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(page 83 of 93)

Humane Sense of Images
Poem by Jesus Chameleon
Previous (page 82)  |  Return to Contents  |  Next (page 84)

Humane Sense of Images
Poem by Jesus Chameleon

(page 83 of 93)

Keywords: eleventh transmission, poetry, fiction, photography, visual art, spoken word, film, socially engaged,
political, human experience, writing, satire, photojournalism, activist art, activism, socially conscious, art

Humane Sense of Images

by Jesus Chameleon

Impressions, scenes, the senses, landscape lenses---
                                                    Yesterday, today, tomorrow;
                                 Quiet, they pass.  
Alone they sit on the cold, dry, glossy egg of their original relief,
Plop, splatter, scratch;

                                                              Sweet liquid on the skin,
                            Gives off the odor of cologne.  Dry shampoo
   On the visage, drips with the scent of peppermint.  The jungle
Rested in the nippy night air with the release of a drafty soil eau de

Palate wet with the bitterness of a morning brew,
An evening stew,
An afternoon of true seasonal elegance,
               Invites more of an impressive yesterday,
An intuitive today,
                                            Invites a noisy, rational tomorrow;

Airplanes screech by that vibrate on the bones.  
    Radio sounds
                    Pop, fiddle, drum to the music of classic tunes,
                                                                      Playing on, on, on.  
Sibling hears humming of an oxygen pet on a long leash to
                                                                    Continues to sleep;

Anger leads to compulsiveness,
                        resolve.  Happiness weeds out penultimate sin
                  Beyond a wink, a blink, a sink in sync,
                                       Happiness which involves concession.  
          Repression leads to repentance, then to absolution,

Alas, the soul is replenished with rice or wheat, meat, sweet desserts!  
                                                           Liquified with fizzy drinks,
                                                                             Bottled water,
                         Palpitates with accomplishment.  Body relaxes
By a cooling thing, which circulates to a new threshold of inspiration.

Poetry by Duane Locke.
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