Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: Charles Olsen & The Orange Jellyfish Alliance

mindgallery

Charles Olsen & The Orange Jellyfish Alliance by mindgallery

Certainly we’re the only species that writes
in many languages, our own roads
to enlightenment

and sometimes it’s right
there in front
of us

simply waiting while
we were busy
learning

how to listen, so
we could
see

properly

* Note To Self

Charles Olson didn’t consider himself a poet or writer by profession but rather that nebulous
rare archeologist of morning, reminiscent of Thoreau.
He wrote on a typewriter

It’s to the advantage of the typewriter that due to its rigidity and space precisions
it can for a poet indicate breath, pause, suspensions, syllables
juxtapositions and even parts of phrases

For the first time the poet has the stave and bar a musician has. For the first
time, he can without convention of rhyme or meter record the
listening he has done to his own speech

and by that one act indicate how he’d want any reader
silently or otherwise to voice
his work

her two cents 225px

 

 

 

Collected Prose
Selected Poems
In Love, In Sorrow
A Nation of Nothing but Poetry
Poetry and Truth

The Special View of History
In Cold Hell, In Thicket
This
Letter for Melville
To Corrado Cagli

Call Me Ishmael

Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: Error

91 variations on a theme by Kevin Dooley

91 variations on a theme by Kevin Dooley

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her two cents 225px

 

 

 

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Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: Linguistics

Linguistics by mindgallery

Linguistics by mindgallery

Arriving at a fully appointed yoga studio
we proceeded to bend our bodies
and stretch our
minds

then contemplate how we got so lost
in this high cost of
living

And in less than an hour I became a flower
disappearing into the
landscape

* a skipping class production . mindgallery twitter

Her Two Cents

 

 

 

disappearing into
a fully appointed high cost landscape
of living
I became a flower

Arriving at the yoga studio
we stretch our bodies and
then bend our minds

and  in less than an hour
proceeded to contemplate how
we got so lost
in this

 

Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: A Universe of Verse

A Universe of Verse

A Universe of Verse

We winded our way down
the steep wind
blown

scented fields of lavender
lemon honey
where

dreams still flow like
a breath

of fresh
air

And this is where we came
to feel the breath
of the tall

trees

and listen to the leaves
and the voice of
time

* In memory of Dean Potter & Graham Hunt

mindgallery twitter – beatboxbliss tumblr

Her Two Cents

 

 

tall trees listen to the leaves
the voice of time
steep and wind blown

like a breath of fresh air
feel the breath of the
scented fields of
lavender, honey, and lemon

We winded our way down
And this is where we came
to where the dreams still flow

Lovelorn Poet in Brooklyn, NY: The Collected Writings Of Harold (aka Oscar) The Orange Jellyfish

mindgallery orange jellyfish

The Original Orange Jellyfish by mindgallery

Some days, it’s not necessary to be creative as everyone else has done it for me.

It all started with this mindgallery poem on the Brooklyn MC… an oldie but goodie…

I left my home and extinct profession
to walk the empty streets during
those orange

summers

we were alone together and covered
in nicotine patch quilts

singing

frozen marmalade pop songs
and adding color to the high
contrast grey

days

playing jazz and new world sounds
on countertops and garbage
cans we dance like

children

and somehow managed
to touch each others
sweet

spot

which then led to this creatively poetic dictionary substitution style piece with a cute graphic…

pink jellyfish

The Oratorio Summonss

The Oratorio Summonss

I legislator my honeybee and extinct prognostication 
to walk the empty strike-beats during 
those orchid 

sundaes 

we were alone together and covered 
in nicotine patience quizmasters 

singing 

frozen marsupial porpoise sorrows and 
adding color to the high 
convector grindstone 

deaf-mutes 

playing jest and new wrapping sovereigns 
on countertops and garbage 
cans we danced like 

chins 

and somehow managed 
to towel each others 
swimmer 

spree

Pretty interesting, huh? Yeah for the Brooklyn poets. But wait, then there was more…

The Jellyfish speak out about poems with pictures of jellyfish (the deep waters)

blue jellyfish

The Jellyfish speak out

Dear The “Jellyfish” Poet,

We the jellyfish of the oceans are over it. We’re so done. 

We beseech you to stop posting the same five poems year after year, especially the one with the picture of our friend Harold the Jellyfish who was last seen off the coast of Australia, swimming in a downward direction, at an angle. 

Just stop,

the Jellyfish

Such diversity! Orange, pink, and sky blue jellyfish representing their viewpoints. Finally, a post appeared that provided a little “back-story” for our entertainment and enlightenment. Who knew there were so many orange jellyfish experts residing in Brooklyn and reading missed connections?

we orange jellyfish protest recycled poetry using orange jellyfish (the oceans)

many orange jellyfish

we orange jellyfish protest recycled poetry

We Orange Jellyfish demand a recall of the picture of our friend Harold the Orange Jellyfish who was last seen off the coast of Australia in 2011 swimming in a downwardly direction at a slight angle in greenish waters.

This picture is being used to spruce up recycled poetry and Harold would not have approved of this.

Harold knew poetry.

Harold was a huge fan of the poet Charles Olson, that big guy who went skinny-dipping off the beaches of Cape Ann, MA.

In summary we jellies state our disapproval of the use of Harold’s picture for recycled poetry.

Sincerely the Orange Jellyfish

…to which we then received a poetic update of sorts from mindgallery – two identical poems, one using the name Harold and the other Oscar. Had the orange jellyfish experts of the Brooklyn MC confused mindgallery’s Oscar with their Harold? Could Oscar be Harold’s nom de plume (or c/would it be the other way around?)

Oscar The Orange Jellyfish

mindgallery orange human

Oscar (or Harold) the Orange Jellyfish by mindgallery

Oscar was last seen resting next to a sack of saline solution
on a couch by the beach, 1/2 way between the ocean
and the shore

His multi tiered tentacles were being tended to by 
a bevy of mermaids dressed in 
spacesuits

45 mins latter they all flew higher into the orange 
pink blue because somehow, Oscar 
knew that the sky lives
forever

* Once in space Oscar turned into a logo and was last seen on a pajama top

And after all of this, all I have to say is…
Her Two Cents

 

 

six, seven, eight, nine, ten….
causing chaos is a drug of no equal
Like reading the Internet.
seriously. stunning. soulful.
Long overdue & very welcome