Found Art Tuesday: Jump

I've been struggling with Found Art Tuesday topics for the past 2 or 3 weeks. My apologies, but I keep getting distracted by this pesky vision quest of mine. Anyway, I thought the "jump" theme would allow me the opportunity to expound poetically on the notion of a Leap of Faith. But, as luck would have it, I'll be damned if I can find anything to rhyme with faith.
So here's what I came up with instead...

Conditions are cluttered by clouds of confusion
And pinheads proceed in prolific profusion
       So follow the masses
       Who fall on their asses
Come join the convention and jump to conclusions

James Joyce's Ulysses: the complete series

James Joyce’s ULYSSES, in 36 easily digestible Limericks
By The Granola Poet

“Ulysses”
There once was an artist called Stephen
With Homer he tried to get even
       So Bloom and he walk
       Around Dublin and talk
About all the things they believe in

Telemachus (episode 1)
The story begins in a tower
Where 8 o'clock is the hour
       Young Buck and Sir Haines
       Make light of his pains
But wait till he meets Mr. Flower

Telemachus #2
It starts with a portion of prose
From "Portrait" our character rose
       A maker of mazes
       His thoughts take us places
Like the Liffey his monologue flows

Telemachus #3 (Homeric)
There once was a young Telemachus
Whose father left him in a fracas
       To the war he objected
       But his name was selected
For an odyssey certain to shock us

Nestor (episode 2)
At 10 o’clock school is in session
It starts with a history lesson
       To the past Stephen reaches
       And languidly teaches
For his own past he must make confession

Nestor #2
At school young Stephen is teaching
And into the past he is reaching
       By his’try they’re bound
       To a king and his crown
And a Pope who’s incessantly preaching

Proteus (episode 3)
Introducing the Protean mind
Streaming with thoughts of all kind
       The king changes shapes
       As our hero escapes
On a quest for a woman who’s kind





Calypso (episode 4)
Calypso is leading a life of seduction
As Leopold seldom attempts reproduction
       Their home goes to Blazes
       While Bloom simply gazes
At maidens who gaily portend his destruction

Lotus Eaters #1 (episode 5)
In the bathtub he dwells on a lotus
A billet-doux from the pocket he showed us
       Her language so flirty
       Makes Flower feel dirty
Her roses he tries not to notice

Lotus Eaters #2
Naughty Miss Martha she beckoned
For Henry was lonely she reckoned
       But when she comes calling
       He can’t help from falling
Some thirty-two Bloom feet per second

Hades #1 (episode 6)
All Dublin has come out to pay their respects
A rite to which Leopold lightly objects
       In metempsychosis
       One life cycle closes
On dad’s misadventure L. Bloom he reflects

Hades #2
The gravediggers gather in lightsome lament
Poor Dignam on Guinness his last schilling spent
       But there’s no disgrace
       To die drunk on his face
While old mister Bloom has no chance to repent

Hades #3
In Hades his thoughts grew nightmarish
On the losses of loved ones we cherish
       Of Rudy’s young face
       And father’s disgrace
Each day umpteen thousand more perish

Aeolus (episode 7)
There’s a paper where men shoot the breeze
Blowing steam over Mad Cow’s Disease
       Home Rule is one topic
       On which they’re myopic
For our heroes have both lost their key(e)s

Lestrygonians (episode 8)
There was an old Hebrew in search of a bite
In the lunchroom he witnessed a sickening sight
       With the animals feeding
       He felt like excreting
But a sandwich he managed to eat with delight

Scylla & Charybdis (episode 9)
Somehow Stephen’s reasons seem so circumstantial
Prince Hamlet distracts him from problems financial
       In a sharp dialectic
       And a voice apoplectic
He maintains that the actors are all consubstantial

Scylla & Charybdis #2
There once was a passage so dangerously narrow
‘Tween white rocks of dogma and whirlwinds of Tarot
       The balance required
       Left Mulligan tired
But Stephen flew on with the grace of a sparrow

Wandering Rocks (episode 10)
Inverts and adverts and throwaway sheets
The minions meander through mazes and streets
       A priest on parade
       A state cavalcade
The double-edged spoon from which Ireland eats

