poems by Rudolf Kurt Penner

lo-fi protocols

It’s so boring when you’re drunk
to hear ordinary announcements
You take a hard rock candy Black Russian along on your bike
riding in the Sun-day
thru the throngs of Sun-Run
roadies all spooked in white
with printing, black in nature

The cloud rolls in, but it is not sick,
there’s an eerie clamour towards
the sky; red pens won’t
record the district atmosphere
sentimentality is on record as being obscene, but would
you and I agree

When boredom drives you to the
movies – any movie will do
while the organs play in a small town –
you’d be hard-pressed to hear two together in this day and age; maybe
congruously in several towns
via satellite or VOIP
but no SOUND QUALITY CAN endure
the lo-fi protocols
of quick  snappy   access to sound

dream of a fat pig flying thru the sky
with motorized jet stream coming out of its arse

The bike is orange
the racing flag decals
black and chequered white
The drink is brown
with massive cubes of God’s ice
The peacock struts its stuff

some claim a narcissistic pattern
but not so – the St. Nick of your soul must rest in Narcissus

taking + picking gold rings from
the fir & gold tree
They have beed wrested well from strangers
who had them made, carved + poured in molds
the wax ran out

the pig was rescued from the sky
which was yellow and silver today

caring for the debut princess
in the school play
the theater of the mind;
a boy reading in his Boy Scouts outfit
clear as a bell that rang from hell

The Theatrical Director will sing
the oranges will fall from a crate and barely bounce
for fear of brown
warehouse darkness

like the Orange
the mind can be full of zesty honours
just fit for flashy birds to take
on their journey
missive cues of god’s mind
a translucent cold
fear of racing wheels

* vocabulary: missive
© 2015 Rudolf Kurt Penner

April 23, 2015 Posted by | wild and free | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Poetry

photo of rudolf in blue dragon shirtMy poems are a way of working through issues, discussing with myself and others the nature of life experience. Some ways of being force us to really stretch, and here my poems take twists and turns into abstract escapism. Finding images to release the individual from tension is not always easy. Others may relate and give their own interpretations to my poetry, just as they do to others’.

This is all part and parcel of the game and art of poetry. What a reader or listener finds in words is for their own benefit. Sometimes they’ll be unable to find common ground at all. Then they can either just appreciate the rhythmic flows and patterns, the occasional rhyme, the concocted verbs verbatim, the shining, glimmery phrases and stanzas or depart vehemently to the race of human humdrum.

A general feeling may be all that one can get from a poem. This is great. Go ahead, live in that vision of an alternate reality. It may take the place of a sorrow or a pain. It may help in gaining distance from a crazy experience. All these ways of appreciating or dialoguing with someone else’s wordforms are fine. There is no right way to read a poem.

Feel free to comment if you wish, or be inspired to write some verse of your own, and share it with others, or hide it in your attic.

February 24, 2008 Posted by | Explanations: Philosophies of Poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment