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Tag Archives: Language
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How often in March Counting the lengthening thaws Between ice and snow Do you listen for wild geese Straining against the moon’s weight?
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie Poetry, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Tanka, The Moon, The Sky, Time, Tropes, Wild Geese, Wild Geese in Spring
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, micropoetry, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, spring, tanka, the moon, the sky, time, tropes, wild geese, wild geese in spring
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February Haiku
Snow piled to the eaves— now who complains we don’t live amidst abundance?
Posted in Aphorephemera, Haiku, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Winter
Tagged aphorephemera, haiku, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, winter
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Face the Table and Bend a Little Bit (a prostate exam villanelle)
The moving finger probes up where we shit. Listen: the doctor stretches, snaps his glove. Face the table and bend a little bit. Age can make all of our asses forfeit Their health to cancer’s greed. So we’ll speak of … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Atheism, Biology, Cliches, Death, Epistemology, Gender, John MacKenzie, Language, Medicine, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Prostate exam, Science, Social Commentary, Tropes, Villanelle
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, biology, clichés, death, epistemology, gender, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, medicine, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, prostate exam, science, social commentary, tropes, villanelle
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Why
Because this and that sperm and egg happened to be reasonably compatible, and the gestation period passed without major complications, and our conditions at birth allowed each of us to continue breathing. Because of random mishaps avoided or not through … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Consciousness, Creativity, Epistemology, Evolution, John MacKenzie, Language, Memory, Neuroscience, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetics, Poetry, Process, Science, The Brain, Writing
Tagged art is lies, consciousness, Creativity, epistemology, evolution, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, memory, neuroscience, new poems, poem tweets, poetics, poetry, process, science, the brain, writing
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Behind the Dance of Moon
Maybe tonight you will hear how the stars whisper behind the dance of moon tangling seaweed
Posted in Astrophysics, Cinquain, Cosmology, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Science, Summer, The Moon, Tide, Time
Tagged astrophysics, cinquain, cosmology, gravity, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, micropoetry, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, science, Summer, the moon, tide, time
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Another Night Done
Weaving home through crowds— another night done in this bagsticker July below clouds like torn, piss-stained sheets under the turnt up moon
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, Tanka, The Moon, The Sky
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, Summer, tanka, the moon, the sky
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Another Year in the Minors
April Between pitches, the left fielder counts the green threading slow through last year’s yellow grass May Behind him the lilacs shiver at his passage, scent each throw back to the infield with desire June Scuffing his toes at the … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Baseball, Cosmology, Gravity, John MacKenzie, Language, Lilacs, Mathematics, Memory, Minor league baseball, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Sabermetrics, Space, Spring, Summer, The Sky
Tagged art is lies, Autumn, baseball, cosmology, gravity, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, lily pond, mathematics, memory, minor league baseball, new poems, physics, poem tweets, poetry, sabermetrics, space, spring, Summer, the sky
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The Gentle Crocus Hones Green Blades of Rain (a villanelle rebuttal of Thomas)
Niel Gow’s ‘Lament for the Death of his Second Wife’ The Gentle Crocus Hones Green Blades of Rain The gentle crocus hones green blades of rain And whittles gaps in notes the small birds sing; Out of silence we build … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Dylan Thomas, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, The Sky, Villanelle, Wild Geese
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, Dylan Thomas, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, spring, the sky, villanelle, wild geese in spring
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In November’s Dark
In November’s dark the pitch of the wind shudders up and down octaves, wails diminished minor chords through the many fretted trees
Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, Music, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Tanka, The Wind
Tagged art is lies, Autumn, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, micropoetry, music, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, tanka, the wind
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Primrose Path, a video reading (poems from old notebooks, July 2012)
The Oxford dictionary says “Phrases primrose path the pursuit of pleasure, especially when it is seen to bring disastrous consequences: blithely unaware of his doom, he continued down his primrose path [with allusion to Shakespeare’s Hamlet i. iii. 50]” Primrose … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Death, Epistemology, Hillsborough River, John MacKenzie, Language, Mathematics, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetry, Quatrains, Social Commentary, Video poetry
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, death, epistemology, Hillsborough River, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, mathematics, poem tweets, poems from old notebooks, poetry, quatrains, social commentary, video poetry