Sirens (episode 11)
On a sea of sweet voices our mongrel is cast
To resist their temptation he’s tied to the mast
       By bronze and by gold
       Some stout pints are pulled
And later, like gas, a loose trollop is passed

Sirens #2
A hero hears voices out over the oceans
While sirens fill glasses with succulent potions
       His eardrum it pounds
       With sonorous sounds
And somewhere a street girl seductively motions

Cyclops (episode 12)
I once knew a man who was prone to eruption
Lashing about at the eye of destruction
       Exalting his land
       Libation in hand
Then blinded by no-man with no introduction

Nausicaa (episode 13)
O’er the sea sinks the sun with contrition
To be watching alone is the human condition
       Just a rock on the sand
       Honeymoon in the hand
Sewing seeds with no chance of fruition

Oxen of the Sun #1 (episode 14)
There once was an infant alone in the womb
As herds of debauchers all crowded the room
       By fluids enveloped
       Their bodies developed
And alone once again they head straight for the tomb

Oxen of the Sun #2
There was a commotion in yon House of Horne
By three days of labor a mother was torn
       While gentlemen waiting
       Delivered words so degrading
The god-possibled soul of a new boy was born

Circe #1 (episode 15)
A vision at midnight by magic affected
But Bloom’s black potato is bound to correct it
       Like a morsel of moly
       To reverse the unholy
The remedy found where you least would expect it

Circe #3
Our pig-headed heroes wind up at Miss Bello’s
One of the district’s most fetching bordellos
       Where spirits might render
       Delusions of splendor
Finally conjoining these two wayward fellows

Circe #4
Stubbornly Stephen’s extending his nerve
“Non Serviam” he will duly observe
       While Bloom takes a bow
       Like a suckling sow
The artist announces that he will not serve

Circe #5 (in iambic meter)
From darkness mother steps in sight
Doomed for term to walk the night
       Behold her head
       All beastly dead
Will Stephen make what’s rotten right?

Eumaeus #1 (episode 16)
In the wee early hours their congress occurs
Perfectly sober Bloom sorely infers
       That Stephen’s been euchered
       Forsaken and suckered
And therefore he (Bloom) at this treason demurs

Eumaeus #2
A wayfaring vessel returns to drop anchor
Pretenders and thieves are regarded with rancor
       At home there’s a rift
       After ages adrift
A respectable sailor would rightfully spank her

Eumaeus #3
A salesman returns where he one-time resided
Where upon he discovers his house is divided
       An adventure through town
       Brought him all the way round
Till father and son are at long last united

Ithaca #1 (episode 17)
How shall this hero extinguish his passion?
With questions all posed in fastidious fashion.
       Then where does he head?
       But straight for the bed
Right back to the womb and the voice of compassion.

Ithaca #2
What is the point of this painful narration?
To slaughter the suitors in examination.
       And what about miss Marion?
       Bloom answers her clarion
Bracing himself for a keen remonstration.

Penelope #1 (episode 18)
By 2 in the morning room seven’s a mess
Molly has just seen poor Poldy undress
       By bawdy suggestion
       She answers the question
Announcing resoundingly certainly Yes

Penelope #2
They’re fleshing it out at their Eccles address
Erupting with feelings she needs to express
       She wonders half sleeping
       Is Poldy worth keeping?
And answers in estrous emphatically Yes


“Finnegans Wake”
James Joyce was an exile in France
Where the Earwicks held him in a trance
       Lost in his thoughts
       With a stream of bon mots
But none of it makes any sense

A reaction to current events

"Scooter Libby (and the Power of Clemency)"
There's a tacit political precedent
Under oath you had better be reticent
       For to perjure's a crime
       Which means doing time
Unless you're protecting the President

Reflections on the middle way

"Namaste"
Take in thy hand your sceptre and rod
Each of us here is perfectly flawed
       Respect the divine
       In your soul and mine
For none but a god can worship a god

"Ariadne's Thread"
The virtuous path may be shrouded in haze
The ego misleads you in so many ways
       But the simplest thing
       Like a bundle of string
Is all the you need to escape from the maze

"Eden"
Back in the garden, before man took a bite
Before any knowledge of wrong or of right
       All branching from one
       We basked in the sun
But now we're condemned to the darkness of night

"Good and Evil"
All things on earth must receive affirmation
Evil and good are beyond separation
       Let them all run their course
       For we share the same source
Who died and said you could question Creation?

