Where is it?

When is it?

 

— It’s all NOW.

Now and in us:

 

in our bodies and heads

in our eyes-minds-cells-hearts

in our worlds and times

in our past and future

 

HERE and NOW.

 

 

SELF-PORTRAIT AS A METHOD OF BLUES

 

As in the primal naming of the names

cadences of eternity have warmed

they stride onto the pathway of their times

oblivious to vanished poets gone before

 

not wavering not making needless fusses

each life pursues its own self-portrait’s painting

although they have connections their own bridges

their own special communication methods — astrolabing

 

through antennaed cellular unity in universal waves

through their signals signs and passwords of a prudent will

which passed thousand-year warfare’s navigation

which hasn’t fled captivity and pain’s travails

 

at the bottom and the summit of genetic spoke dimensions

the circles of elusive spirals came into alignment

and in countless spots and faces customarily partitioned

our self — self-portrait — recognized, surprised us.

 

Thus there arises neverending blues-ness

in verse and formula and prose of dancing muses…

 

— T. Apraksina