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November Evening Quatrains
Fever Ray—Keep the Streets Empty For Me November Evening Quatrains Here’s what happens. The planet spins into night. The wind blows leaves round in a circle under the stars’ ageing light. Over the harbour, the darkness hiding its white … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Autumn, Charlottetown, Cosmology, Fever Ray, Gulls, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Quatrains, Space, The Earth, The Moon, The Sea, Time, Winter
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, Autumn, Charlottetown, cosmology, Fever Ray, gulls, harbour, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, quatrains, space, the earth, the moon, the sea, time, winter
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Sonnet with Wild Goose (Poached)
Boil up the potatoes, whip them good with butter, cream, and red onions to scoop in peaked mounds and bake golden. Lift down the hanging garlic and chop it fine with salt and crushed pepper to rub into wild goose … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Food, John MacKenzie, Language, Memory, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Sonnet, Wild Geese
Tagged art is lies, Autumn, Food, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, memory, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, sonnet, wild geese
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The Late October Moon Weaves
More than half-cut now the late October moon weaves between clouds all night stumbling and falling but still holding the last of its shine
Posted in Art is lies, Charlottetown, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Tanka, The Moon
Tagged art is lies, Charlottetown, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, micropoetry, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, tanka, the moon
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Let’s Forget the Sea
Let’s forget the sea and all its salt that gathers on, sharpens our tongues, forget how it swells, urgent in the night, a wet, rhythmic push of water on rocks, forget the sea at its evening low ebb withdrawn beyond … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Gulls, John MacKenzie, Language, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Sonnet, The Earth, The Sea, The Wind
Tagged art is lies, Autumn, gulls, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, sonnet, the earth, the sea, the wind
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d’Etre, Et Cetera (against a sea of troubles)
High tide has just turned, but already gulls descend— squall over prime spots on mudflats to be
Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, Gulls, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, The Sea
Tagged art is lies, art is theft, cinquain, gulls, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, micropoetry, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, the sea
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Built of Bone (poems from old notebooks, November 2002)
Midnight takes a turn. Moonlight so white it might be Built of bone. Nothing moves But dreams also (of screaming). Consider: He is considering The house and its place in time, Its duration in space, its editions And additions. He … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Consciousness, John MacKenzie, Language, Mathematics, Memory, Neuroscience, Physics, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Poetry, Space, The Brain, The Moon, Time
Tagged art is lies, Autumn, consciousness, John MacKenzie, Language, mathematics, memory, neuroscience, physics, poem tweets, poems from old notebooks, poetry, space, the brain, the moon, time
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Everyday Math
The ring-billed gulls descending over the low tide slant of shingle toward dark mudflats are a litter of dirty-white scrap paper scrawled with derivatives measuring the changes of functions in differential equations. Across the harbour the calculus continues; considers a … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Astrophysics, Biology, Cemetery, Charlottetown, Chemistry, Consciousness, Creativity, Death, Epistemology, Evolution, Gulls, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Language, Mathematics, Memory, Neuroscience, New poems, Physics, Poem tweets, Poetry, Prose poem, Science, The Brain, Time, West River
Tagged art is lies, astrophysics, biology, cemetery, Charlottetown, chemistry, consciousness, Creativity, death, epistemology, evolution, gulls, harbour, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, mathematics, memory, neuroscience, new poems, physics, poem tweets, poetry, prose poem, science, the brain, time, West River
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Gritty Bar Poem (poems from old notebooks, October 16, 2004)
The kids is starved, the wife’s knocked up, an I just barfed the last rum up. Look, the tide’s out, the quahogs thin, so shut yer mout an git to diggin. Oh fill yer boots, ya useless gits— we’re outta … Continue reading
Posted in Art is lies, Charlottetown, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Language, Poem tweets, Poems from old notebooks, Social Commentary, The Sea
Tagged art is lies, Charlottetown, harbour, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, poem tweets, poems from old notebooks, social commentary, the sea
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Late October Night Frost
White glint of stars on an iron-black sky I’ve stuck my tongue to—again
Posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Haiku, John MacKenzie, Language, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Space, The Sky
Tagged art is lies, Autumn, haiku, John MacKenzie, John MacKenzie poetry, Language, micropoetry, new poems, poem tweets, poetry, space, the sky
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Mumbling Jack 
The Writing on the Wall
Looking for a virgin, Who you gonna call? What god’s got the virginest Virgins of all? You can find his number On the bathroom wall— The pimpest pimp in Pimptown— For a good time, call Allah.