The Esoteric Mind Of The Abstract Poet Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

Kaleidoscopic imagists
pining to find their place,
steady as the marionette
dangling over a child -
recklessly, drunkingly,
grade school tom-foolishly,
metaphorically breathing,
testing, tapping, teasing by-
loudly silent underlays
so subtlely...quite deftly
as Poets do so well;
collectively in variety,
like potpourris diversity
synthesizing principles
of penned locution.

And the very best take Wisdom,
ensconce in Oxford's bible
of parlance, linguisticals,
and, yes, ole' English dreck, tho-
personally i'd rather be accused
of subtle shibboleth,
or the strange of esoterica,
mystery buried deep as Death,
like the ghastly Order of Masons,
let's stop and talk on that!


[As the Abstract Poet survives
by veering away from storyline,
just long enough to challenge
the Reader's poetic sanity]...


For the rituals that they practiced
so 'f r e e l y', covertly
bizarre in darkest legend,
as by death they pledged in blood
to protect their culted covenants
with compass, stone and gun,
and frightening the bejesus
out of Quakers, cats and women;
threaded codes do tell tales
with symbols, roman numerals
not so different then E.A. Poe's -
cryptic underlying themes
diagonally strange acrostics
that were never what it seamed;
interpretations,
indignations,
surrealistic Dali-ations,
complexed jargon penned just so -
it was as if he had his own covenant
of dark, linguistic literature,
pages thick with richness cold -
as ice through hardened veins;
blood that poured in icey blue
with every stroke of feathered quill,
of his ever great Third-Eye.

And that's the Abstract Poet,
surrealistic, free and versed
just like Poe...,
my silent muse,
the Earl of Abstract Poetry,
and it's all so damn beautiful...to me.

__________ F j R _________






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Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR