Thursday, January 28, 2016
"The Poet Laureate of PCH"
Bill Mohr wrote a blog post about my poetry.
You can read the piece at http://www.billmohrpoet.com/kevin-opstedal-the-poet-laureate-of-pch/.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Soft Target
The moon is racing thru the clouds
& the piano needs a haircut
Midnight is a sustainable resource
dancing among the deep velvet accessories
assembled here at the bottom of the sea
where you are striding thru the swaying kelp grove
towards me
every step reinventing the tide pool architecture
as Sirens sing their plaintive doo-wah ditties...
but now we're on the business end of a rainy Thursday
sloshing around in here watching TV with the sound off
I can supply all the dialogue & commentary as needed
or not
flickering blue light in black & white
fishtank auras
& not far from here the shoreline is a steel blade
with a serrated edge
& the piano needs a haircut
Midnight is a sustainable resource
dancing among the deep velvet accessories
assembled here at the bottom of the sea
where you are striding thru the swaying kelp grove
towards me
every step reinventing the tide pool architecture
as Sirens sing their plaintive doo-wah ditties...
but now we're on the business end of a rainy Thursday
sloshing around in here watching TV with the sound off
I can supply all the dialogue & commentary as needed
or not
flickering blue light in black & white
fishtank auras
& not far from here the shoreline is a steel blade
with a serrated edge
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Ace of Tentacles
for Micah Ballard
I prefer the laughter of strangers
to the photo op I missed on purpose
as it may be the only remaining evidence
of an inner war of attrition I tend to gloss over
livid with ritual anomalies I could fake but
couldn't explain even if I wanted to
Ceremonies of crushed glass might ignite the
sea-mist in somebody's dream
where I'm feeling conspicuously invisible
as always when I'm holding
but only to sidestep a rendezvous of bad intentions
with braided sunlight knocking on the sheet
music as a shadow might tune the hibiscus
an octave higher
That first cold plunge into salt foam
dealing you a hand from the bottom of the deck
as if haunt & fortune determined in the trim
& though I may strum lost chords you
might find that the tune is vaguely familiar
a midnight sun at high noon folded into a sound
"Love's Apparition & Evanishment"
in 3/4 time
I prefer the laughter of strangers
to the photo op I missed on purpose
as it may be the only remaining evidence
of an inner war of attrition I tend to gloss over
livid with ritual anomalies I could fake but
couldn't explain even if I wanted to
Ceremonies of crushed glass might ignite the
sea-mist in somebody's dream
where I'm feeling conspicuously invisible
as always when I'm holding
but only to sidestep a rendezvous of bad intentions
with braided sunlight knocking on the sheet
music as a shadow might tune the hibiscus
an octave higher
That first cold plunge into salt foam
dealing you a hand from the bottom of the deck
as if haunt & fortune determined in the trim
& though I may strum lost chords you
might find that the tune is vaguely familiar
a midnight sun at high noon folded into a sound
"Love's Apparition & Evanishment"
in 3/4 time
Friday, January 8, 2016
Metaphysical Therapy
for Leweye
"Time's winged chariot" can be a real clunker, you know?
gears grinding, wings creaking
barely avoiding tree branches, telephone poles & other obstacles
(fainting Desdemona of the Andes
for example)
Today the open sky has been shut down for repairs
& the detour takes us thru Pasadena by way of Kathmandu
At least the radio works
We listen to Lightnin' Hopkins singing C.C. Rider thru the wrong end
of a steel culvert ("Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-
See Rider
see what
you done
done")
sounding a whole lot like a redwing blackbird
serenading the 405 at rush hour
in the rain
"Time's winged chariot" can be a real clunker, you know?
gears grinding, wings creaking
barely avoiding tree branches, telephone poles & other obstacles
(fainting Desdemona of the Andes
for example)
Today the open sky has been shut down for repairs
& the detour takes us thru Pasadena by way of Kathmandu
At least the radio works
We listen to Lightnin' Hopkins singing C.C. Rider thru the wrong end
of a steel culvert ("Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-
See Rider
see what
you done
done")
sounding a whole lot like a redwing blackbird
serenading the 405 at rush hour
in the rain
Friday, January 1, 2016
The Wrong Goodbye
Fire-breathing dragons, leviathans & Godzillas
emerging from the deep
along w/something that resembles an
octopus in a leotard?
The setting sun burns a hole in the dark silk sky
a wall of fog drifting in off the water...
you thought it looked like Frida Kahlo descending a staircase
I thought it looked more like Percy Sledge in a limousine
The cypress sighs
a breezy whistle
shadows on pebbled glass
The steep fogmist gave me yet another reason
to double back thru the cuts
Ape in the rain at Cuernavaca
versus dice games on the ocean floor
There's no equivalent & no disclaimer
silk & neoprene
variations on a theme
from one slippery mind to another
emerging from the deep
along w/something that resembles an
octopus in a leotard?
The setting sun burns a hole in the dark silk sky
a wall of fog drifting in off the water...
you thought it looked like Frida Kahlo descending a staircase
I thought it looked more like Percy Sledge in a limousine
The cypress sighs
a breezy whistle
shadows on pebbled glass
The steep fogmist gave me yet another reason
to double back thru the cuts
Ape in the rain at Cuernavaca
versus dice games on the ocean floor
There's no equivalent & no disclaimer
silk & neoprene
variations on a theme
from one slippery mind to another
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