On Iteration & Repetition
On Iteration & Repetition
Thanks thanks thanks for stopping by
& inflating me for a few seconds.
Yes yes to all you say & thanks for
posting your poems as a sidekick.
You see I see we see the problem.
This great entity created repetition
to make us want to be like it
experiencing everything first-hand.
(Actually, iteration is a dead-end
and reincarnation is a dumb eternity)
Give me a break! That infamous He
could’ve done better
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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A banter in my backyard
I spoke to the butterfly telling her
I saw a lizard in the middle
of April at the edge of my garden
and how it was jarred out of its
shaded lethargy by the sprinkle
issuing from my watering hose and
not the traditional mensal showers.
The butterfly flitted her wings at me
which I interpreted as meaning
don’t pull my arms, “They were
April showers weren’t they? ”
but when I looked again at the lizard
now basking on the sun-warmed rock
the butterfly was gone and I knew
what I heard was the air whispering.
poem by Alex Nodopaka (2010)
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Less than precious Stones
Less than precious Stones
I'm so glad you asked
a brilliant question for which
I have a dull answer.
Brilliance has to do
with shine and
dullness with personality.
Like in dimwitted.
A brilliant can be dulled
which makes it less brilliant.
Yet it doesn’t make it
dimwitted. Like some people
are smart but not intelligent
while others are intelligent
but not smart at all. Like how
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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A mathematical conjecture
A mathematical conjecture
or An ode to Vladimir Tonchev
Is when quasi-symmetric designs
Reach two stage disjunctive testing
Upon subtracting the discrete numbers.
They form systems of sets
And cyclotomy of self orthogonal
Codal length.
Now, I know this means little
For those with a cerebral weakness
For unevenly distributed sets of digits
However, were you faintly acquainted
With algorithms solving for optimal
Difference systems of sets
and line spreads you’d be avoiding
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Corn On The Cob
I come from the land of locusts.
Periodically, on rare occasions,
back when there was no concern
over climate changes
and the Sirocco blew over Casablanca
the skies turned somberly gloomy.
The feast after their landing was pan-fried.
Locusts with cumin spices. Cruncheeeeee!
In fact there is compensation
Nature has a way to substitute a simile
For an allegory or the real thing.
We just have to learn to swallow it.
OK, you wait for an intelligent comment
& the one thing I remark
about the locust aftermath is that there's
no corn in sight any longer.
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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The Physique of Intimate Poetry
I decided to read poetry
written only by
imagined beautiful people.
In my psyche
their words
structured into poised stanzas
become refined paragraphs
that perch elegantly
on slender ankles
supporting the upper half
of their bovine torso.
This pastoral vision
of grass
metamorphosing
into milk suckled from a teat
is so convincingly surreal
that it is not
may not be a tit.
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Deconstruction of transcendence
The concentration
on the idyll to nature
as a wide range of loneliness
seems to nature
as disposition is to scenery and
the discovery of post modernism
thus continuing the individual and
the romantic feeling
of contemporary visual representations.
Loneliness is coupled
with a number of symbolic qualities.
Now that emotions and personal feelings
are linked with a Romantic revaluation of
the representation of Postmodernism
and the discovery it is conjuring,
the pictures form issues
range from the Romantic feeling
to Postmodernism and the discovery of
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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I don’t know if God plays ball
I don’t know if God plays ball
soccer or foosball or bacci ball.
Well, I’m a Frenchman and
boules is the name of my game.
Being on the ball is like playing
with Gigi little girls. When God
created Eve I wonder did He
have in mind dirty old men
and did He mean putting man
behind the eight ball
and did He know that eons later
round the corner of the square ball
someone hooks up with
a hooded guy who sells 3.5 grams
of meth and coke and damn,
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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The Physique of an Intimate Painting
I decided to do canvases
painted only by
imagined beautiful people.
In my awareness
their brush strokes would structure
into poised angular shapes
and become refined parallelograms
elegantly perched on slender easels
firmly planted in the grass
supporting the upper half
of their bovine torsos.
This pastoral vision
of domesticated beasts in paddocks
metamorphosing grass into milk
suckled from teats
will be so convincingly surreal
that one will have to be constantly reminded
they are not teats
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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I will bring you out of the land of bondage
I will bring you out of the land of bondage
Arms subjugated she prays:
Chag Ha-Matzot
Chag Ha-Pesach
to which the third eye replies,
'I will bring you out of the land of bondage'
the tenth plague will not touch you
and when the angel of death descends
to slay the Egyptians’ first-born
thou shall be passed over.
Then thou shall sit at each Seder
and retell the Exodus saga
while partaking in a festive meal.
Then thou shall recite prayers of thanks,
welcome Elijah the prophet
and sing Passover songs.
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poem by Alex Nodopaka
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