenant
your monotonous
abandonment
cannot recapitulate.
PHILLIP
MATTHEW ROBERTS
the best living poet i know; his work stands on it's own and has no age or time limit. Excellence in word form.
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