Found Art Tuesday: Present

The past and the future are one and the same
To believe otherwise is a short-sighted game
       Outside of uncertainty
       Right now is eternity
The light of a pure and perpetual flame

The case of Joseph Frederick

You've probably heard all about this case by now. Of course, anything having to do with "bong hits" that makes it all the way to the Supreme Court is bound to make some headlines. And so that the breath of history does not exhale too quickly, I've written this limerick to help us retain it in our collective short-term memory banks.
(Also, stay tuned for my series on the Seven Deadly Sins, coming soon.)

Joe Frederick's a student who does as he pleases
He one time put forth an unorthodox thesis
       The principal frowned
       But Joe held his ground
His 14-foot banner read "Bong Hits 4 Jesus"

Transcendence

or, How God grew tired of me and my flippancy

"Also Sprach the Lord"
Last night I saw God and He spoke to me thus:
"Why must you people all make such a fuss?
       You pray for your nation,
       But I am Creation!"
So therefore we're equal, and He's just like us

"In the Belly of the Whale"
A metaphor helps with the truth to unveil
See for yourself what's inside of a whale
       A dark hollow place
       With some hard facts to face
Without inner wisdom you're certain to fail

"Look and See"
It's no easy order obtaining the truth
Dredging through Daniel, Elijah and Ruth
       If you see it inside
       They'll charge you with pride
Or question their creed and they call you uncouth

Found Art Tuesday

Happy Father's Day
Actually, everyday is father's day in this house. But alas, I'm not the father, only the son, on a perpetual quest for his spiritual father. My biological father lives here, where we're able to provide for his basic needs.

Under the general heading of administative malarky, please allow to mention that my computer has been encountering severe technical hurdles this month. You should, therefore, a) forgive me for not updating the blog and the links as much or as often as I would like, and b) express your sincere gratitude for my even updating it at all. Thank you, and please pardon the interruption. We now return to our regular programming.

"Father"
I once had a teacher, role model and guide
The world I'd ask, and he'd duly provide
       Taking my hand
       So I might understand
That now is my chance to be there at his side

Survival of the wettest

Thanks for all your support everyone, but after withdrawing into my shell in typical Cancerian fashion, I've now returned to the land of the living. And truth be told, I probably wasn't quite as bad as I made it out to sound. And, in fact, it wasn't even really a migraine, just a tedious headache that lasted about a week and was accompanied by several sticky nights of profuse perspiration. Whatever it was, I have no idea, but I'm over it now, so let's all crack open a box of hemp granola and drench it with calcium fortified rice non-dairy beverage. Woo-hoo!

While I was in my cave, I did have a chance to consider our place in the universe. And wouldn't you know it, I made no major breakthroughs, just some Limericks. If Noah ever collected any literary specimens, I hope this pair of Limericks would be invited to board his ark, hand-in-hand.

"The Jurassic Age"
This orb was long ruled by reptillian giants
Who preyed on the weak with audacious defiance
       And nearly forever
       Though not very clever
A lesson therein from the pages of science

"The Human Scourge"
Mankind is in need of a better direction
Consuming and killing with savage perfection
       Where lies the answer
       To this bipedal cancer?
What can be done to contain the infection?

Found Art Tuesday

This week's theme is light. I spent the day searching for a glimmer of hope at the bottom of a dark pit. Hopefully your day has been a whole lot better than mine.

