Posted on: February 17, 2012
The Pressure of Love
Electrode laden, head bound
with elastic and néedles of gel; a moment
of security and peace— machines
running warm, energy’s lulling
sound, fluorescent
light and fluorescent walls: a lover
in a lab coat clears
her throat
and fidgets with cords.
A lover’s soles
scoff
against linoleum, the laden brain
excites the coated lover
whose foreplay
is an intricate setting
up of connections, plugging
the brain up
to machines
after rubbing skins: some call the act
of abrasion the beginning
of a sacred conception.
Both the heating
and the cooling
of body and brain, lover and machine
fall into a space
between
pleasure
and pain. The child
of connectivity appears on a plot
of wave
forms that turn
the lover into a parent
of interpretation
long after
the brain detaches from the clamps
of its lover.…
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Posted on: February 14, 2012
Untangled
eyes ensemble truant disbelief
burgeoned cultural
denounce cultivated
fathoms amid fulcrum of
asymmetry’s desirous
imbalance
uneven distribution of unraveling sadness
these listeners combining ecumenical (gradations of such interest)
methods of attentive multifunction
Fragments
sway
of
twirl
of
sedentary
oscillation the
watchers becoming a listening emblem, interpreting
howl of hollow contours
combining enigma ventilating enunciating hanker among
solid veracity this
vacant summary out(cast)side
wanderers of diligent proclamation
– by Felino Soriano
Copyright© 2012, by Felino Soriano. All Rights. Reserved.
Felino A. Soriano is a case manager and advocate for adults with developmental and physical disabilities. Recent poetry collections include Intentions of Aligned Demarcations (Desperanto, 2011), Pathos etched, recalled: (white sky books, 2011), and Divaricated, Spatial Aggregates (limit cycle press, 2011). He edits and publishes the online journal, Counterexample Poetics. For information regarding his published works, editorships, and interviews, please visit: www.felinoasoriano.info.…
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Posted on: February 1, 2012
Van Gogh’s Wheatfield With Crows. 1890
Forty Illusions Before Midnight
Birds never fly away
Fish never swim away
The sun never sets
We are idiots of ego
The only revolutions
That matter are the violent ones
The ones that force us to cast off
Me mine me mine
The only revolutions that matter
Are those that reveal
All is relative
All is contingent and evanescent
Like the leaf that falls because
She says so
…
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