"Light"
The sky knows no bounds to the ashy-crowned lark
The grass never browns when you walk through the park
       But their joy has no place
       Until sorrow they taste
You can't see the light till you stand in the dark

"Migraine Melancholia"
The morsels of time drag out longer and longer
With my corpulent head throbbing stronger and stronger
       My mind in a flurry
       My vision all blurry
What used to be right's looking wronger and wronger

Wake up and live some more

"Free Will"
There once was a question of fate
Do we choose it, or simply just wait?
            It's more than a ride
            No, you must decide
Fetch your fortune before it's too late

"Existential Bliss"
We live in a world so absurd
There's no meaning — or hadn't you heard?
            But it's cause to rejoice
            For your life is your choice
There's no reason to follow the herd

Wake Up and Live

This is a call to action for the townfolk of Slo County. But it's more than just a call to action, it's a Limerick.
Actually it's less than a call to action, it's a Limerick. Just a Limerick. Just a friendly, harmless, not-particularly-philosophical Limerick, never intending to do anyone any harm.
Wouldn't want to cause any trouble in Paradise, after all.

"Rebel!"
There once was a town so complacent
With sewers and strip malls adjacent
       All shallow and smiling
       So rarely reviling
Their souls remained sheltered and nascent

Praise the Lard!

"The Bored Player"
Oh bother, these hands uneven,
how many seem the same?
My Sunday duds, my king of clubs,
inert as a pair of sevens.
Give it away and pay me bread.
And forget about bets, as we forget our senses.
Feed us hot wings and libation,
when the liver is in peril,
four steins of Kings Cobra, in an hour,
in a story, for empty endeavors.
      --Amen

For New Zealand

This one goes out to Shauna at Found Art New Zealand. I felt her piece this week was particularly inspired. . . and inspiring!
(Go ahead and take a look so you'll know what I'm talking about: http://foundartnz.blogspot.com/)

There was once an hommage to Magritte
But please don't you dare take a hit
       The illusion is broken
       This art ain't for smokin'
Voila, ceci n'est pas bullshit

Found Art Tuesday: Close

Sometimes it all seems so close...
... and sometimes its feels like light years away.

"Close to the Void"
Screaming into the void
Awaiting the echo's return
Reaching for meaningful teachings
A morsel of truth I could learn

A master I look forward to meeting
To wake me from dreams and ghosts
Life is too short, opportunity fleeting
Open wide, for the answer is close

Muddled thoughts for a holiday weekend

"Virtue"
It's not at all easy to act out of principle
They laugh in your face and they call you an imbicile
            Label you crazy
            Habitually lazy
They know not the ways of a heart that's invincible

"Reconciliation"
There once was a cause for confession
The holiest form of expression
            Despite your intention
            You'll find no redemption
Until the first act of transgression

Found Art Tuesday: Moon

"Smiling Phases"
Vernal Moon shining bright
Casting shadows in the night
Goddess mother's evening glow
See your children; watch them grow
Newborn crescent's day is done
Setting just behind the Sun
In seven days the orb has grown
Stays out half the night alone
The former phantom fills its whole
Soon good fortune smiles in full
From dusk to dawn she rules the sky
And keeps our restless spirits high
Rising nightly slightly later
Reeling back to her creator
When the slender slice descends
At last the sidereal cycle ends
And in the distant final breath
A new moon born from last month's death

For Lady LaRocco

This goes out to Kathy LaRocco, whose work we all admire and whose support we all appreciate. (http://artful-musings-of-kathyl.blogspot.com/)

"The Artful Musings of Kathy L."
There's an amusing midwestern marauder
Collecting collages of water
       Worked out in layers
       To send them like prayers
Her masterpiece must be her daughter

Creative Everyday

This one's for Leah a.k.a. Creative Everyday — a Cancerian like myself, whose beautiful works of collage and encaustic are inspired by Rob Brezsny and Tom Robbins, among others.

"Creative Everyday"
There's a Cancer in deep meditation
Her stars are the cause of creation
       Balancing spaces
       In dark waxy places
Awash with a moon-lit sensation

Found Art Tuesday

"Lost"
There's a peacenik whose poetry shined
But was lost in a world so unkind
       Confused by the fighting
       He kept right on writing
Till one day he just lost his mind

I hope whoever buys the next box of GrapeNuts has a streak of compassion and a sense of humor!